Mad Dragon gets out of prison and marries a beautiful CEO.

Chapter 101

The driver floored the accelerator, and the car shook violently on the bumpy road, its chassis constantly hitting protruding rocks, threatening to shatter Ye Zong's gallbladder.

He was the only one among the hall masters of the Juxian Chamber of Commerce who was not good at martial arts but rose to a high position by relying on mediocre medical skills and strategies.

If Lu Changgeng hadn't been concerned about saving face, he would have eliminated his savior long ago and replaced him with a more loyal new generation.

It's not that the new generation won't betray, it's just that they don't have the deep roots of these old hands and can't shake the chairman's position.

But the two off-road vehicles behind them caught up even faster, clearly much more familiar with the terrain.

The first SUV came up from the left, its front end blocking the rear fender of Ye Zong's car, and then suddenly turned the steering wheel.

Amidst the ear-piercing metallic scraping sound, Ye Zong's car was jolted off the road, its left front wheel sank into the roadside ditch, the front of the car suddenly sank downwards, the chassis got stuck on the roadbed, and the engine roared twice before shutting down.

The driver climbed out of the front seat. It was an old man; his head had been smashed open with an iron rod, and red and white matter splattered everywhere.

Ye Zong climbed out of the car, but before he could even stand up, a shadow flashed from the SUV and quickly took care of the bodyguard who had just climbed out of the car.

Another shadow came and kicked Ye Zong in the stomach, causing his face to slam into the gravel and leave a bloody mark. He rolled over and tried to shrink back, but his back hit the car wheel, leaving him with nowhere to retreat.

Two people wearing half-face masks stood in front of him.

One of them was holding a knife, the tip of which was still dripping blood.

"Master Ye," the one holding the knife squatted down, his voice unhurried, "the old chairman asked us to pass on a message to you..."

"How much did Lu Changgeng pay you?! I'll pay double! Triple, whatever!" Ye Zong's voice cracked as he leaned back, bracing himself against the rubble. "How much did he pay you? Name your price!"

The person squatting tilted their head, as if thinking for a moment, then smiled:

"What the old chairman gave us wasn't money. Master Ye, the old chairman covered for you all these years for secretly raising Master Guigu and using Gu magic to kill those business owners. I never expected you to betray us like this. Today we're settling the accounts for him as a way of repaying his favor."

"Favors? What's a favor worth? I even saved his life, and he still sent you to kill me!"

Ye Zong roared in frustration.

The crouching man's knife did not stop despite his roar.

The first cut landed on the inside of Ye Zong's left ankle. The sound of tendons snapping and Ye Zong's scream bursting from his throat exploded simultaneously.

The blood that seeped into the cracks of the gravel turned black from the scorching sun. Ye Zong arched his back as if he had been electrocuted, his head hitting the wheel arch, and his vision went black in waves.

The second time.

The tendon in my right ankle was also torn.

Ye Zong couldn't make a sound this time. It was as if something had sucked all the air out of his lungs, leaving only a dry, hoarse sound in his throat.

His fingers were stuck in the rubble, his fingernails were torn off, and the blood and mud mixed together dug several shallow grooves into the ground.

The third time.

Fourth time.

With a cut on each wrist, the tendons were severed, and the sensation of the tendons retracting into the carpal tunnels was so intense that even the masked assassin felt it was a bit much. When sheathing the knife, he slightly deflected the blade, adding another deep, bone-revealing cut to the left wrist bone.

Ye Zong's limbs were now completely out of control, lying on the ground like a lump of flesh with bones removed. Only his chest was still rising and falling, and his lips were opening and closing, but it was impossible to hear what he was saying.

The assassin holding the knife stood up, rubbed the blade against the sole of Ye Zong's shoe, then squatted back down and used the tip of the knife to lift Ye Zong's chin:

"The old chairman said he'd leave you with a breath, to let you die slowly."

He raised the knife and aimed it at Ye Zong's chest. It wasn't a fatal wound, but the knife would pierce through Ye Zong's lung, enough to make Ye Zong dependent on a ventilator forever.

A car sped into the barren field, braked abruptly, and left a long tire mark on the gravel and mud.

Chen Li got out of the car, his gaze already sweeping over the scene on the ground.

The two masked people turned around at the same time.

The man holding the knife removed the tip from Ye Zong's chin, straightened up, and sized up Chen Li.

Another hand was placed behind his waist, as if he was touching something.

"Release them, then you can leave."

Chen Li tried to persuade them not to kill Ye Zong out of a fit of pique.

The man holding the knife looked at him for two seconds, then smiled. His mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes curved upwards, and the smile overflowed from his eyes with the contempt that only a professional assassin would show when facing an amateur.

"You think you can stop the two of us?"

He took two steps toward Chen Li, switched the knife to his left hand, and reached for his lower back with his right hand. "Your car is nice. I'll take over for you later..."

Chen Li made a move.

He was twice as fast as the man had anticipated.

The change from standing still to striking was like a beam of light that had been refracted, without any warning.

The first move was to sidestep the first knife that was swung at him.

He anticipated the knife-wielder's starting stance a fraction of a second in advance, and the blade grazed two inches from the outside of his left arm without even touching his clothing.

At the same time, Chen Li's right elbow swung up from below and struck the center of the knife-wielding man's throat, the force penetrating the soft tissue between the cervical vertebrae and the trachea.

Before the man could even make a sound, he was lifted half a foot off the ground and then flew more than three meters away. His head hit the foundation of the abandoned brick kiln, and his neck slid to the ground at an unnatural angle, where he remained motionless.

The second person reacted a little slower.

His hand had just touched the gun handle at his lower back when Chen Li was already right in front of him.

The short blade slid out of his sleeve, its tip precisely embedding itself in the shoulder blade gap of the hand holding the gun, piercing the weak area between the deltoid and infraspinatus muscles, and locking the shoulder joint's range of motion.

The man instinctively loosened his grip before he could even draw his gun, and swung his left hand to retaliate, but Chen Li slapped it away with a palm strike, then slashed horizontally with his short blade, creating a shallow cut in the throat—not deep, but enough to sever the trachea and artery.

The second person collapsed, clutching his neck, blood gushing from between his fingers, turning a shocking dark red in the blazing afternoon sun.

Chen Li wiped the short blade clean on his trouser leg and put it away.

The whole process took less than five seconds, including the time it took him to wipe the blood off the blade.

He turned around, walked to Ye Zong's side, squatted down, and examined each of the severed tendons.

The left ankle, right ankle, left wrist, and right wrist were all precisely severed at key locations, with additional fractures caused by blunt force trauma to the joints.

Even if this person is saved, their limbs will be completely useless, and they will need someone to push them in their wheelchair.

Ye Zong's eyes were unfocused, and his cloudy gaze lingered on Chen Li's face for a long time before finally managing to focus.

His lips moved, the sound like wind blowing through torn paper:

"Green... Green Lotus..."

"She's on her way, so save your energy and don't say anything yet."

Chen Li took a towel out of the car, tore it into four pieces, and applied pressure to stop the bleeding from Ye Zong's broken limbs. Then he carefully lifted Ye Zong off the gravel ground and put him in the back seat of the car.

Ye Zong's body felt much lighter, as if his blood had been drained and he had shrunk in size.

Chen Li started the car and returned along the same route.

As I drove out of the intersection, my phone rang. It was Ye Qinglian calling.

Her voice was hushed on the phone, but you could still tell she was very nervous.

"How is my godfather?"

Chen Li replied:

"He's alive, but badly injured. He needs to be taken to the hospital. I'll send you the address."