Chapter Sixty-Two: Yang Feng Is Dead!

"You little brat, how dare you!" Old Han’s fury could have ignited the room, though sadly, it was not for the sake of a beauty. Han Caixuan simply stood behind Qin Yang, her meaning clear: if anyone dared hurt her son, his mother behind him would show no mercy. Qin Yang sneered at Old Han and said, "If I dare to imagine it, I dare to do it."

"Just try it!"

"Fine, I will!"

"If you dare, I’ll fight you with my life!"

"Don’t bluff. You’re no match for me."

Their argument grew more heated, both rolling up their sleeves, ready to come to blows. Huang Zequn and Guo Yang hurried to intervene, stopping Qin Yang: "Don’t fight, don’t fight." Several other elders stepped forward to persuade Old Han as well. The two finally snorted at each other and backed down. Qin Yang glanced around, spat on the floor, and said, "Old Han, let’s wait and see. I, Qin Yang, have my pride. Since I said it in public, I’ll do it. Fight with me? When I was swinging a watermelon knife, you’d only be poking at people with a needle."

With that, Qin Yang took Liu Molan by the hand and left. Qi Mengwei, standing to the side, wanted to follow but stopped in frustration and sighed. When the elevator descended, her eyes grew vacant, and she entered another elevator alone.

Han Caixuan looked around and signaled to Liu Yan, who nodded, then sent her disabled subordinates to the hospital. Addressing the crowd, Liu Yan said, "Perhaps there was some unpleasant friction earlier—I hope everyone won’t take it to heart. Fortunately, the drinks at our banquet weren’t affected, so please continue to enjoy the evening."

Meanwhile, Qin Yang and Liu Molan left the hotel. Seeing Liu Molan shivering in the cold wind, he took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. "What a farce," he remarked.

"You—you make trouble wherever you go," Liu Molan said with a laugh, giving him a gentle push. But then her expression turned troubled. "This time you really went overboard. Will it—?"

"Old Han has things on me, but does he dare? If I didn’t still find him tolerable, tonight wouldn’t have ended so simply," Qin Yang replied coldly. "It’s late. Let’s return to the hotel. Once the contract business is done, we’ll head back to Haitian City."

"Alright."

Back at the hotel, Liu Molan, exhausted, went to rest. Qin Yang, intending to smoke a cigarette on the balcony, received a call from Huang Zequn.

"Old Qin, something terrible happened. Someone died at the banquet," Huang Zequn said in a panic.

"How is one death so terrible?" Qin Yang frowned. "Was it illness or something else?"

"It’s Yang Feng—he died for no reason," Huang Zequn replied, headache evident in his voice. "Most crucially, he died in the elevator. At the time, only Qi Mengwei was inside with him, so people suspect she killed him. Now Qi Mengwei is mentally unstable, almost insane—"

"I’m on my way."

Realizing things had spiraled beyond expectation, Qin Yang hung up, didn’t even alert Liu Molan, and swiftly commandeered a car from one of Boss Cao’s men at the hotel. The number of reporters outside had dwindled; only a few remained. Occasionally, a person with the air of a police officer entered in haste, but the reporters seemed unaware of the incident within.

Qin Yang rushed inside, called Huang Zequn, and went up to the thirty-second floor, where Yang Feng’s death had been discovered. The elevator entrance was sealed. Qin Yang could only go to the thirty-first floor and climb the stairs. As he reached the thirty-second, two men barred his way: "Sorry, this floor is temporarily closed to outsiders."

"Move." Qin Yang waved them aside, pushing past, and though they tried to resist, Guo Yang intervened.

"What happened?" Qin Yang asked.

Guo Yang sighed. "After you left, Qi Mengwei got into the elevator. Yang Feng followed her. Not long after, we heard a scream. We rushed here and found Yang Feng dead in the elevator. Police arrived quickly. Everyone who knows is here, and the news has been contained. But with Yang Feng dead, trouble is brewing for us."

Qin Yang glanced around. Only four or five people were present: his mother, Old Han, Guo Yang, Huang Zequn, and Liu Yan. Qi Mengwei crouched in the corner, trembling, face pale, eyes vacant, as if driven mad. Yang Feng’s corpse lay at the elevator entrance, without a mark on him.

"Did you check the surveillance?" Qin Yang asked.

Guo Yang gave a bitter smile. "The footage was cut long ago. We have no idea what happened in those few minutes."

"Steward, absorb Yang Feng’s soul," Qin Yang ordered in his mind.

