Volume One, Chapter 72: Huo Mingting, Let's Have a Fight

Ye Sheng was quite familiar with the layout of the Huo residence—after all, she had lived there for three years. The dressing room was right next to the bedroom on the second floor. Grabbing Huo Shuting by the hair, Ye Sheng dragged her inside; she kept a firm hand over her mouth, fearing that her piglike shrieks would frighten the children.

Huo Shuting wore her hair long. She prided herself on her looks, making regular appointments at the salon for professional care, treating every strand with meticulous attention. Now, Ye Sheng’s grip made her scalp throb with pain. Enraged, Huo Shuting raked her manicured nails across Ye Sheng’s hand, leaving three bloody welts.

Blood welled instantly on Ye Sheng’s pale hand, but she showed no mercy. Tilting Huo Shuting’s chin up, she slapped her hard, then again with a backhanded swing.

Huo Shuting’s screams blended together, her curses flying as she hurled vulgarities at Ye Sheng. In that moment, the elegant socialite was indistinguishable from a common shrew.

Ye Sheng had tolerated her for long enough. Huo Shuting had always been sharp-tongued and spiteful. In the past, Ye Sheng endured it for the sake of family harmony—after all, Huo Shuting was Huo Mingtian’s sister, and Ye Sheng had been unwilling to stoop to the same level. But now, even Huo Mingtian meant nothing to her, let alone Huo Shuting.

Opening the wardrobe, Ye Sheng unerringly found where Huo Mingtian kept his ties and belts. She grabbed a belt to bind Huo Shuting’s hands and used a tie to gag her mouth.

She seized the telescopic clothes rod from the corner and began striking Huo Shuting’s palms, taking on the air of a stern school disciplinarian.

“Which hand threw the hat? Hold it out,” she demanded.

To Huo Shuting, the humiliation was beyond words. She whimpered, drool soaking the tie and running down her chin in disgrace.

The instant Huo Mingtian opened the door, he was dumbfounded.

He saw his sister, hands bound, hopping and spinning in place like a rabbit, but no matter how she tried to dodge, the long rod in Ye Sheng’s hand landed with unerring accuracy on her hands and backside.

The scene was almost comical, reminiscent of the Buddha disciplining the Monkey King—no matter how the monkey jumped, he could not escape the Buddha’s palm.

“My god, Shuting!” Madam Huo rushed up at the commotion, only to be met with the sight of her daughter being beaten. Her vision went dark, and she nearly fainted from rage.

She shoved Huo Mingtian aside and shouted, “Ye Sheng, stop this instant!”

Sensing things were getting out of hand, Huo Mingtian quickly pushed his mother out, saying he would handle it, then locked the dressing room door behind him.

Any more of this, and there would truly be a world war.

“All right, that’s enough.” Huo Mingtian stepped forward and rescued Huo Shuting, who was now reduced to a sobbing mess, hurting everywhere.

Seeing his sister in such a pitiful state, Huo Mingtian felt both sympathy and the urge to laugh. Still, he shielded her.

He untied her and looked at Ye Sheng with a hint of reproach. “You know martial arts. She’s delicate—how could she withstand your beating?”

Huo Shuting blinked away her tears. Martial arts? Who knew martial arts?

She looked up at Ye Sheng in disbelief, momentarily forgetting to cry. Did Ye Sheng really know martial arts?

Ye Sheng, still seething, raised a cold eyebrow at Huo Mingtian. “You’re strong. Why don’t you take her place?”

She tossed aside the rod and rose from the sofa.

Huo Shuting, cowed by the beating, instinctively hid behind her brother, pulling the tie from her mouth and wailing, “Brother, hit her for me! Beat her to death—avenge me!”

The word “death” struck a nerve in Ye Sheng. She shot a cold look at Huo Shuting, making her instantly fall silent.

In Ye Sheng’s eyes, Huo Shuting caught a glimpse of murderous intent.

Huo Mingtian sensed it too. Ye Sheng’s presence was icy cold, like a wraith crawling out of hell—ferocious, utterly devoid of warmth.

He gave Huo Shuting a gentle push and said sternly, “You go out first.”

Suddenly, Huo Shuting felt a little afraid and dared not protest further. She slipped out of the dressing room. Seeing her daughter’s battered state, Madam Huo frowned deeply, nearly bursting with anger.

“Mom, don’t go in yet,” Huo Shuting said quietly, sensing something was off. “Ye Sheng has changed.”

Madam Huo was taken aback. “Changed? In what way?”

“She’s gone mad—she’s terrifying,” Huo Shuting whispered, just as Huo Cong appeared at the door, his little face pale. “Who are you calling mad?”

—

Inside the dressing room, Huo Mingtian picked up the rod from the floor.

“Shuting was out of line, but you shouldn’t have hit her—much less with a steel rod. Were you trying to kill her?”

Ye Sheng regarded him coolly, then suddenly smiled. “I wasn’t the one after her life—it’s your family that’s after mine. Huo Mingtian, does it disappoint you that I’m still alive?”

Their eyes met. Though she smiled, there wasn’t a trace of warmth in her gaze.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded, frowning.

Ye Sheng glanced at the bloody scratches on her hand. “I disciplined her not just because she threw away the hat I knitted, but because she’s been sowing discord between me and Cong’er. She’s the reason my own son and I became estranged.”

She fixed Huo Mingtian with a cold, fathomless stare. “You, of all people, should know why Cong’er and I have ended up like this. Your mother and your sister have played no small part.”

Huo Mingtian’s face darkened abruptly.

“Ye Sheng! If you failed as a mother, you have no right to blame your elders. You’re out of line.”

“Out of line?” Ye Sheng let out a mirthless laugh. “Fine, let’s say I am. Are you going to avenge your sister—beat me to death, as she said?”

She stood there, fearless and unyielding.

“Go ahead. Let’s fight.”

Huo Mingtian’s brow furrowed tightly. She really had lost her mind. How could he possibly fight her?

Ye Sheng’s tone was cool. “We’re no longer married, so it wouldn’t count as domestic violence.”

One sentence, and she hit a nerve.

Huo Mingtian’s face turned icy cold, his gaze plunging into frozen depths.

He pressed his lips together, about to retort, when there came a hurried knock at the dressing room door. The butler’s voice sounded, urgent: “Young Master, Young Madam—please, don’t argue… Ninth Master is here!”

Ninth Master?

Ye Sheng and Huo Mingtian turned at the same time, both their expressions changing.