59

"Kid, come on—don't cry when it hurts!" Zhou Hongjun's mocking grin widened, eyeing Zhengyang's lean frame. He held no love for the Leis, and this chance to humiliate the uncle-nephew duo was too good to pass up. Today, he'd make them lose face clear across the Pacific.

Zhengyang glanced at Zhou and the six burly soldiers behind him, chuckling softly. "Ready? Then I won't hold back."

His voice was gentle, almost delicate, but in a flash, he moved—lightning-fast, too quick for eyes to follow. The soldiers flanking him barely blinked before he'd surged five or six meters, launching a ferocious assault. Zhou, the prime target, was no pushover. His special training and hulking 1.8-meter build made him a force to be reckoned with.

Zhou's fist, heavy as a hammer, swung to meet Zhengyang's speed. Speed was nothing without power—mere flash, no substance. He wasn't worried. But that confidence cost him dearly.

Zhengyang wasn't just fast—his strength was monstrous. Against a brute like Zhou, finesse wouldn't do; raw power was the only language he'd respect. Zhengyang aimed to teach him a lesson: there's always a bigger fish. His fist met Zhou's, and the impact numbed Zhou's arm. A gust-like force shoved him back a dozen steps, crashing him to the ground with a thud. He couldn't rise. Nearby, agonized groans rang out—the six soldiers, expecting a show, were casually dispatched, clutching arms and legs in pain.

"Lei brat, don't get cocky!" Zhou, fueled by stubborn grit, leaped up, unwilling to lose face. But Zhengyang was faster. Before Zhou landed, a kick slammed his chest, the force seeping into his lungs, bending him like a shrimp. Another kick struck his abdomen. Despite Zhou's battle-hardened frame, he howled in agony.

Sent flying, Zhou took a final blow—Zhengyang's palms clapped his face, birthing a pair of panda eyes. He hit the dirt, struggling to stand, swaying, head spinning, unable to tell north from south.

"Hey, Zhou Hongjun, I'm over here!" Lei Qiuping crowed, pain forgotten, swagger restored. "What're you looking at? How's that for a beating? Need another round?" Taunting his rival, he reveled in Zhou's misery.

The soldiers, barely standing, propped Zhou up. They'd lost before they could react, their leader powerless. Fear crept into their eyes as they faced Zhengyang. Zhou, battered in body and spirit, rubbed his head, regaining clarity. Glaring at Zhengyang and the smug Qiuping, he spat, "Lei Qiuping, you win this time. I'll be back."

He knew he was outmatched. Every inch ached, and he couldn't fathom how the Lei's "wastrel" Third Young Master had become so formidable.

"We won! We won!" Qiuping's troops, seeing Zhou's proud entrance and defeated exit, swarmed him, roaring with joy. Beating Zhou's crew was rare, and though Zhengyang fought, he was family—close enough.

Wu Xiaomin watched, a chill in her heart. Others might miss it, but she didn't: the Lei Third Young Master, branded a useless playboy, was a hidden master. Those moves—few in the military could match. She knew Zhou's skill; even she'd struggle to beat him so easily. Lei Zhengyang was no ordinary man. With the Lei family's genes, mediocrity was impossible.

Qiuping, buzzing with excitement, approached Wu, hesitating. "Instructor Wu, you said if I won a spar, you'd dine with me. You won't back out this time, right?"

"You won?" Wu scoffed, eyeing his smug grin. "Fine, I keep my word. Six tonight." She wasn't eager for a date—single but not desperate at her age. But Zhengyang piqued her curiosity, and Qiuping was her way to learn more. Compared to her other suitors, he was… tolerable.

Zhengyang strolled over, catching her words. "Third Uncle, please, stop losing fights and crying to family for help. It's embarrassing. Mom says that's kid stuff. Next time, don't call me—I'm busy." He paused, grinning. "But if you win Instructor Wu's heart, I'll help a few more times."

Most women would blush, but Wu extended her hand, unfazed. "Wu Xiaomin, new instructor at Compound Five. You're Lei Zhengyang, right? Heard you're a real jerk. Today, I see rumors are garbage."

Blunt and fearless, she spoke her mind. Zhengyang laughed. "I am a jerk. Chasing beauties is my hobby. If you've got a pretty sister, keep her away—I might not resist."

"Men chasing women? Normal," Wu said. "If your uncle catches me, I'd be his Third Aunt. But he's gotta beat me first." Her terms were wild, and Qiuping sweated. Wu, the district's "Female Tyrannosaurus," was a beast in combat—few could take her.

Zhengyang smirked. "Easy. Third Uncle, follow my lead, and you'll have her in three months."

"Xiaomin, you mean it? No takebacks!" Qiuping pounced, already dropping formalities.

"When has Wu Xiaomin ever reneged?" she shot back. "Three months to beat me, and I'm yours." Bold as brass, her challenge stunned Zhengyang, but Qiuping was ecstatic. "Deal! Three months, I'll crush you!"

His fervor turned sleazy as he faced Zhengyang. "Zhengyang, my happiness is in your hands. You've gotta help me."

Zhengyang chuckled, walking off. "Go on your date. Find me after. Three months—plenty." For his uncle's bliss, some tough love was in order.

Back home, the family was gathered, Xu Miaoli regaling them, likely about the apprenticeship. Her radiant smile showed her glee. Seeing Zhengyang, Patriarch Yunbao asked, "Zhengyang, what happened with your Third Uncle?"

Zhengyang grinned. "Good news: Third Uncle's spring has sprung. He's smitten. Anyone know a Wu Xiaomin?"

"Wu Xiaomin?" Yunbao jolted. "The Wu family's Female Tyrannosaurus?"

Her notoriety reached even the patriarch. Yunbao looked uneasy. "Let's hope it's not her. I'm worried, old as I am. They say she even beat her own father—fierce woman."

Zhengyang laughed. His future Third Aunt wasn't just tough—she was a legend, thrashing her own dad. A true powerhouse!