Chapter Sixty-Six: Do You Believe I Can Kill With a Single Punch?

Oh, I wondered who it was—turns out the bastard has come back?”
A voice that Qin Mu was not unfamiliar with drifted over.
He glanced toward the door and saw two elegantly dressed young people, a man and a woman, both three or four years older than him.
The woman was Jiang Yao, cousin to Jiang Zhen.
Standing beside her was her boyfriend, Tan Song.
“I thought you’d died out there somewhere, you bastard. So you’re still alive.” The older Jiang Yao took off her sunglasses and sneered at Qin Mu.
“Why are you cleaning as soon as you get back? Don’t tell me you’ve been hired as a janitor?”
Jiang Yao uttered a few lines, then seemed to remember something. “Oh right, it’s your uncle’s turn to clean the ancestral house this year. But if Uncle had to send someone, it should have been Jiang Zhen, not you. Letting you clean is a stain on the ancestral house.”
Her expression was undisguised in its revulsion, as if merely sharing space with Qin Mu made her nauseous and insulted her status.
“Yao Yao, who’s this?”
Tan Song, standing beside her, smiled warmly, though his eyes kept flicking toward Qin Mu.
At first glance, Qin Mu was dressed in unrecognizable casual brands; apart from his sturdy build, there was nothing remarkable about him.
Jiang Yao waved her hand dismissively. “He’s the bastard I told you about before, picked out of some garbage bin by Uncle’s family. Filthy as hell.”
“Last New Year, he tried to sit at our family table, but ended up clutching a bowl of plain rice and was thrown out by the old man. He looked just like a stray dog! Hahaha!”
She laughed as if recalling a childhood anecdote, covering her mouth to stifle her giggles.
Tan Song gave Qin Mu a once-over and commented, “Indeed, a bastard is a bastard. Looks like some uncouth brute—only fit for sweeping floors. He’s leagues apart from the rest of us, raised with elite education and proper manners.”
“Is your so-called manners just standing at the door yelling like a pair of shrews?”
Qin Mu replied calmly, continuing to sweep the corridor without haste.
He remained unruffled. He’d heard such mockery countless times ten years ago, and even then it had gone in one ear and out the other; now, he couldn’t even be bothered to respond.

But his remark visibly enraged Jiang Yao.
“You little bastard, you dare talk back?!”
She tugged at Tan Song, wanting her boyfriend to step forward and teach Qin Mu some respect.
Tan Song stood over six feet tall, his hair dyed blond, skin bronzed from frequent visits to gyms and boxing clubs. His torso was sculpted, muscles bulging.
Dealing with someone like Qin Mu would take him only a couple of punches.
“There’s no need to stoop to his level. He’s got nothing but a foul mouth,” Tan Song waved her off. “Don’t forget, we have real business to attend to today.”
“Oh right, I can’t be bothered with you. Even talking to you lowers my status.”
Jiang Yao sneered, took Tan Song’s hand, and went upstairs.
Qin Mu did not try to stop them.
Wu Mu came out of one of the rooms, holding a rag.
“General, who are those people?” Wu Mu grumbled.
If it weren’t the general’s own relatives, anyone else who dared call him a bastard would have been slapped dead long ago.
“Jiang Zhen’s cousin from Third Uncle’s family. Used to join up with that second-generation brat Jiang Tao from Second Uncle’s house to bully Jiang Zhen.”
Back then, the Jiang family wasn’t wealthy, and among Jiang Haishan’s siblings, their branch was the poorest—naturally looked down upon by the other three families.
“Jiang Zhen was timid then, didn’t know how to fight back, so those two would torment her as they pleased.”
“There was one New Year’s Eve when those two troublemakers lit a string of firecrackers and tossed them into Jiang Zhen’s cup.”
Qin Mu recalled in detail.
The blasts were thunderous, waking everyone in the house.

Jiang Zhen was only seven or eight at the time, so frightened she fell off her bed and ran, tear-streaked, into Qin Mu’s room, hiding under his covers and crying herself to sleep. Her pale, terrified face was heartbreaking.
“I comforted her, then stormed into the crowd and, in front of their parents, pinned those two down and beat them until they knelt and apologized to Jiang Zhen.”
Qin Mu spoke without reservation.
Because of that incident, he’d beaten the old man’s beloved grandson and granddaughter. The doting old man refused to let Qin Mu sit at the table and chased him out with a broom.
Wu Mu listened with relish.
No wonder Jiang Yao harbored such animosity toward Qin Mu, wishing he’d died somewhere far away.
So that’s the story.
Having been beaten in public by Qin Mu as a child, she must have struggled for a long time to hold her head high again.
“Tsk tsk, everyone’s coming home tonight and you have time to chat?”
“If you don’t finish your work, wait for the old man to come back and scold you, then kick you out of the ancestral house, bastard!”
Jiang Yao, who had gone upstairs earlier, now descended.
Seeing Qin Mu talking so cheerfully annoyed her, and she immediately began to berate him.
Qin Mu couldn’t be bothered, and continued cleaning.
Jiang Yao wanted to curse him further, but seeing his indifferent attitude, she spat, then headed downstairs.
But as she brushed past Qin Mu, he suddenly straightened and spoke.
“Hand over what you’re carrying.”