Villain Marrying The Heroine Is Perfectly Plausible, Right? - Chapter 120:

Chapter 120: True and False Flower Pickers

Ye Chen crouched in the shadows of the trees, his body hidden beneath the cover of thick jungle, only his eyes visible through the leaves. Those eyes gleamed with a dark hunger, filled with anticipation and desire.

In the distance, a slender silhouette approached along the path in the park. A young woman in sleek sportswear jogged forward, her figure graceful and athletic. A bright headband held back her hair, giving her a fresh, youthful energy.

Ye Chen’s gaze locked onto her, and a wicked fire stirred inside him. He felt his blood boil again.

Perfect. Chen Lang’s sister. Ravage her, then kill her.

As soon as Chen Shihan ran close, Ye Chen leapt out from the shadows and stood in her path. Dressed in black, with a mask hiding his face, he had completely replicated the flower thief’s appearance from the news.

He spoke in a low, sinister voice, “How could such a beautiful girl be out here all alone—”

Before he could finish, the air suddenly split with a whistling noise. From every direction, bricks shot through the night sky like missiles. Taken by surprise, Ye Chen had no time to dodge.

A second later, cries of pain erupted from his throat as he was struck in the chest, back, arms, and legs. The impact left him reeling—he couldn’t even figure out where the pain hurt the most.

Furious, Ye Chen roared, “Who the hell ambushed me?!”

In response, a group of people burst out of the surrounding woods. Dozens of them swarmed toward him, armed with swinging sticks, steel pipes, and zero hesitation.

“Shit! It’s a trap!” Ye Chen shouted, trying to flee. He instantly sensed that some among them were powerful cultivators. Without a second thought, he ran for his life.

The mob gave chase, not bothering with any talk. They just followed him, weapons raised.

Ye Chen’s mind spun. Were these people Chen Shihan’s bodyguards? That couldn’t be—he’d scoped out the area for days and never saw anything suspicious. So why had this many fighters suddenly appeared?

He didn’t have time to figure it out.

After a few hundred meters, someone caught up and punched him hard, sending him sprawling to the ground. Before he could recover, he was surrounded. Dozens of steel pipes and sticks came down on him.

Meanwhile, Chen Shihan stood nearby, completely calm. From the moment Ye Chen had jumped out to block her path, everything had gone exactly as planned. She wasn’t interested in getting involved. She simply adjusted her headband and prepared to continue her run.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle pierced the air.

A shadow fell from the night sky, gliding forward like a bat.

Under the streetlights, the figure became clear—a man cloaked in black, his face mostly hidden behind a kerchief, leaving only a pair of lecherous eyes visible. But what stood out the most was his hairstyle: his bald skull gleamed under the streetlight, save for a single long braid hanging from the back. He looked like some forgotten nomad from the ancient north—only far more ridiculous.

Then came the same, tired line from his mouth, in a hoarse, creepy voice, “How could such a beautiful girl be all alone…”

Chen Shihan raised her eyebrows. “…Seriously?”

Could this be a real flower thief this time? And why were these creeps always using the same line?

Just as the man with the braid lunged toward her, another figure shot out of nowhere, placing himself between them.

The next moment, the flower thief was sent flying through the air with a single blow.

Though the streetlight was dim, Chen Shihan recognized the broad back instantly.

“Chen Lang?!”

Chen Lang was completely disguised—wearing both a mask and sunglasses to conceal his identity. He had been quietly tailing his sister using a stealth technique, curious to see who she might be secretly meeting.

But instead of catching her on a date with some boy, he first witnessed a suspicious figure jump out… and immediately get swarmed and beaten.

He hadn’t even had time to breathe before another bizarre-looking man swooped in like a villain from a martial arts film.

Chen Lang had also seen the news about the so-called flower thief. Judging by this man’s appearance, it seemed this one might be the real deal.

What the hell was going on? Why was the park this chaotic tonight?

Even though Chen Lang had intervened, he wasn’t planning to reveal his strength. His public identity didn’t allow it. So he made sure to keep his mask and sunglasses on to stay hidden. Deep down, he regretted not bringing Ye Chen’s Satan mask. That way, all of this could’ve been blamed on him.

Right now, the most shocked person was the flower thief himself.

