Volume One, Chapter 54: Forced Marriage!

Following the sound, Jiang Chen lowered his footsteps. The voice was not far from him and was steadily drawing nearer. To avoid being discovered, Jiang Chen sensibly found a patch of grass to crouch down and wait.

Before understanding the situation, the first thing to do was observe. Only after observing should he look for an opportunity to strike, so as to ensure a fatal blow, rather than rushing out blindly and exposing himself to his enemy.

Soon, the owner of the voice entered his line of sight. It was the short, inconspicuous man from their team, whose codename was, if he remembered correctly, "Holt."

Trailing behind him was a mass of blue sludge. It looked as if it had been coated in blue paint, dappled with bright spots like stars, but the granular substances upon it gave a revolting impression.

Holt ran swiftly, but he was no match for the speed of that blue mass. The sludge, like a tentacle, latched onto Holt’s ankle. Holt staggered and was immediately dragged to the ground.

The tentacle formed from the sludge was incredibly strong, pulling Holt over with ease. That mass was no bigger than a human head by sight, yet such a small mound of sludge could restrain a martial artist.

“Don’t… don’t come any closer!” Holt’s eyes, wide behind his mask, brimmed with terror. His fear kept growing, and no amount of struggling availed him. The sludge seemed to sap all strength from his body.

Facing this unknown horror, Holt drew a broken blade from his boot and slashed frantically at the blue sludge.

But it was utterly useless. The wounds he made in the blue sludge closed up as if liquid, then the mass continued to spread, creeping from his ankles to his face, and soon enveloped his entire body.

Jiang Chen sighed, feeling a pang of pity. Out in the world, each man’s fate is his own. He rose to leave, but just after the blue sludge had consumed Holt, the mass began to swell and bubble.

Gurgle—

Gurgle—

As blood bubbles burst within the blue sludge, the shapeless mound slowly gathered itself, rising upward and gradually forming a human shape. Its limbs and features began to take shape, as if a clay figure were being crafted by the hand of a master sculptor.

And the clay figure’s face was that of Holt, who had just died.

This creature not only possessed astonishing control, but it could also absorb the dead to increase its strength, and it had mimicking abilities, able to recreate the appearance of its victim.

Realizing things were taking a dire turn, Jiang Chen quietly withdrew from the grass. He made no sound—this was not the time for recklessness. His goal was to find his senior sister; nothing and no one else mattered.

That blue sludge was a strange entity, likely unique to this secret realm. Now that it had become "Holt," it would be trouble if he ran into it again.

...

Ning Corporation’s headquarters. Ye Qiang and Ye Qingfeng sat on the sofa, sipping tea with composed expressions.

Ning Que, the chairman, looked far from pleased.

“Ning, have you made up your mind? When do you plan to hold the engagement banquet?” Ye Qiang asked.

Ning Que frowned. “Brother Ye, isn’t this a bit underhanded? Shouldn’t matters between the two of them be left to themselves? Besides, my daughter has made it clear she doesn’t like Qingfeng. Do you really want to force this?”

Ye Qiang quickly waved his hand. “Oh, don’t say that! Look at you. Our two families are about to become in-laws. Besides, didn’t they have a childhood betrothal? Strengthening the bond can only be good.”

Strengthening the bond—how easily said. Ning Que, after years at the helm of his company, was not so naïve. He knew exactly what Ye Qiang was after: to swallow up Ning Corporation after the marriage and merge it with his own Shanshui Group, thus making Shanshui the largest conglomerate in Qing City.

Ignoring Ye Qiang, Ning Que turned to Ye Qingfeng. “Qingfeng, you know there’s no affection between you and Rourou. Two people without feelings can hardly last. Forced unions only bring misery.”

Ye Qingfeng was ready for this argument. He replied at once, “Uncle, affection can be cultivated after marriage. Even if we’re not suited, we can make it work. Besides, a melon forcibly picked may not be sweet, but it can still quench thirst!”

Father and son exchanged a knowing smile. Ning Que slammed the table and stood up. “Enough! What if I refuse to marry my daughter to your family?”

The smile vanished from Ye Qiang’s face. Interlocking his fingers and resting them on his knees, he said, “Then the Ning family will be wiped out.”

Wiped out.

The words fell from his lips without a thought—unyielding, overwhelming.

With a wave of his hand, a figure behind Ye Qiang flashed before Ning Que and struck with a palm.

In the next instant, a figure appeared in front of Ning Que as well, meeting the blow with a palm of his own.

The force of the collision sent papers flying from the table, and drops of fresh blood spattered across the white sheets.

Ning Que’s protector collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

“Ah, Brother Ning, who still uses bodyguards at the True Qi stage? That’s long outdated,” Ye Qiang shook his head, lit a cigarette, and exhaled a plume of smoke. “Three days. Either hold the engagement, or the Ning family will be erased from Qing City.”

After the two men left, Ning Que slumped to the floor as if all strength had left him.

“This is outrageous! Outrageous!”

“Dad, what happened…” Ning Rou, just arrived from the branch office, saw the scene and felt as if a knife had pierced her heart.

Wiping his tears, Ning Que said wearily, “It’s my fault, I can’t let you live the life you want. I’m sorry, my child.”

At the door, the secretary read the latest notices in a grave tone:

“Chairman, Ye Qiang—the chairman of Shanshui Group—has announced an acquisition of our shares.”

“Chairman, Shanshui Group has halted all cooperation, saying it will be renegotiated.”

“Chairman, our financing deal has been intercepted by Shanshui Group.”

Three blows in succession left Ning Que, only forty-eight, aged decades in an instant.

Ning Rou knelt to pick up the scattered documents, each sheet seeming to weigh a thousand pounds.

“Dad… I’ll marry…”