Zheng Liang dusted off his hands and meticulously cleaned them with the handkerchief he had on him. He didn't want to come into contact with his wife with hands that had dealt with the man who had disrespected her. Once satisfied, he stood beside Yang Ning, placing a gentle hand on her back and drawing her to his side.
Standing beside Yang Ning, Zheng Liang fixed a chilling gaze on the man writhing on the ground. "You should be grateful to your father and elder brother. They're the only reasons you're still breathing, and why this hand of yours is still attached to your body. If not for them, I would have chopped it off by now," he warned with a dark edge to his voice.
The man, face smeared with dirt and stained by tears, managed to lift his head, his voice quivering. "Who... who are you? Why... Why are you doing this to me?" Even as he spoke, there was a palpable hesitance in his words, a clear indication of his fear of invoking further wrath from Zheng Liang.
