Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)-Chapter 195: Xiang Yu’s revenge

Yee Ming’s hands trembled as she clutched the tablet, her knuckles white against the sleek, cold surface. The image on the screen was a dagger to her heart, each pixel a betrayal.

The man’s face, with its unmistakable resemblance to Die Liang, stared back at her with smiling eyes. Her husband had broken the one rule she had set, the one boundary she had drawn in their unconventional marriage.

Her fury was a storm, brewing and churning within her, threatening to spill over. But she was no ordinary woman. She was the matriarch of the Die clan, and her responsibilities extended beyond her personal grievances.

Yee Ming took a deep breath, forcing the tempest within her to calm. She could not afford to let her emotions dictate her actions. The clan’s honour was at stake, and she would not allow the Dragon Head to use this scandal as a pretext to establish his power. She had to protect Die Liang, not out of love, but out of duty to her family and their legacy.

The Dragon Head’s voice was smooth, almost soothing, as he spoke. "Well, I don’t want to escalate things and cause bloodshed. All I want is for your patriarch to accept punishment with no resistance, and I will be on my merry way."

Yee Ming’s eyes narrowed her anger now a cold, hard resolve. She handed the tablet back to the man beside her, her movements deliberate and controlled. "Like I thought... Ming Ming is the most loyal," Han Jing (The Dragon Head) continued, a sly smile playing on his lips. "As for your husband, I wouldn’t say the same."

She snorted, a sound of derision and defiance. "Loyalty is a complex thing," she replied, her voice steady. "It is not just about fidelity, but about understanding one’s place and duty. Die Liang will face his punishment, but it will be by my hand, not yours."

Han Jing’s eyes were cold and unyielding as he shifted his gaze towards Die Liang. "Since you are the head of the clan, you should make the final decision," he said, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Either you accept your punishment like you should or... someone else will take the punishment for you."

He pressed play on the video, and Die Liang’s heart sank as the screen flickered to life. His illegitimate son appeared, tied up, his face bruised and swollen, tears streaming down his cheeks. The man’s pitiful cries echoed through the room, his voice hoarse from begging for his life. Snot mingled with blood on his lips, painting a picture of utter despair.

Die Liang’s rage ignited like wildfire. "Han Jing, you bastard!" he roared, his voice shaking with fury. He lunged forward, his fists clenched, aiming to strike the Dragon Head. But before he could reach him, Han Xin stepped in, his movements swift and precise. With a powerful kick to Die Liang’s chest, Han Xin sent him flying backwards. Di Liang crashed into the coffee table, the impact knocking the wind out of him.

The Dragon Head rose from his seat, his expression one of cold satisfaction. "So, you have chosen to sacrifice your son," he said, his tone dripping with malice. "Don’t worry, I will return him to you... without an arm, of course."

Die Liang’s eyes widened in horror. "No, no, no!" he pleaded, his voice desperate. "What do you want? Tell me what you want, and we can get this over and done with." The Dragon Head’s smile was cruel as he looked down at Die Liang before walking away his steps slow and deliberate.

Yee Ming’s fury was a palpable force, her eyes blazing as she watched her husband grovel before the Dragon Head for the sake of a wild child born out of his indiscretions. Her anger was a tempest, swirling and crashing within her, but she felt powerless to stop the scene unfolding before her.

"Stand up!" she yelled, her voice cracking with the intensity of her emotions. She grabbed Die Liang’s arm, trying to pull him to his feet, but he shrugged her off with a rough motion. The sudden rejection caused her to stumble, and her son caught her just in time, steadying her with a firm grip.

"Die Liang, are you crazy?" she screamed, her voice echoing through the room. But Die Liang ignored her, his focus entirely on Han Jing. His pleas were desperate, his voice raw with emotion.

"Please... I will do anything," said Die Liang his heart pounding in his chest. He had no choice but to comply.

Han Jing’s steps paused, and he turned around with a smirk that sent chills down Yee Ming’s spine. "If that’s the case then you must accept the punishment for your crimes. You will have to give up your business at the port and accept ten strikes according to the rules," he declared, his tone dripping with satisfaction. ƒreewebɳovel.com

"Die Liang, don’t you dare!" Yee Ming’s shrill voice cut through the air, but it was as if her words fell on deaf ears. Die Liang immediately agreed, his desperation evident. He couldn’t bear the thought of his son losing an arm, and he believed he could find a way to reclaim his business later. As for the physical punishment, he thought he could endure it, underestimating Han Jing’s cruelty.

Han Jing’s smile widened, an evil glint in his eyes. "Good," he said, turning to the men standing behind him. As an elder, he would not dirty his hands with the task. His gaze settled on Xiang Yu, and he beckoned him over with a commanding gesture. "You, come here."

Han Xin’s brows furrowed slightly as he watched Xiang Yu approach, his back straight and an aura of cold determination surrounding him.

One of the men stepped forward, opening a box that contained a whip, a relic passed down from one Dragon Head to the next. It was a symbol of authority and punishment, rarely used in recent times but feared by all who knew its history. "You better not hold back otherwise I will bestow the same punishment on you, do you understand," said Han Jing, the warning in his voice evident.

Yee Ming’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched the scene unfold. She felt a mix of helplessness and rage, knowing that her husband’s fate was sealed, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The room was thick with tension, the air heavy with the weight of impending violence.