Chapter 13: Surname Huang, Given Name Nest, Nickname Sky-high Rolling around and acting cute to beg for favorites—dear readers, please spare a click.

These four men were none other than the Four Heavenly Kings, renowned throughout Xijing City. They ruled the eastern, southern, western, and northern districts, their reputations awe-inspiring. On ordinary days, they were untouchable figures, arrogant and domineering. Yet here, every one of them behaved as meekly as kittens.

Huang Chao glanced at the four with cold indifference, caressing the beauty in his arms as he spoke. “I hear there was a violent clash among you last night. Is that true?”

At these words, two of them visibly shuddered. One hurriedly replied, “Boss Huang, there was just a minor misunderstanding—no such thing as a violent clash.”

Huang Chao looked at the speaker—it was King Wen, one of the Four Heavenly Kings. The once-feared King Wen felt as though a frigid wind had sliced through him under Huang Chao's gaze, his entire body chilled, legs trembling uncontrollably.

Another quickly echoed, “Yes, Boss Huang. It was only a minor dispute among our subordinates. A small scuffle, nothing serious.”

This was King Guang, another of the Four Heavenly Kings.

Hearing their words, Huang Chao smiled faintly, pushed the beauty aside, and slowly stepped out from behind his desk to stand before them. Only then did they see his true size—two meters tall, powerfully built, tattoos running from his neck up onto his shaven scalp. Just standing there, his presence was overwhelming.

As Huang Chao approached, the four grew even more terrified, hearts pounding.

Huang Chao stroked his bald head and let out a booming laugh. “Very well. Since you say so, I have nothing more to say.”

Before his words had faded, Huang Chao suddenly hurled a punch at King Wen and, with a sweeping kick, struck at King Guang.

Two thunderous sounds erupted in quick succession.

King Wen’s chest was instantly blasted open, leaving a gaping hole. King Guang was sent flying, his body snapped in two, collapsing limply to the floor. Neither even managed a cry before death claimed them.

The remaining two, King Zeng and King Shou, collapsed to their knees in terror, begging for mercy. “Boss Huang, spare us! We had nothing to do with it!”

Huang Chao snorted coldly. “If you two were involved, would you still be alive?”

Then he called out sharply, “Futu, drag these two out and feed them to the dogs, piece by piece.”

“Yes, sir.” At the order, a small, wiry man who had been standing unobtrusively in the corner stepped forward, grabbed the two corpses as if they were weightless, and hauled them toward the rear door.

King Zeng and King Shou dared not utter a sound as they watched. They knew this man, Futu, was Huang Chao’s personal attendant, an orphan Huang Chao had taken in ten years ago and named himself. Futu handled most matters for Huang Chao and enjoyed his absolute trust. In truth, Futu alone held power over their lives and deaths—Huang Chao didn’t even need to intervene.

This time, King Wen and King Guang had been foolish enough to clash over territory, angering the boss enough to deal with them personally. They brought this fate upon themselves.

In recent years, Huang Chao had shifted his focus outside Xijing City, relaxing his grip on the four. But King Zeng and King Shou, well aware of his methods, always remained vigilant and avoided trouble. Those two fools, on the other hand, had begun to forget who truly ruled the city, daring to start a war among themselves. They got exactly what they deserved.

Moments later, Futu returned, his hands soaked in crimson.

Huang Chao spoke again. “Have those idiots’ men nominate two replacements and report to Futu.”

“Yes, sir,” King Zeng and King Shou replied in unison.

“Now get lost. I have other matters to attend to tonight.” Huang Chao waved them off impatiently.

They hurried to speak up, “Boss Huang, if there’s anything you need done, just tell us. What business in Xijing could possibly require you to handle personally?”

Huang Chao sneered, “You two worthless fools aren’t qualified to know. Out.”

Realizing this was no ordinary affair, they dared not persist and quickly kowtowed before scrambling away.

Watching their retreat, Huang Chao shook his head and said to Futu, “Dealing with this kind of trash is enough to drive a man mad.”

Futu simply nodded, his face expressionless.

