Urban Carefree Warrior God

Yuelan Grand Hotel was one of the most luxurious hotels in Lingjin City, naturally becoming a preferred lodging for the young and wealthy elite.

「That night.」

Outside the hotel, brilliant lights flickered incessantly. A group of reporters blocked the entrance, their keen eyes scanning in all directions. Each held a list of the Qin Corporation's key personnel; whether it was Qin Qiu, Chen Yang, or any other executive, the moment one of them appeared, the reporters would pounce. They would then rush over in a frenzy for an interview, desperate to get their hands on an exclusive scoop.

That afternoon, Yuan Qingyun had issued his final warning. The reporters didn't believe the Qin Corporation would dare to defy the second son of the Haoyu Group.

Yang Hu had naturally learned of this situation in advance, so they smoothly entered the hotel through a staff entrance. A private elevator took them straight to the top floor, where a party was underway on the rooftop terrace.

Before them, a huge stage was shrouded in dry ice fog. The white mist, combined with the colorful spotlights, created an ethereal, fairyland-like atmosphere. A crowd of young men and women writhed wildly on the dance floor, and the air was thick with surging hormones. Seven or eight waiters, holding trays of champagne and fine wine, bustled among the guests.

Chen Yang narrowed his eyes, glanced around, and signaled a waiter. "I want a bottle of Louis XIII," he ordered.

"Sir, all drinks tonight are on Mr. Yuan. You don't need to purchase any separately," the waiter replied with a polite smile.

Yang Hu stepped forward, produced a gold card, and glared. "Just go and get it! Cut the chatter."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Startled by Yang Hu's intimidating glare, the waiter scrambled away.

Chen Yang's action naturally attracted the attention of those nearby, who gathered in small groups to point and whisper.

"What's with that guy, ordering his own drink? Is he trying to disrespect Mr. Yuan?"

"Look at how shabby he is. Does he really think he can put on airs here?"

Unperturbed, Chen Yang leaned against a table and waited quietly.

「A moment later.」

Yuan Qingyun, dressed in a white suit with his hands in his pockets, strolled over leisurely.

"My friend, I don't recall inviting you. Are you crashing my party?" Yuan Qingyun asked, running a hand through his fringe as he stood before Chen Yang. In truth, he already had a guess but didn't voice it immediately.

Chen Yang turned and glanced at Yuan Qingyun. He was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, with sharp eyes. He appeared relaxed, but his aura was potent and focused. With his custom-tailored suit, he at least looked the part.

"My name is Chen Yang," he said flatly.

"Chen Yang?" Yuan Qingyun savored the name for a moment before feigning an epiphany. "Oh, right! You're that good-for-nothing husband of Qin Corporation's Chairwoman, Qin Qiu. My mistake, my mistake."

Yuan Qingyun gave a mocking bow and laughed loudly. "Ever since I set foot in Lingjin City, I've heard of your great reputation as a man who lives off his wife. It's a real honor to finally meet you in person!"

The words immediately drew the eyes of everyone at the party, and ripples of derisive laughter spread through the crowd. The main event has started. This is going to be a good show.

Yuan Qingyun leaned closer to Chen Yang and said with a faint smile, "To be honest, I considered many possibilities, but I never thought the Qin Corporation would send *you*." He shrugged. "But it doesn't matter. I, Yuan Qingyun, enjoy making friends. I have many of them, but not a single one who lives off a woman! Meeting you today fills a certain void in my life, you could say."

With a grand wave of his hand, Yuan Qingyun summoned a nearby waiter. He took two glasses of red wine from the tray, offered one to Chen Yang, and boomed, "Here, I, Yuan Qingyun, will toast to you!"

Just then, the first waiter returned with a bottle of Louis XIII and presented it to Chen Yang.

Ignoring the wine Yuan Qingyun offered, Chen Yang took two clean glasses. He began to pour his own drink, remarking flatly, "Let's drink mine."

He pushed a glass toward Yuan Qingyun, a smirk playing on his lips. "Drink this. It will make for a smooth journey down the Road to Hell."

Yuan Qingyun was stunned into silence. So was everyone else.

What on earth did he just say? Drink his wine and... be on your way? To the afterlife?

Heh... A moment later, many people in the crowd couldn't help but burst out laughing. How could you not laugh at such a reckless fool spouting such arrogant nonsense?

Yuan Qingyun took a small sip of his own wine and chuckled playfully. "Brother Chen, that's some big talk from you. By the way, did you bring the formula?"

Chen Yang pushed the glass of Louis XIII forward again. His eyes, fixed on the man just inches away, held a glint of amusement. "We can talk about the formula later. First, drink."

"Haha!" Yuan Qingyun threw his head back and laughed, shaking his head. "Chen Yang, you can't possibly think I'm a patient man, do you? When I'm in a good mood, I'll joke around. But a piece of trash like you? Me even looking at you is a compliment!"

Yuan Qingyun stood, his aura growing more intense and his expression turning grim. "The formula. Hand it over!"

This was his final ultimatum. The surrounding guests all backed away, lest they get splattered with blood when the fight started.

"I hear you reached the eighth rank at twenty-five," Chen Yang said suddenly. "Hailed as a prodigy of a generation, a true Son of Heaven?"

A smug arc formed on Yuan Qingyun's lips. This was the highlight of his life, a testament to his stunning, incomparable talent that far exceeded his peers.

Chen Yang put down his glass, memories of a past life surging like a tide. "When I was twenty-five, I was leading my troops against the Barbarian invasions. Then came the battle at Hundred Flowers Valley."

Yuan Qingyun's eyebrow twitched. What is this crap?

"Kid, do you think I'm here to trade life stories with you?" he snapped impatiently, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm ordering you now: hand over the formula. If I'm in a good mood, I might just let you live."

"I said, we'll talk about the formula after you drink," Chen Yang repeated, tapping the table and gesturing to the glass.

"Heh!" Yuan Qingyun was finally enraged. "Go to hell!" he snarled.

The last word had barely left his lips when he moved. He took a single step forward, his clenched right fist rocketing toward Chen Yang. The sheer force of the punch generated a shockwave that sent nearby tables and chairs flying seven or eight meters. The crowd retreated further. How terrifying! This Young Master Yuan is truly as formidable as his reputation suggests.

Chen Yang simply waved his right hand.

Instantly, the charging Yuan Qingyun felt a colossal wave of force slam into him.

"Child's play," he scoffed. He threw both fists forward with the might of a legendary king lifting a sacred cauldron, intending to shatter the wave of energy.

BOOM!

The vicious smile on Yuan Qingyun's face hadn't even fully formed when a thunderous crash echoed across the terrace. He was launched into the air as if hit by a battering ram, flipping over countless tables and chairs before slamming hard onto the ground. A fine mist of blood hung in the air around his crumpled, pathetic figure.

"COUGH! COUGH!"

Yuan Qingyun snapped his head up, his eyes wide with shock and pupils bulging. Every hair on his body stood on end.

Chen Yang casually leaned back against the table and pointed to the glass of wine. "Drink up. It's time to be on your way."

Yuan Qingyun was speechless.

The crowd was utterly silent.