Chapter 13 Let Me Go

"You!"
Ye Song had not expected this guy to put on airs right in front of her. If there were anyone else who could cure her grandfather, Zhuang Zhou would have been fed a bullet long ago.
"What about me? If you want your grandfather to live, you'd better humble yourself a bit. Stop acting all high and mighty every day. What’s wrong? Can’t you even manage a smile?" Zhuang Zhou couldn’t stand people who strutted about, cold and arrogant. He was not just any ordinary man from the lower rungs of society—he was a Poison Immortal from another world.
"Are you toying with me?" Ye Song was so furious her teeth ached. She had not the slightest good impression of Zhuang Zhou. She’d already investigated his background thoroughly—this fellow was utterly unaccomplished.
He had barely squeezed his way into Dongjiang Medical University, and just look at his major—nursing. And not just any nursing, but the legendary male nurse, even rarer than endangered species, and not even considered a real doctor.
Besides, his grades in nursing were abysmal.
He spent his days holed up in the internet cafe near campus, his academic performance always at the bottom. Normally, he was a timid, unremarkable character, and after offending the class leader for reasons unknown, he became the target of daily bullying and isolation, with only his roommates treating him with any decency. No one else even spared him a glance.
Zhuang Zhou was a wimp, and, worse, a fraud.
He duped his parents into thinking the school would assign him a job after graduation, that he’d be a doctor of some sort, when in fact the nursing program offered no such prospects, and male nurses were looked down upon. He fooled his teachers with tales of hardship and unpaid tuition, when all his money went to internet cafes. He borrowed money from classmates and never returned it, and there were even rumors of sneaky behavior—though never caught red-handed, his character was clear enough.
Now, this guy had come to deceive her. How could Ye Song endure it?
When she received Zhuang Zhou’s entire dossier, she’d been so furious she wanted to shoot him on the spot.
And now, he dared threaten her? Ye Song’s patience had reached its limit.
"Zhuang Zhou, don’t think I don’t know what kind of scum you are. Just the sight of garbage like you disgusts me! If you can’t cure my grandfather, you’ll die an ugly death. I doubt anyone will question an extra corpse, smashed to bits, on a nameless graveyard. Don’t think I won’t do it—no one would care if I wiped out a piece of trash like you!"
Ye Song stepped up to Zhuang Zhou, flicked her wrist, and pressed a knife against his throat. Her expression was icy, her words as chilling as winter’s death, "Let me tell you, don’t try to play smart with me. You’re not up to it."
Her specially made, razor-sharp shark knife pressed against Zhuang Zhou’s neck, its edge already slicing his skin, drawing beads of blood.
"I know you’re scum, a liar. If anything happens to my grandfather, I’ll bury your whole family with him. I, Ye Song, keep my word," she snarled.

Zhuang Zhou hadn’t expected this woman to switch faces so quickly. His own expression didn’t change at all, even with the sharp blade at his throat. He didn’t so much as blink.
But her last words set him ablaze.
A dragon has its reverse scale—touch it and you die. Ye Song’s words were a spark thrown into a powder keg. Zhuang Zhou exploded.
A cold light flashed in his eyes. Threatening his family? Zhuang Zhou’s response was swift and violent.
Suddenly, Zhuang Zhou struck. Ye Song never saw it coming—before she could react, the shark knife pressed to his throat was already in his hand. He shoved her away, and her curvy form was thrown across the room, pinned to the corner by an irresistible force. Without hesitation, Zhuang Zhou hurled the knife back at her.
With a piercing whistle, a gleam of cold steel shot straight at Ye Song’s forehead. She didn’t scream like any ordinary girl. She’d faced danger far greater than this without batting an eyelash.
Thud!
The knife buried itself to the hilt in the white cement wall, the handle vibrating with a low, menacing hum—right by her ear.
Fury.
Ye Song, with a temper honed as fierce as any man’s, had never been so threatened. Just as she prepared to retaliate, Zhuang Zhou’s body was already upon her, his palm landing hard against her other ear. There was a sharp crack—the wall splitting, bits of debris flying.
As Zhuang Zhou moved in, Ye Song instinctively jerked her knee upward, aiming for his groin. But his other hand, shaped like a tiger’s claw, caught her behind the knee with a dull thud. It felt like kicking iron—her strength drained as numbness spread through her leg.
Ye Song trusted her own skills, but the moment Zhuang Zhou gripped her right leg, she lost most of her power.
Taking advantage, Zhuang Zhou pressed even closer.
"Bastard! What do you think you’re doing?" Ye Song snapped, panicked.
Zhuang Zhou was momentarily dazed—he felt as if he might catch cold again tonight and would need a few more blankets. Gazing at the proud, mountainous curves before him, Zhuang Zhou found new meaning in the phrase, "greatness lies in capacity." Otherwise, how could there be such an astonishing figure?
The leg he held was long and beautifully shaped, the muscle taut and perfectly defined, smooth to the touch.
It’s said that third-rate men look at faces, second-rate at chests, but first-rate men look at legs. A slender waist and perky hips are nothing compared to a pair of flawless, endless legs. Ye Song’s legs were so lethal that Zhuang Zhou’s traitorous nose began to bleed again.

