A heretical cultivator in Bureau 749, I'm the fiercest at pulling out tendons and skinning peop

The Dark Lord was stunned by her scolding, mainly because he didn't understand it.

Zhao Ya didn't care whether he understood or not.

After she finished cursing, she bent down, grabbed the Dark Night Demon King by the hair, and lifted him off the ground.

Then, taking a deep breath, he mustered all his strength and slammed his head down onto the ground.

"Thump!"

A muffled thud was heard, and the ground shook.

The Night Demon King felt as if his head had been hit by a hammer; he saw stars, his ears were ringing, and he was completely dazed.

But Zhao Ya didn't give him a chance to catch his breath; she picked him up again and slammed him down again.

"Thump!"

"Thump!"

"Thump!"

One strike after another, each one more powerful and heavier than the last, like pile driving, full of rhythm.

The ground was riddled with craters, with flying debris and billowing dust, making it look like a construction site.

The officials standing nearby were all dumbfounded.

They all had their mouths agape and their eyes wide open; the expressions on their faces were truly fascinating.

Wasn't that Night Demon King just showing off his power? Wasn't he beating them to a pulp? How come he's being used as a punching bag and smashed on the ground in the blink of an eye?

And the person who hit him was a woman who looked gentle and pretty?

Did they pick up the wrong script?

But Zhao Ya's performance wasn't over yet.

She hit him seven or eight times, but seemed to think that hitting his head alone wasn't enough, so she changed her position.

She loosened the Dark Lord's hair, grabbed his collar instead, and then made a fist with her other hand, starting to hit him.

Wing Chun, the Sun-shaped Fist.

The fists were fast and dense, raining down on the Dark Night Demon King, making him tremble all over as if he were being electrocuted.

"Serves you right for flirting with me! Serves you right for being a show-off! Serves you right for wearing a white suit! Serves you right for wearing a top hat! Serves you right for being pretentious! Serves you right for being pretentious! Serves you right for being pretentious!"

Every curse word is followed by a punch.

Every punch landed squarely on the Dark Night Demon King, so hard that he couldn't even scream, only letting out muffled groans.

Those around them were dumbfounded.

Especially those low-level officials, their eyes practically popped out of their sockets.

They've seen fierce things before, but never anything this fierce.

This woman looks so gentle and weak, how come she's so fierce when she fights?

Where the hell did this tigress come from?

After Zhao Ya finished a set of Wing Chun moves, she still seemed unsatisfied and changed her stance again.

She bent down, grabbed the Dark Lord's ankle, lifted him upside down, took a deep breath, swung her arm, and began slamming him to the ground.

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

One after another, he pounded back and forth, like pounding rice cakes, with a great sense of rhythm.

The Dark Lord was swung around like a rag doll, powerless to resist, and could only let her do as she pleased.

The ground was riddled with craters, with flying debris and billowing dust, making it look just like the surface of the moon.

The people around were completely dumbfounded.

They were speechless, and could only stare blankly as Zhao Ya put on her "smashing people show".

Zhao Ya swung the Dark Night Demon King around and smashed it a dozen times, seemingly finally feeling relieved. Then she casually tossed it aside like trash.

The Night Demon King lay on the ground, covered in blood, his clothes tattered, looking as if he had just been pulled out of a meat grinder—a truly gruesome sight.

He lay there, motionless, and it was impossible to tell whether he was dead or alive.

Zhao Ya clapped her hands, tidied her slightly disheveled clothes and hair, and then resumed her gentle and soft demeanor, as if nothing had happened.

She turned her head to look at Ji Zuodao, a sweet smile on her face:

"Son, was Mom a little too violent just now?"

Ji Zuodao swallowed hard, feeling a chill run down his spine.

Damn it, my mom only looks like she's at the first or second level of the Dharma Aspect Realm. I'm already at the Divine Power Realm, so why do I still feel scared?

He instinctively picked up Qiqi and held her in front of him, then forced a smile that looked more like a grimace:

"No, no, Mom, those moves you made just now were so clean and efficient, so fluid and graceful, so pleasing to the eye! You're simply a heroine, a female warrior, a modern-day Mulan, a living Mu Guiying!"

Zhao Ya beamed with joy at his praise, walked over and pinched his cheek: "You're so good with words."

Ji Zuodao dared not move as she pinched his face, and could only force a smile.

But inside, he was screaming: Damn it, I absolutely must never make Mom angry again! Absolutely not! Never, ever!

Otherwise, if he ever upsets her, he doesn't want to personally experience that Wing Chun punch and the rice cake-throwing combo.

He calmed himself down and remembered the important matter: the Dark Lord was still lying on the ground.

My mom just gave that guy a good beating; I reckon he's broken bones, dislocated internal organs, and is barely clinging to life.

You have to peel off the skin while it's still hot, or it won't be fresh.

As Ji Zuodao pondered this, he turned around, preparing to deal with the Dark Night Demon King.

At first glance—

The ground was empty.

The Night Demon King, who had been lying there like a dead dog, was gone.

Only a pool of blood and a few broken teeth remained, proving that he had indeed been there.

Holy crap? Where did everyone go?

Ji Zuodao suddenly raised his head and looked up at the sky.

In the night sky, the Dark Lord was seen flying unsteadily upwards, with a pair of enormous black wings sprouting from his back.

The wings looked like crow wings, jet black, with glossy feathers that shimmered faintly in the moonlight.

He flew erratically, like a drunkard, clearly showing that Zhao Ya's brutal beating had seriously injured him. But he continued to fly upwards, cursing back as he went:

"Baka! You old woman! You just wait and see! I, the Dark Night Demon King, will remember this grudge! One day, I will return to take my revenge! And then, I will..."

Before he could finish speaking, a furious roar came from below:

"An old woman?!"

Zhao Ya had already returned to her gentle and sweet demeanor, and was holding Qi Qi, preparing to continue drinking her bubble tea.

She understands Japanese, and her expression changed instantly upon hearing the words "old woman".

That look in his eyes was so cold it could freeze a cow to death.

She shoved the bubble tea in her hand into Ji Zuodao's hand, then put Qiqi on the ground. She looked up at the Dark Night Demon King flying shakily in the sky and a cold smile appeared on her lips.

That smile looked gentle, but the chill hidden beneath sent a shiver down the spines of everyone present.

"Fine, fine, you son of a bitch, you're really something."

Zhao Ya spoke in Sichuan dialect, her voice not loud, but every word carried a murderous aura, like a knife, sharp enough to hurt one's ears.

"You like to fly, don't you? Fine, I'll let you fly to your heart's content today!"

The next second, a huge Dharma image slowly emerged.

Standing tens of feet tall, towering into the sky, clad in a white skirt armor.

Four flags were planted behind it, each embroidered with a flame pattern. They moved and fluttered even without wind, as if a real fire was burning.

A sword hung at his waist, its scabbard inlaid with seven gems.

He held a huge banana leaf fan in his left hand, the surface of which was painted with mountains, rivers, sun, moon and stars, as if it contained a world within it.

She stood there, looking down upon all living beings, like a war god descended to earth, majestic and inviolable.

Dharma form!

Princess Iron Fan!