Seeing the man captured by Qiu Zhengfeng, Lu Tianxing also stood up from the hospital bed and slowly walked to the man’s side, with a hint of mockery in his eyes, and calmly asked, "It seems you can’t escape. I’m going to ask you a few questions. If you answer honestly, I might consider letting you die a little more comfortably. Otherwise, I don’t mind letting you experience a fate worse than death."

"Do you think I will tell you?"

The man slowly raised his head, looking at Lu Tianxing with a hideous and venomous expression. He was already crippled, and death was a relief for him.

"I think you will tell me."

Lu Tianxing revealed a devilish smile, spread his five fingers, and a stream of True Qi swirled in his palm, then transformed into a sharp blade that whistled out, skimming past the man’s arm.

"Pfft!"

A piece of flesh immediately flew into the air.

Without any pause, Lu Tianxing flicked True Qi from his fingertips, transforming them into sharp blades that skimmed past the man’s arm, accompanied by his pig-like screams, which echoed particularly harshly in the silent hospital ward.

Lu Tianxing moved swiftly, and in the blink of an eye, more than a dozen pieces of flesh, all thin as cicada wings, were scattered on the floor, while the man’s arm was covered in bloody wounds, blood flowing down to stain the floor beneath him.

"I’ll give you another chance. Tell me who sent you."

Lu Tianxing squinted at the man, his expression unchanged, devoid of any sympathy.

Since becoming a mercenary, he understood one thing: mercy to enemies is cruelty to oneself. If they’re enemies, there’s no need for politeness, and no mercy should be shown.

The man’s face twisted with pain, sweat pouring down his forehead, but he said nothing, instead casting a mocking glance at Lu Tianxing.

"Not talking? No problem. I have plenty of time. Let’s continue."

Lu Tianxing’s lips curled slightly, his fingers moved subtly, True Qi transforming into blades, whistling out once more.

...

Meanwhile, in the villa of Qiu Yingrong.

The figure that silently appeared on the second floor landed on the balcony, gently placing a finger on the glass door of the balcony, giving it a slight shake, breaking the lock, and then quietly opening the glass door.

The figure then turned to glance at the people still fighting downstairs, the corners of his mouth curving into a bloodthirsty smile, giving him an especially grim appearance in the night.

Without any pause, the figure silently moved into the room, quickly closing the glass door of the balcony behind him.

At this moment in the second-floor living room, the lights were as bright as day, and the intruder’s identity became very clear.

The intruder was an old man, dressed in traditional Chinese clothing, with greying hair and a face full of wrinkles, yet without an aged appearance. His eyes were calm like water, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking.

After entering the hall, the old man glanced around before directly heading out of the living room.

In the blink of an eye, the old man exited the living room, looked around, and listened intently for a moment. A cold smile appeared on his face as he briskly strode toward a bedroom.

At the bedroom door, the old man immediately placed his hand on the doorknob and gave it a gentle twist, opening the door without hesitation and walking inside.

Inside the bedroom, Qiu Yingrong, who was just coaxing Lingling to sleep but was disturbed by the noises outside, intended to turn and leave, but upon hearing the door open, instinctively lifted her head to find the old man entering her line of sight.

Seeing the sudden appearance of the old man, combined with the noise outside, Qiu Yingrong’s expression grew serious, particularly thinking of the heated rumors circulating on Qin Island that afternoon, causing a strong sense of foreboding to arise in her heart.

Glancing at Lingling, who was already asleep on the bed, Qiu Yingrong suppressed her unease, looked at the old man, and said in a deep voice, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?"

The old man looked at Qiu Yingrong, his tone very calm, unruffled by events: "Miss Qiu, you’re so intelligent—can’t you guess why I’m here?"

Upon hearing the old man’s calm words, Qiu Yingrong’s expression turned completely grim. She could certainly guess why this old man was here, but guessing and hearing him say it are two different things.

At that moment, a sliver of fear arose in Qiu Yingrong’s heart. She wasn’t afraid to die, but she didn’t want anything to happen to her daughter.

"What exactly do you want?"

Qiu Yingrong took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

"Miss Qiu, don’t resist in vain any longer. Do you think anyone will come to save you now?"

The old man seemed to know what Qiu Yingrong was thinking, saying calmly, "Miss Qiu, if you don’t want anything bad to happen to your daughter, I hope you follow my instructions. If you do as I say, I can assure you that not only will your daughter be safe, but so will you. Otherwise..."

The old man didn’t continue, but the implication was clear.

"Miss Qiu, would you please take your daughter and come with me?"

The old man looked at Qiu Yingrong, his smile slowly turning cold: "I believe you won’t refuse my request, will you?"

As he spoke, the old man didn’t consider Qiu Yingrong to be of any consequence. Although she was a Martial Artist, she was merely a Yellow-level Martial Artist in his eyes, as fragile as an ant, utterly insignificant.

After hearing the old man’s words, Qiu Yingrong’s expression fluctuated. She was smart enough to understand the old man’s meaning. If she dared to play tricks, not only would she be in danger, but Lingling might also fall into peril, something she didn’t want to happen.

"I can go with you, but I hope you’ll spare my daughter, okay?" Qiu Yingrong asked the elder, gritting her teeth.