Love You for the Rest of My Life-Chapter 1449: A Dragon Has a Reverse Scale, Touch It and You Shall Die!

"You want to play games with me? Before we start, you better weigh your worth carefully. I’m not going to say much. Time’s about right, and I need to go back to my wife now. Old Miao, this is all on you—don’t blame me for your self-inflicted ruin. You destroyed the friendship I forged with Miao Wu when I took the fall for her back then. Since you and your grandson are so unwilling to show your faces, let it stay that way forever."

As he spoke, his smile bloomed, dazzlingly beautiful. But don’t be deceived by his captivating expression—his tone was ice-cold to an extreme.

Nangong Jin was exactly this kind of person, one who smiled like a spring breeze, enough to captivate hearts, but whose presence instilled bone-deep fear.

Moreover, he enjoyed playing games. Even in situations like this, he appeared approachable and easygoing, but the reality was far from it.

The brighter the smile, the more toxic it becomes—just like the seductive Mandala flower, intoxicating yet dripping with venom. Fatal, absolutely fatal.

"No, Lord Jin, please!" Old Miao shivered uncontrollably. The situation had turned around far too quickly. What he had believed to be a guaranteed victory had suddenly flipped into a crushing defeat—he was utterly caught off guard.

He tried to step forward again, but several burly men stopped him instantly. He couldn’t even get close to Nangong Jin. Then, the cold, unyielding barrel of a gun was aimed squarely at his head.

His mouth was covered, silencing him completely; he couldn’t make a single sound.

Nangong Jin ceased his smile, tilting his head slightly to glance at Old Miao. His long, elegant fingers moved just a little, and Xiaowu immediately stepped forward to light a cigarette for him.

Then, Nangong Jin curled his lips into a faint smile, exhaled a luxurious smoke ring with practiced ease, and began to speak in a slow but icily frigid tone: "The tale of the farmer and the snake; I learned it as a child, but rarely have I seen it playing out firsthand. You pulling this stunt on me—it actually caught me by surprise. But Old Miao, mark my words: the me from ten years ago and the me now are two entirely different people. You think you can play with me? You’re simply unworthy. Killing isn’t my preference; I resolve what I can. But you’ve forced my hand today. To keep you alive is to endanger my wife, and while you may threaten me, you will never gamble with her safety. Remember this: dragons have reverse scales—touch them, and you will surely die."

Dragons have reverse scales—touch them, and you will surely die!

Old Miao shuddered violently, his voice trembling as he struggled to ask, "You have a presence in Miaojiang as well?"

Old Miao still struggled to make sense of it. After all, his Miao Family was a highly secretive and ancient clan in Miaojiang—a lineage of the Witch Clan, nearly impossible to trace in today’s society.

The Witch Clan was skilled in the Poisonous Insect Technique, with countless variations. Many wealthy people and officials sought them out for blessings or better fortune.

Still, these practices came with their rules. And even with such rules, their profession granted them a highly esteemed status in Miaojiang.

Many officials, in private, were wary of them precisely because Miaojiang was deeply entrenched in the belief and reverence of the Poisonous Insect Technique.

So, no matter how domineering Nangong Jin might be in the Empire’s capital, it was implausible for his influence to extend into Miaojiang—this land had always remained mystic and tumultuous. Its rulers, drug lords, merchants, and the Witch Clan continuously rejected any outsider interference.

How could Nangong Jin possibly have captured his entire Witch Clan in such a short span of time?

This was incomprehensible—utterly impossible!

And—Nangong Jin’s acting was far too perfect!

Just moments ago, Nangong Jin had seemingly shown great distress and fury, leading Old Miao to believe he had complete leverage to force him into submission. Who would have thought that everything had been a farce?