Chapter 72 Taking Action

Zhao Chu noticed Shen Qingyi’s confusion and explained with a smile, “Aunt Han is my stepmother now.”

Shen Qingyi’s face immediately fell. “She is herself, and I am myself. Next time, don’t randomly claim kinship.”

After she finished speaking, she turned to Lu Yan. “Let’s go!”

Zhao Chu’s gaze lingered on Lu Yan. As a fellow man, he couldn’t help but be stunned—damn, he was captivating. No wonder Aunt Han said the girl married without her consent.

“Brother-in-law, I mean no harm!”

Lu Yan’s eyes grew cold. “Who are you calling brother-in-law?”

Zhao Chu hadn’t expected this guy, who looked so refined, to change his demeanor with just a sentence. Suddenly, he realized this was not someone easy to deal with.

He blocked their way again, smiling ingratiatingly. “I really mean no harm. I just want to be filial, make Aunt Han happy, and show some concern for my sister. She hasn’t had it easy in our Zhao family all these years.”

Lu Yan recalled the grievance his wife had suffered because of Han Lanzhi and his expression grew even colder. “She doesn’t need your concern. Move aside!”

“Don’t… don’t be like that.” He made a gesture behind his back, and soon two men came forward.

Lu Yan immediately became alert, pulling Shen Qingyi behind him. “What are you trying to do?”

“I just want to discuss something with my sister. Could we borrow Uncle Shen’s notebook for my father to read?” Zhao Chu’s ingratiating demeanor vanished, replaced by a hard tone.

“She already told you the day she came—there’s no such thing!” Shen Qingyi exclaimed, agitated.

Her mother was truly over the line. Not satisfied with asking once, she sent her stepson instead. Why? She couldn’t understand.

Lu Yan sensed his wife’s distress and said to Zhao Chu, “Did you hear that? There isn’t one!”

Zhao Chu didn’t believe it at all and tried to push past Lu Yan to get Shen Qingyi alone, but Lu Yan grabbed his collar and shoved him back forcefully. “Get out!”

Zhao Chu staggered several steps before being caught by the two men behind him. It took him a moment to recover—this pretty boy had surprising strength. He looked up and met Lu Yan’s fierce, angry gaze.

Even Shen Qingyi was stunned. Lu Yan actually fought?

Lu Yan stepped forward, looking Zhao Chu in the eye and enunciated, “Let me warn you: if you wish to be filial to Han Lanzhi or your father, that’s your business. But if you try anything with my wife, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

The two men behind Zhao Chu stirred uneasily at his tone. “Young Master Zhao!”

Zhao Chu was angered. He had spent most of his time in Yangcheng and knew nothing of Lu Yan’s status in Beijing—he only knew from Han Lanzhi that he was an old man’s student.

If not for this guy, Han Lanzhi would have already had Shen Qingyi by her side.

He beckoned with his finger, and the two men moved forward to attack.

One swung his fist, but Lu Yan, who had fought since childhood—losing more than winning until he became undefeated after three years—knew exactly how to fight. He intercepted the man’s punch, used his momentum to neutralize it, then twisted it behind his back. The sound of bones turning and a scream rang out simultaneously.

The other man came at him with a fist as well. Lu Yan didn’t dodge nor counter; instead, he kept his grip firm on the first man, then forcefully threw him to the ground, taking a punch himself in the process.

Blood from his nose trickled to the corner of his mouth.

Shen Qingyi’s heart leapt to her throat and she cried out anxiously, “Lu Yan!”

Lu Yan didn’t move. He glanced at the man lying incapacitated on the ground, then dodged another attack by turning his head, stepped closer, and with a quick move grabbed the second man’s collar.

In an instant, the man felt his collar tighten, couldn’t breathe, his head spinning. Just as he was about to turn, a heavy blow landed on his forehead.

He staggered, gasping for air, and finally collapsed to the ground, only managing to sit up after a while.

Zhao Chu stared at Lu Yan in disbelief. This pretty boy… used dirty tricks.

Lu Yan turned to Zhao Chu and beckoned, “Want to try?”

Zhao Chu watched him approach step by step, shaking his head. “No, I won’t.”

“Then get lost!” Lu Yan squeezed the words through clenched teeth, warning, “If my wife suffers again because of your family’s nonsense, don’t blame me for what happens.”

Zhao Chu looked at that refined, handsome face, unable to reconcile it with his actions. He told himself not to be afraid, yet still couldn’t help nodding.

Lu Yan was satisfied. “Leave now!”

Zhao Chu glanced at the two men struggling half-upright, swallowed his tough words, and muttered, “We’re leaving now.”

Shen Qingyi hurried over, concerned. “Are you all right?”

Lu Yan’s expression softened. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

After the couple left, Zhao Chu finally exhaled, angrily berating one of the men, “What happened? You couldn’t handle a pretty boy?”

“He didn’t fight fair. He used dirty tricks. When he had my hand clamped, I couldn’t breathe, got hypoxic, and my head is still spinning.”

“He dislocated my arm,” the other man said, propping himself up with his good hand. “He’s ruthless and precise, and surprisingly strong.”

Zhao Chu had felt it in that shove too and cursed inwardly—damn, this pretty boy…

Back home, under the lights, Shen Qingyi noticed Lu Yan’s nose was bleeding and exclaimed, “Why didn’t you dodge when that guy rushed at you?”

She hurried to the bathroom to grab a wet towel, while Anan and Lu Caiqing quickly came over.

“Daddy, what happened?”

Lu Yan didn’t want Anan to worry. “It’s nothing. I bumped into someone and suddenly got a nosebleed.”

Shen Qingyi brought over a damp towel to press against his nose. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Her mind was in turmoil—angry at her mother, worried about Lu Yan.

Lu Caiqing was calm. “He’ll be fine in a bit. When he was little, he often got nosebleeds fighting. Cold water will do the trick.”

He fought often as a child? Shen Qingyi couldn’t have imagined Lu Yan was so good at it—even witnessing it herself, she still found it hard to believe.

Lu Yan stole a glance at his wife’s anxious expression and smiled, “Really, I’m fine.”

Anan focused on the key point. “Daddy often fought as a kid—did you win or lose?”

Lu Caiqing thought about it. “He probably won. By ninth grade, when he went up the mountain to chop wood or gather pig grass, not a single kid his age dared come within a hundred meters. It was Lu Fan who often got beaten up instead.”

Anan’s eyes shone with admiration. “Daddy’s that amazing?”

Lu Caiqing nodded. “He really is, though he often ended up with bruises and nosebleeds.”

After a while, the bleeding stopped. Lu Yan took off the towel, only then noticing it was Shen Qingyi’s. He got up to wash it, but Shen Qingyi took it from him. As she drew near, she spotted a red mark on his neck.

“Come in, let me put some ointment on you,” Shen Qingyi said softly, carrying the towel into the room.