He stared at Chen Lang in disbelief. That blow—he hadn’t even felt a hand touch him. Just a gust of energy had sent him flying.

What kind of monster was this man?!

When had such a terrifying expert appeared in Nanjiang’s cultivation world?

Why had he never heard of him before?

No—it had to be an illusion. That had to be it.

The flower thief narrowed his eyes and took a defensive stance, braid swaying. “Are you planning to get in my way?”

Chen Lang raised a finger, pointing right at him. “Cut the nonsense. Come at me if you dare.”

That pose—he had learned it two days ago while watching a Bruce Lee movie with Chen Shihan. And now he finally had a chance to use it.

The man with the long braid drew a strangely shaped machete from under his cloak. Under the glow of the streetlight, its cold blade shimmered menacingly. He began to shift his body cautiously from side to side, his steps unpredictable, then suddenly lunged forward—his figure a blur, darting toward Chen Lang like a bolt of lightning.

Chen Shihan’s heart jumped in panic. She instinctively wanted to run forward and block the attack. But in the very next second, she froze.

Chen Lang’s tall, composed silhouette didn’t even flinch. With precise timing, his right leg lifted slightly—and his size 43 shoe landed squarely on the braided man’s face.

The flower thief was sent flying backward with a dull thud, his body spinning through the air and landing heavily in the same spot he’d started from.

Chen Lang casually struck a Bruce Lee pose, lifted his hand, and shouted with a playful cry, “Wu! The dragon swings its tail!”

Chen Shihan, watching from behind, couldn’t stop herself from laughing out loud. The whole thing was absurd. The flower thief had approached with flashy, snake-like movements, only to be sent hurtling back in a straight line like a cartoon character.

It was bizarrely satisfying.

On the ground, blood spurted from the braided man’s mouth, staining his black face covering bright red. His eyes were wide with shock and disbelief.

“You… What school of martial arts are you from?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Chen Lang nonchalantly wiped his nose. “No fancy kung fu, just instinct.”

The thief groaned and, with effort, leapt up into a tree, crouching among the branches. “My condition’s not right today… You! What’s your name? Dare to fight me another day?”

Chen Lang raised his thumb and pointed to his face beneath the mask and sunglasses. Then, using his special skill Ventia Master to perfectly mimic Ye Chen’s voice, he spoke coolly, “You’re scared just hearing my name. I’ll say it anyway.”

“I don’t change names or surnames. My name is Ye Mingchen. In the cultivation world, they call me Satan. That’s me!”

The flower thief’s eyes flashed with recognition. “Ye Chen? Satan? Good! I’ll remember you, Ye Chen!”

“One day soon, I’ll come find you again. And when that time comes, we’ll settle this—win or lose, life or death!”

With his final declaration, the flower thief spun his cloak and, like a bat in the night, vanished into the darkness.

Behind him, Chen Shihan’s eyes sparkled with admiration.

Chen Lang’s kick… was so handsome!

When had her brother become this strong? She had always thought he let her win whenever they sparred in Jiu-Jitsu. But now she realized just how vast the gap between them truly was. And on top of that, he could even mimic someone else’s voice perfectly.

Those few lines earlier had sounded nothing like Chen Lang. She didn’t detect even a hint of his tone.

Chen Lang dusted off his hands, treating the encounter as nothing more than brushing off a fly. Then, he activated his heightened sensory technique to check on what was happening with Ye Chen.

When he saw the result, he nearly cursed.

Holy crap—be gentle, leave the guy breathing!

He could clearly see Ye Chen being swarmed and beaten senseless, curled up like a half-dead dog in the middle of the mob. Fortunately, Chen Lang noticed the protagonist was still breathing. The Nine Heavens Searching Dragon Art’s regenerative power seemed to be holding up.

He should be fine.

But then Chen Lang frowned.

Among the crowd pummeling Ye Chen… wasn’t that Cheng Jinjin?!

What the hell was he doing here again, joining in the chaos?

Sighing deeply, Chen Lang shook his head and turned to leave. He didn’t plan to greet Chen Shihan. Displaying too much power didn’t suit his current persona. Whether she recognized him or not—he wouldn’t admit it.

Now that everything was under control, he silently activated his stealth movement technique and slipped back into the shadows.