Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Noble Do Not Hold Grudges Against the Petty

“Don’t even think about it. I’ll never agree to this,” Lin Wanting said angrily, unable to believe how audacious this man was.

She was the heiress of the prestigious Lin Group, and Wen Bin was merely trying to use this situation to seize the company.

“Heh, that’s not up to you,” Wen Bin sneered, his gaze full of contempt. “You’d better behave yourself, or I have plenty of ways to make you submit. I’ve got all the time in the world to wear you down.”

Lin Wanting glared at Wen Bin, gritting her teeth, but she was powerless. Alone, she was no match for Wen Bin and his men and could only choose to compromise.

Just then, her phone suddenly rang. Wen Bin glanced at the caller ID—Qin Feng—and laughed.

“Wanting, your little pretty boy is calling, but don’t worry, he won’t be coming back,” he said, then answered the call.

“Hello, Qin Feng. I’ll give you an address. Come here yourself, or I’ll kill Lin Wanting right now!” With that, Wen Bin hung up and immediately recited an address.

“Qin Feng!” Lin Wanting cried anxiously, trying to break out of the encirclement, but Wen Bin was prepared. He seized her delicate neck.

Lin Wanting struggled desperately, but it was futile.

About half an hour later, two cars raced over, stopping at the location Wen Bin had specified. Wen Bin opened the car door and jumped out, watching Qin Feng approach with a triumphant, sinister smile.

He had intentionally given a wrong address to delay, knowing it was a trap, but Qin Feng had come anyway, undeterred.

“Qin Feng, I’ve been waiting for you a long time. I told you—it’s time we settle things between us,” Wen Bin said, his fists clenched, each word pronounced with icy resolve.

“President Wen, we meet again. You really are impatient for death,” Qin Feng replied, his expression calm, as if Wen Bin’s threats didn’t exist.

“You…” Wen Bin was furious. This guy was so arrogant—challenging him openly in front of his men.

Yet Wen Bin also knew Qin Feng had reason to be arrogant. Qin Feng was once a renowned figure in Southeast City, rumored to have a deep, mysterious background. But now he was like a stray dog, and no matter how formidable he once was, this was Myanmar.

Here, Wen Bin had more than a dozen armed men, while Qin Feng was alone. How could he possibly rescue Lin Wanting?

“Cut the nonsense, Qin Feng. I don’t care how impressive you used to be. Now, you’re going to kneel and beg me for mercy—or next year today will be your death anniversary,” Wen Bin spat viciously.

He’d already decided: once Qin Feng was dealt with, he’d immediately take Lin Wanting back to China, lest anything go wrong.

“I think the death anniversary will be yours, not mine,” Qin Feng replied, a devilish smile curling at his lips as he stepped toward Wen Bin.

With each step closer, the air seemed to grow colder. Wen Bin’s face changed, his heart pounding wildly—a fear that came from deep within his soul.

Instinctively, Wen Bin stepped back, staring at Qin Feng in horror. In that moment, he sensed real danger.

“Idiots, what are you waiting for? Kill him! If anything goes wrong, it’s on me,” Wen Bin shouted.

At his command, several men in black drew their guns and aimed at Qin Feng. They were hired at great expense, and if they failed, they’d pay the price.

But they didn’t fire; instead, their guns were trained on Qin Feng’s head.

“You think these pathetic guns can scare me?” Qin Feng sneered, advancing without fear.

“You’re asking for death!” one of the men snarled, unleashing a powerful kick at Qin Feng’s chest.

Bang!

Qin Feng lashed out with his own kick, meeting the attack head-on. The force sent the man in black staggering several steps back, his leg trembling uncontrollably as he clutched it in pain, sweat pouring down his forehead.

The other three men quickly drew their pistols, aiming them at Qin Feng.

“You really think these toys can intimidate me?” Qin Feng shook his head.

“Damn it!” the remaining men cursed, raising their guns and pulling the triggers in unison. A hail of bullets screamed toward Qin Feng.

Yet Qin Feng stood firm, his eyes flashing with a chilling cold light.

To be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure he could dodge the bullets, but he could watch for the exact moment they pulled the trigger.

Pop!

One after another, Qin Feng dodged the bullets with astonishing precision. They whizzed past him, striking the ground and kicking up clouds of dust—a spectacular sight.

Hiss!

Seeing this, Wen Bin gasped, his face awash with terror. This was unbelievable—how could anyone dodge all those bullets?

And this was only the beginning. The next scene was even more astonishing.

Qin Feng’s figure twisted left and right, ghostlike, weaving between the bullets with lightning speed—his movements almost invisible to the naked eye.

In the blink of an eye, five or six bullets were evaded by Qin Feng.

It was far beyond human limits.

Holy hell!

The last four men stared in disbelief, trembling from head to toe.

Now they understood why their young master was so determined to kill Qin Feng.

“What are you idiots standing around for? Keep shooting! Whoever kills him first gets a million!” Wen Bin screamed frantically.

But before anyone could react, five or six men had already fallen to the ground.

“Damn!” Wen Bin shuddered and turned to flee.

But Qin Feng was far faster. With a swift motion, Qin Feng appeared behind Wen Bin, grabbing him by the collar.

Crack!

Wen Bin cried out miserably as he was hoisted into the air.

“Don’t… don’t kill me! If I die, my men will kill Lin Wanting immediately!” Wen Bin pleaded in terror.

Qin Feng frowned, pondering briefly, then released Wen Bin’s collar.

Qin Feng narrowed his eyes at Wen Bin. “Take me to Lin Wanting now, or I’ll make you wish you were dead.”

“No! Please don’t—I’ll take you there,” Wen Bin stammered, his face white with fear.

Qin Feng was a changed man, radiating murderous intent. Wen Bin had no doubt he’d be killed if he resisted.

Though greedy and petty, Wen Bin was no fool. Compared to money, his life was worth more.

“Move,” Qin Feng ordered coldly, striding toward the exit.

Wen Bin hurried after him, not daring to hesitate.