The cane wasn’t too thick, about the size of a child’s arm, but the material was special, Ma Dazhuang had specifically gone into the mountains to find it. This type of wood was extremely hard and had been polished smooth. Yet, Fang Zichen seemed to snap it effortlessly with just a light twist.
Old Master Ma was thoroughly humiliated, trembling with rage: "You arrogant brat! Offend our Ma family, and I’ll make sure you can’t survive in this village!"
"Are you threatening me?"
Fang Zichen narrowed his eyes, his gaze sharp and ruthless.
An eighteen-year-old youth—rebellious, defiant, and utterly unyielding.
He wasn’t afraid in the slightest. "In all my years, no one’s ever dared to speak to me like that. You’re the first. Maybe you don’t know what kind of person I used to be. At thirteen, I carried a broadsword into enemy turf to cut people down. A bunch of lowlifes like you wouldn’t even be enough for me to beat up, yet you dare threaten me?" He raised a finger and pointed around at the crowd. "All of you, get lost. Or I’ll beat you to death."
His intimidation was flawless. Madam Ma instinctively turned to look at her husband.
"You dare?" Old Master Ma challenged.
"Leaving or not?"
Fang Zichen’s face darkened as he strode straight toward him. Ma Dazhuang stepped in front of his father, blocking Fang Zichen. "What do you think you’re doing?"
Fang Zichen answered with action—one hand pressed on Ma Dazhuang’s shoulder, the other forming a fist that slammed into his stomach.
The punch landed swift and decisive, in the blink of an eye.
"Ah—!!"
At Ma Dazhuang’s scream, Zhao Ger jerked his head up, stunned.
Silence fell over the scene.
Then, gradually, people began reacting.
"...Oh my god, this…"
The villagers watching outside the courtyard were shocked. No one expected Fang Zichen who was fair-skinned and refined-looking to resort to violence so suddenly, even more reckless than a brute.
That punch carried terrifying force. Ma Dazhuang clutched his stomach, curled up on the ground, groaning and unable to get up.
"Husband!" Madam Ma rushed to help him, but Ma Dazhuang, sweating from pain, gasped, "D-don’t… move me."
"You bastard, how dare you hit my brother!" Ma’s second and third uncles exchanged a glance before lunging at Fang Zichen together.
If they didn’t teach Fang Zichen a lesson today, how could the Ma family ever hold their heads high in Xiaohe Village again?
The villagers feared them not just because they were unreasonable bullies, but also because they worried the Ma brothers might actually kill someone in a fight.
All three brothers were burly, violent, and not to be trifled with.
As the two surrounded Fang Zichen, someone muttered fearfully, "They’re really fighting, what do we do? Where’s the village chief?"
"The village chief doesn’t have four legs, he can’t get here that fast."
"Should we try to… stop—"
Before the words even finished, Ma Erzhu threw a punch straight at Fang Zichen’s face. The fist whistled through the air, but Fang Zichen tilted his head slightly, dodged, and seized Ma Erzhu’s wrist. In the same motion, he spun and delivered a sharp kick to Ma Sanzhu, who was trying to ambush him from behind.
The kick landed on Ma Sanzhu’s temple. His ears rang, the world spun, and he crumpled to the ground.
"You bastard—!"
Ma Erzhu twisted his wrist but couldn’t break free. Fang Zichen’s grip was terrifyingly strong.
Seeing his brothers fall one after another, Ma Erzhu cursed furiously, "You f*cking bastard, let go—!"
Fang Zichen wrenched his wrist.
Crack.
It broke.
"Watch your f*cking mouth. Who’s the bastard here?"
The wives of the three brothers stood frozen, their usual shrieking and flailing completely forgotten.
This outsider fought viciously, he might even hit women.
Ma Erzhu clutched his wrist, howling. Fang Zichen kicked him in the shoulder, sending him sprawling, then walked over to Old Master Ma, who was trembling uncontrollably. Grabbing his collar, he hauled him up and, in a voice icy enough to freeze blood, said, "I told you to leave. But you had to bring your sons to my doorstep and act tough. You got a death wish?"
"What the hell are you doing, Fang Zichen? Have you lost your mind?!" The village chief arrived late.
Pushing through the crowd, he saw the Ma brothers all on the ground, none able to stand, and Fang Zichen looking ready to attack Old Master Ma next. He was livid.
Suppressing his anger, he said to Fang Zichen, "Put him down right now! Are you really going to hit an old man?"
"Why not?" Fang Zichen didn’t release his grip. His entire demeanor radiated menace as he sneered at Old Master Ma. "Respect begets respect. If the elder isn’t kind, why should the young be filial? If an old man has no dignity, what’s wrong with teaching him a lesson?"
The logic was sound.
The village chief couldn’t refute it. "But hitting an elder is still wrong. Let him go."
Fang Zichen said, "I never said I’d hit him." He released Old Master Ma and stepped back.
The old man’s legs gave out, and he staggered into the arms of his daughters-in-law.
Fang Zichen scoffed.
He was just scaring them, he wasn’t deranged enough to actually punch an old man.
"Look at this mess. What do you plan to do now?" the village chief demanded.
"What to do?" Fang Zichen found it almost amusing. Lowering his gaze, he said, "Isn’t it simple? Tell them to get lost. Problem solved."
His eyes held no warmth, cold enough to send chills down the spine. His lean frame somehow exuded overwhelming pressure.
The village chief studied him, sensing something different about him today.
After his father had recovered slightly, he’d told him about what happened in the mountains—how Fang Zichen claimed he ate meat every meal, that plain rice tasted bland without it.
What kind of family could afford meat with every meal these days? Even town folks weren’t that extravagant.
And that night when Fang Zichen brought the old man home, he hadn’t even recognized coarse rice and couldn’t do any chores. With his scholarly air, he was likely from a wealthy family.
No wonder.
Rich young masters had terrible tempers. Given the Ma father and sons’ behavior, it was a mercy Fang Zichen hadn’t killed them outright.
Understanding now, the village chief sighed and turned to the Ma family. "You heard him. Are you leaving, or do you want to keep causing trouble?"
Was that even a question? Their main fighters were all down.
Of course they had to leave.
They stood no chance against Fang Zichen.
Madam Ma pointed at Zhao Ger and asked weakly, "We won’t make trouble anymore, but what about that sl—Zhao Ger? Our family will never take back a shameless, unfaithful ger like him."
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