The steward was swift; within moments, a black wraith appeared in Qin Yang’s spirit vision, sucked into hell. "Reading memories requires ninety-five soul points," the steward reported. "Yang Feng was at a peak first level."

"Read them," Qin Yang commanded, but as he glanced at Qi Mengwei in the elevator, a pang of heartache struck him. "Wait a moment," he said.

Walking past Guo Yang, Qin Yang saw Old Han examining the corpse, his face grave. Huang Zequn gave Qin Yang a meaningful look. Qin Yang nodded. Some police officers wanted to bar his way, but Old Han waved them off. "Let him in."

These officers knew Old Han’s influence and did not dare stop Qin Yang.

"Brat, look at this. Yang Feng’s death is utterly mysterious. The only injury is some trauma to his nether regions—no sign of poisoning," Old Han said grimly. "Any thoughts?"

"None," Qin Yang replied, shaking his head. He walked over to Qi Mengwei and said softly, "Don’t be afraid. I’m here."

Yet Qi Mengwei seemed terrified of him, desperately trying to shrink away. Old Han hurried to intervene. "Don’t touch her. Her mind has suffered a severe shock. Any further agitation could cause a complete breakdown. That would be truly troublesome."

Qin Yang gritted his teeth and stepped back cautiously. Only then did Qi Mengwei calm and resume trembling in the corner.

"Damn it—Steward, read the memories," he muttered.

In a flash, scenes flooded his mind: Yang Feng’s entire life, including the plot with Liu Xi to frame Qin Yang, vividly clear. There were also scenes of Yang Feng meeting with strangers to conspire against Qin Yang, but Qin Yang skipped over those and focused on the final moments.

In the elevator.

Qi Mengwei’s face was pale, tears shimmering in her eyes. Yang Feng burst in, furious. "Qi Mengwei, is that good-for-nothing all you care about? He’s not dead, but has he changed? Am I still less than that waste in your heart?"

"He’s not what you think," Qi Mengwei flared. "He’s bad, but he’s simple—so pure it hurts to see. Yang Feng, was it you who lured Qin Yang into racing, intending to kill him?"

"Hmph. People like him are a waste of food," Yang Feng replied coldly, not bothering to deny it. "Qi Mengwei, I’m telling you, he won’t survive. Even if he got lucky this time, he’ll die sooner or later."

"Bastard!"

A quarrel broke out. In the heat of the moment, Qi Mengwei’s knee struck his groin. Yet almost instantly, Yang Feng collapsed and died. The memory ended there.

"Such a baffling death," Qin Yang thought, frowning.

"If you want to understand, you can spend a hundred soul points to experience Yang Feng’s last three minutes physically," the steward suggested. "It’s a function of hell, but I always considered it useless and never mentioned it."

"Nonsense. Who would waste soul points to experience death?" Qin Yang scolded.

Meanwhile, Old Han could make nothing of it either. "Take the body back for further examination," he said.

"What about this woman?" a police officer asked, glancing helplessly at Qi Mengwei. "Given the scene, we can initially conclude that Liu Molan accidentally killed him, but her condition is unstable."

"Give her a sedative," Old Han said. "Her mind is stretched to the limit. If this continues, disaster is inevitable."

"I’ll go to the hospital with her," Qin Yang interjected, frowning.

No one objected. Soon, a doctor arrived with a sedative, but the moment they approached Qi Mengwei, she reacted violently. The doctors, intimidated by Qin Yang’s fierce gaze, dared not act forcefully and could only smile wryly. Han Caixuan came over, patted her son’s shoulder, and said, "You do it yourself."

Qin Yang nodded, took the syringe from the doctor, and approached Qi Mengwei gently. Seeing her delicate, frightened face, he said softly, "It’s me, Qin Yang. Don’t be afraid, alright?"

"Stay back! Stay away!" Qi Mengwei flailed her arms in panic.

Qin Yang ignored her resistance. "Don’t be scared. I’m here. You’re safe."

It was as if his words held a magic power over her—she gradually calmed. When Qin Yang took her arm, she didn’t react as violently. Seizing the moment, Qin Yang administered the sedative. Soon, Qi Mengwei drifted into sleep in his arms, peaceful at last.

Seeing the matter resolved, Liu Yan said, "Send Yang Feng out discreetly and notify his family, but don’t alert the reporters. Qin Yang, be careful—there’s more to this than meets the eye. I don’t believe Qi Mengwei could kill Yang Feng alone. There must be something else."

Qin Yang glanced at Liu Yan in slight surprise, then nodded.