Suddenly, Huang Chao smiled. “Come with me tonight. We have business to take care of—an important figure from the Northwest Province asked me personally. I must see to it myself.”

Futu nodded, and the two left on foot, not even bothering with a car.

After about an hour, they strolled into Chaowen Alley and stopped before the Forget-Worry General Store. Through the open doors, Huang Chao looked in at Lu Ming, who was sleeping soundly, and couldn’t help but smirk. A street swindler, bold enough to dupe the Yun family and still sleep so peacefully—if he wasn’t a fool, then he was truly fearless.

Huang Chao entered the shop with hands clasped behind his back and announced, “You have guests. Get up.”

At the sound of his not-so-loud voice, Lu Ming slowly opened his eyes, glanced at Huang Chao, lit a cigarette, and asked, “What do you want with me?”

Huang Chao frowned, then said, “Someone sent me to retrieve an item and cripple your arms and legs. I expect you know which item I mean.”

Lu Ming shook his head. “Why not just kill me? Leaving me crippled is worse than death.”

“Heh. That’s what my client wants. I’m just the messenger. Will you hand it over yourself, or must I beat it out of you?” Huang Chao’s tone remained playful.

Lu Ming put on a troubled face. “I don’t have it. Nor do I plan to lose my limbs. What now?”

“Stubborn fool. Looks like you’ll be begging for a living the rest of your days.” Huang Chao’s anger flared—this petty conman actually dared to mock him.

Lu Ming glanced at him and said, “Let me give you a word of advice. Being a post-heaven martial artist isn’t that impressive. Don’t overestimate yourself.”

Huang Chao was startled.

In China, martial artists are ranked as External, Internal, Post-Heaven, Pre-Heaven, and Master. To reach these titles is to surpass the ordinary, attaining formidable strength.

External martial artists have trained their bodies to be like iron, both powerful and resilient, able to handle a dozen normal fighters with ease. Internal martial artists cultivate inner energy, their strikes carrying a force more deadly than blades or swords. Post-Heaven martial artists have unblocked all meridians, allowing inner energy to flow freely—every move is potentially lethal. Pre-Heaven martial artists combine both inner and outer mastery, achieving a rare balance of strength and flexibility; even a flying petal or falling leaf can become a weapon in their hands. Such experts are few and far between.

Masters, however, have transcended conventional martial arts, forging a unique path, their own “Way.” They possess invincible skills and are so rare that even across all of China, only a handful exist.

That Lu Ming could instantly see through Huang Chao’s cultivation made him wary. Clearly, the man before him was no ordinary person.

Still, Huang Chao had confidence in himself. Martial arts required not only diligence, but also innate talent and time. He had been the pride of his clan since childhood, combining talent with tireless practice. Though still a post-heaven martial artist, he was on the very threshold of the pre-heaven realm. Even against most pre-heaven experts, he was confident.

Lu Ming looked barely over twenty. Even if he’d been training since birth, how strong could he really be? Huang Chao had no fear.

“You brash child, you know a thing or two and already boast so shamelessly. Tonight, I’ll show you what it means to be a true post-heaven martial artist.”

With that, Huang Chao took a single long stride, his legs spanning several meters, and loomed before Lu Ming.

“Take my punch!” he roared, raising his fist high and bringing it crashing down, the force slicing through the air.

Huang Chao’s towering figure and Lu Ming’s seated position made the blow seem like Mount Tai crashing down. The violent surge of energy sent the air howling through the shop. Even an iron man would have been pulverized by such a strike.

Yet Lu Ming merely shook his head. During his mercenary days, he had already reached the pre-heaven level—otherwise, he’d have died countless times over. After consuming a dragon and cultivating the Dragon Soaring Technique, even he no longer knew the limits of his power. He was certain that even a Master would be no problem for him now, let alone a mere post-heaven fighter.

“You’re courting death.”

Seeing Huang Chao attack with full force, Lu Ming’s temper flared. He had never shown mercy to his enemies—mercy to foes was cruelty to oneself. This was his creed.

As he spat out those words, Lu Ming sprang up and, without hesitation, met Huang Chao’s descending fist head-on with a punch of his own, squarely to the chest.