The jealousy and rage that had been festering within Shang Wen finally erupted. Fueled by the lies his so-called friends had whispered into his ear, he stormed toward Shang Xuan, who was passing with his two maids, demanding a duel. His voice shook with frustration as he called out to the Third Young Master.

  "Shang Xuan!" Shang Wen spat, his eyes bloodshot from anger and alcohol. "I challenge you to a duel! Bet your maids—Lianhua and Meihua! Let's see if you're man enough to keep them!"

  Shang Xuan turned to look at him, his expression a mixture of mild confusion and annoyance. He had been going about his business when this idiot stormed in with such an absurd proposal. Betting two A-grade aptitude maids? Shang Xuan stared at him blankly. What does this fool have to offer in return? The answer was simple—nothing. Shang Wen was being stupid, and Shang Xuan had no interest in entertaining such nonsense.

  "You want me to bet two A-grade aptitudes?" Shang Xuan said, his voice cold. "And what do you have of equal value to offer, Shang Wen? Your idiocy?"

  Ignoring Shang Wen seemed like the best course of action. The man was clearly drunk and blinded by lust and jealousy. But Shang Wen's stubbornness only deepened, his mind clouded with images of humiliating Shang Xuan in front of the twins, showing them how much better he was.

  In a fit of irrational rage, Shang Wen rushed toward Shang Xuan, hoping to physically confront him. But Shang Xuan was more than prepared. His mother and her 10 shadow guards had trained him in martial arts from a young age. One of those guards, an expert in the Strength Path and martial combat, had drilled into him the skills of close-quarter battle.

  As Shang Wen lunged at him, his form sloppy and fueled by rage, Shang Xuan's eyes narrowed in disdain. He sidestepped the attack effortlessly, his movements smooth and precise. Shang Wen stumbled forward, off-balance, his wild swing missing by a wide margin. Before Shang Wen could regain his footing, Shang Xuan acted.

  With a single, swift motion, Shang Xuan's fist shot forward, slamming into Shang Wen's chest. The impact was hard and sharp, sending Shang Wen staggering backward. A loud gasp escaped Shang Wen as he clutched his ribs, struggling to breathe. His body trembled from the blow, but Shang Xuan was far from done.

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  Shang Xuan stepped forward, his movements precise and measured. He dodged another desperate swing from Shang Wen, his hand lashing out to grab Shang Wen's arm. With a calculated twist, he dislocated it with an audible crack. Shang Wen screamed in pain, but his cry was cut short as Shang Xuan drove his knee into Shang Wen's stomach, causing him to double over and collapse onto the ground.

  "You dare challenge me?" Shang Xuan muttered, his voice calm but menacing.

  Shang Wen groaned in agony, trying to crawl away, but Shang Xuan was relentless. He grabbed Shang Wen by the collar and pulled him up, slamming his fist into his face with brutal precision. Blood splattered across the courtyard as Shang Wen's nose broke from the blow, his head snapping back violently.

  Shang Xuan released Shang Wen, letting him fall to the ground. But Shang Wen's suffering wasn't over. Shang Xuan's boot came down hard on his chest, pressing him into the dirt. Shang Wen coughed, blood spilling from his mouth as he tried to push Shang Xuan off, but it was no use.

  "You thought you could humiliate me?" Shang Xuan's voice was cold as he lifted his foot and brought it down on Shang Wen's face, delivering a sharp kick. Shang Wen's head snapped to the side, his body limp as he lay there, blood pooling beneath him.

  The other young masters in the courtyard watched in silence, none daring to intervene. Shang Wen lay broken, his face swollen and disfigured from the beating. His pride and arrogance had led him here, and Shang Xuan had crushed him without mercy.

  All the while, Lianhua and Meihua stood by, completely unphased by the scene. Lianhua, ever the cold beauty, remained expressionless, her eyes calm and distant as she watched Shang Wen writhe in pain. Meihua, on the other hand, could barely contain her excitement. She watched Shang Xuan with an almost feverish intensity, her eyes gleaming with infatuation. Seeing him dominate his opponent so effortlessly stirred something deep inside her. Her heart raced as she longed to show him her admiration, to express her desire right then and there.

  Ever since they were young, Meihua had always felt this way—drawn to Shang Xuan's strength, his protective nature. She and her sister had no family aside from him. He wasn't just their lover; he was their world. And now, watching him humiliate someone who had dared challenge their bond, she wanted nothing more than to kiss him deeply, to throw herself into his arms.

  As Shang Wen's cries of pain filled the air, his so-called friends began to act, jumping up and shouting accusations at Shang Xuan. "How can you do this to him? He didn't deserve this kind of treatment!" they yelled, hoping to draw attention and make themselves appear loyal. But inwardly, they were smiling, satisfied that their plan to incite a confrontation had succeeded.