Undefeated Soldier King

Yang Chen's expression remained impassive as his gaze swept over Yang Xiangming before settling on Qian Biao, who was currently being aimed at by over a dozen pistols. 

When Yang Chen looked at him, Qian Biao couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze flickering away, his face filled with shame. 

Yang Chen only wanted to see Qian Biao for himself. Then, his eyes returned to Yang Xiangming. 

"You want to kill me?" Yang Chen suddenly spoke, his tone eerily calm. 

Yang Xiangming was a ruthless man—otherwise, he wouldn't have sent assassins after Yang Chen simply because Yang Wei had been crippled. Yet, faced with Yang Chen's composure, his own heart was anything but steady. 

Qian Biao was surrounded by guns. With a single order from Yang Xiangming, those muzzles would all turn toward Yang Chen. And yet, Yang Chen acted as if he didn't even see them. 

A man like this was either supremely confident or a fool. 

Yang Xiangming was inclined to believe it was the former. 

"You crippled my grandson, condemning him to a lifetime in bed. Is it so strange that I'd want you dead?" Yang Xiangming snarled. 

Yang Chen smiled faintly. "You're nothing like what I imagined." 

"How so?" Yang Xiangming couldn't help but ask. 

"I thought someone who could elevate a minor family to the top tier of Zhou City must have some vision and capability. But now, it seems I overestimated you." 

Yang Chen's voice dripped with mockery. "If I had to sum you up in eight words: *short-sighted, ignorant, blind to the world beyond your well.*" 

"How dare you!" Yang Xiangming roared, his face twisting with fury. "Do you really think I won't kill you?" 

The moment he spoke, the dozen gun muzzles shifted from Qian Biao to Yang Chen. 

Qian Biao's expression darkened. Now that he suspected Yang Chen's true identity, how could he stand by and watch him be threatened? In a flash, he stepped in front of Yang Chen, snarling, "Who dares touch him?!" 

Yang Xiangming's eyes widened in shock. Qian Biao, who feared nothing, not even death, was now shielding Yang Chen. 

But the surprise quickly gave way to a smirk. "Qian Biao, I could never find your weakness before. But now, I have." 

"What do you mean?" Qian Biao growled. 

"If you're willing to die for him, then *he* is your weakness." 

Yang Xiangming's smile was triumphant. "Stay and serve the Yang family, and I'll spare his life." 

Qian Biao's face paled. He'd rather die than continue serving the Yangs. But now, Yang Chen was here. If anything happened to him, Qian Biao would become the greatest traitor to the Northern Frontier. 

Yang Chen said nothing, studying Qian Biao with quiet approval. Earlier, Ma Chao had investigated Qian Biao's past thoroughly. 

Though Qian Biao had left the Northern Frontier eight years ago, some things… weren't entirely his fault. 

"The Yang family is beyond redemption. I won't stay," Qian Biao finally said, his eyes bloodshot. 

"Then you can die with him." 

Yang Xiangming's eyes narrowed, murder gleaming in their depths. 

Qian Biao clenched his jaw, shielding Yang Chen like a human barricade. "When they fire, I'll take the bullets. You two run." 

He knew the strength of the Northern Frontier's elite. He had faith in Yang Chen and Ma Chao. But for himself—he was ready to die. 

Yang Chen suddenly chuckled. He stepped forward, placing a hand on Qian Biao's shoulder. "If I say you won't die, then no one can kill you." 

His words were arrogant, domineering. Yet Qian Biao didn't doubt them for a second. His heart pounded. *Had the young Guardian of the Northern Frontier truly reached such heights?* 

"Hahaha—!" 

The Yang family burst into laughter, derisive and loud. 

When Yang Xiangming finally stopped laughing, his eyes glinted with malice. "Let's see how you stop me from killing him when he's staring down a dozen guns." 

"Shall we test it?" 

Yang Chen's lips curled, his demeanor relaxed. 

"Yang Chen, don't think I don't know what you're playing at. You assume I won't touch you because of your ties to the Yu family." 

Yang Xiangming smirked, as if he'd seen through everything. "I've done my research. Over a decade ago, the Yu family cast you out. Even if they handed Yancheng Group to you, all you control is a tiny branch in Jiangzhou. The real power still lies with the Yu family!" 

"Do you really think *that* makes me hesitate to kill you?" 

Yang Chen shook his head. *"Ignorance breeds recklessness. You have no idea what opportunity your family just lost… or what kind of existence you've provoked."* 

"Arrogant fool!" Yang Xiangming spat. "Since you're so proud, I'll kill your dog first. Let's see if you keep that smirk then." 

A cold light flashed in Yang Chen's eyes. *Insulting his brother was a death sentence.* 

"Fire!" Yang Xiangming barked. 

Qian Biao's face drained of color. The instant the order left Yang Xiangming's lips, he lunged to shield Yang Chen. 

"Get down!" 

Yang Chen's command was sharp. His hand clamped on Qian Biao's shoulder, forcing him to the ground. 

Ma Chao was faster. The moment Yang Xiangming spoke, he'd already dropped flat. 

***BANG! BANG! BANG!—*** 

Gunfire erupted, deafening in the Yang estate. 

And then—Yang Chen vanished. 

Like a phantom, his movements were untraceable. 

Every gunman fired once… only to find their targets prone. As for Yang Chen? *Gone.* It was as if they'd seen a ghost. 

Then— 

Yang Chen's hand swept through the air, plucking a handful of leaves from a nearby tree. With a flick of his wrist— 

***Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!—*** 

Soft sounds, like whispers. 

One by one, the gunmen collapsed. Each had a single crimson dot between their brows—a leaf embedded deep, piercing straight through their skulls. 

It happened in the blink of an eye. No one saw how. They only witnessed Yang Chen casually plucking leaves… and then a dozen men lay dead, their eyes wide with disbelief. 

***Killing with leaves.*** 

Silence. 

Absolute, suffocating silence. 

Yang Xiangming trembled uncontrollably, as if trapped in a nightmare. His greatest trump card hadn't been Qian Biao—it was those dozen armed men. 

Now, they were dead. No warning. No chance to react. Their faces still bore the same expressions, frozen in shock. 

Qian Biao, forced to the ground by Yang Chen, had only heard the gunfire—then sudden silence. 

When he stood, the gunmen were already corpses. A thin line of blood marked each forehead, blooming like rose petals.