At that moment, from atop those undulating peaks, a pair of eyes burning with murderous intent fixed upon Zhuang Zhou. A faint, enticing fragrance assailed his senses, and he could feel the terrifying allure of this beautiful woman’s body.
"Let go of me," Ye Song said coldly.
Her icy tone snapped Zhuang Zhou’s mind back into focus. He looked at her flawless, delicate face, so cold and unyielding, and the anger on his own face surfaced once more.
"I loathe threats. Jiang Ping’an nearly killed your grandfather—you let him off. I might be able to save your grandfather, but you threaten me and my family? Officer Ye, what do you think of my skills?"
Before Ye Song could respond, Zhuang Zhou pressed on, voice full of menace, "You’ve seen it yourself, Ye Song. Don’t think you can look down on me just because you have connections. I’m not some pushover for you to knead at will. From now on, if anything happens to my family—no matter how powerful you are—I’ll wipe your family out just the same. Believe it or not. Don’t think I fear your wealth or power. Don’t forget—your grandfather’s life is in my hands. Whether I treat him depends on my mood—and, more importantly, on someone’s attitude! Is this the face you show your grandfather’s savior?"
Zhuang Zhou’s eyes had turned into blood-red serpent pupils. When Ye Song’s gaze met his, a chill swept through her, piercing every pore. She realized with a start that the aura emanating from Zhuang Zhou was nothing less than a murderous intent—one both fierce and overwhelming.
She understood then that his threats were far from empty. Something nagged at her: this was not the timid fool from the intelligence reports. What kind of monster was this Zhuang Zhou before her?
The killing aura radiating from him was like a veteran who'd slaughtered thousands on the battlefield—a presence she could not mistake. In fact, it was a feeling all too familiar to her; one of her uncles carried the same air.
"You… you, you scoundrel!" Confronted by this side of Zhuang Zhou, Ye Song’s resolve wavered. She avoided his eyes, afraid to meet his gaze. Yet when she lowered her head, another shock awaited her.
They were even closer now.
Ye Song was almost pinned against the wall by Zhuang Zhou, her right leg held firmly by his hand, their bodies pressed tightly together. Rage flared within her—never before had a man dared such intimacy!
The blood-red gleam faded from Zhuang Zhou’s eyes. He realized that, to his surprise, he rather enjoyed the close contact with this beauty. But the Poison Immortal’s will was formidable—he stepped back instinctively, though the lingering sensation was oddly pleasant. Inwardly, he praised her—this military woman was indeed something else.
"Bastard, I’ll shoot you!"
Ye Song was about to explode from rage. When had she ever been taken advantage of like this? So what if Zhuang Zhou exuded a killing aura? For a woman, if she loved you, you were her whole world; if not, what did it matter? Ye Song certainly did not love Zhuang Zhou—she hated him with a passion.
Hot-tempered as ever, she whipped out her pistol, leveling the black muzzle straight at Zhuang Zhou.
Zhuang Zhou instantly knew she’d lost control. He moved faster than thought, disarming her with bare hands and flinging the gun aside. Without hesitation, he pressed in again, pinning Ye Song in the corner, this time covering her mouth with his hand as he dragged her into an empty hospital room.