Rebirth: Slice-of-life Cultivation Chapter 1626 - 888: Unseeable

Rural tourism.

Alongside these words, a wild and malicious figure manifested before the onlookers. This individual’s face was smeared with grime, and his attire was equally filthy and chaotic, drenched in a mysterious dark brown fluid, presenting a truly wretched appearance. Compared to Li Han and his companions, who sported designer labels and possessed a polished, aristocratic air, they might as well have belonged to entirely different realms. Even so, his eyes burned with a singular, fierce intensity, as if they might combust at any moment.

Noticing that gaze, Li Qingyang felt a jolt of terror and instinctively scrambled back two paces. A chilling recollection surfaced: she had seen a wanted criminal on a poster at her uncle the captain's office who bore an uncanny, identical resemblance to this man.

Li Han cried out in panic, "Dad, what is happening to you!"

Scarcely had he finished when Zhang Chi, who had been tailing them, brought his foot down heavily on Director Li’s shoulder, pinning his struggling form back to the earth. This man, who had once crushed Zhang Chi’s pride and savored his humiliation, was now being trampled underfoot.

Maintaining his stance, Zhang Chi locked eyes with Li Han, his expression arctic as he demanded, "Is this mongrel your father?"

Li Han was stunned for a heartbeat, then erupted with fury—his father had been assaulted! Consumed by blind rage, he lost his composure and shrieked, "Damn you, how dare you lay a hand on my father!"

The impulsive, hot-headed Li Han threw a punch at Zhang Chi. Zhang Chi pivoted away, forcing Li Han’s fist to strike only air; the momentum sent him stumbling forward off-balance. Zhang Chi sneered. A year ago, back when Qi Tianheng had invaded his dorm after merely a year or two of martial arts training, he had already been no match for Zhang Chi—and that was before Zhang Chi had spent the last year honing his skills in countless back-alley brawls.

Zhang Chi delivered a crushing blow to the man’s gut. The agony was instantaneous and insurmountable. Li Han’s features contorted in pure misery; even a man untrained in combat would bruise his own knuckles punching a stomach, let alone weathering such a calculated strike. His legs gave way, and he crumpled to the dust.

"I’ve laid low every riff-raff in Yuzhou; you really think a pretty boy like you can touch me?" Zhang Chi spat on the floor, oozing contempt. He cast a sharp gaze toward the other young men who had been itching for a fight, barking, "Who else wants a piece of me?"

The group of friends trailing Li Han instantly stiffened, suddenly devoid of any bravado.

Witnessing his son’s defeat, Director Li gasped, "Hanhan, Xiao Han, are you alright?"

Zhang Chi delivered another sharp kick. "Filthy wretch, worrying about others!" He stooped down, seized the portly Director Li by his clothing, and hauled him back toward the open courtyard, snarling, "Dammit, eat the beef!"

When Director Li resisted, Zhang Chi offered a final ultimatum: "If you don’t eat, I’ll force it down your son’s throat!"

Director Li immediately fell silent.

Once Zhang Chi had shoved him back into the private room, Boss Zhao hurried over, his face etched with pure anxiety. "Xiao Zhang! Xiao Zhang, please!" Within the room, Yang Fei was still attending to Director Han. He knew the man’s stature—among the VIPs present, he was undeniably at the top of the food chain. Director Han had already placed an emergency call, though the incomplete state of the local police station meant help would be delayed. Yet, true to his status, the Director had regained his composure, watching as Zhang Chi grabbed Director Li’s scalp and forced his face into the spilled stewed beef on the floor.

Being a devout vegetarian, Director Han rebuked him: "Young man, your conduct is inexcusable!"

Zhang Chi snapped his head around, glaring at the man whom Director Li toadied up to. "Dammit, when he was splashing that on my face earlier, you kept your mouth shut. Now that you're speaking up? Go to hell!"

Director Han’s jaw trembled with righteous indignation. He slammed his fist onto the table, shouting, "Do words like 'law' and 'order' mean nothing to you?"

Zhang Chi’s visage turned chilling. "The only reason I haven't leveled you yet is out of basic respect for the law!"

As he spoke, he snatched a handful of beef and charged toward Director Han, shattering two chairs in his path. Yang Fei, a man of quick intellect, realized that if this escalated, the young man’s life would be ruined. He rushed to block Zhang Chi’s path, pleading, "Brother, please! Look, I’m begging you—do me a favor and let this go, alright?"

Yang Fei was a thick-set, imposing man, and having shared a portion of beef with Zhang Chi earlier, there was a glimmer of goodwill between them; Zhang Chi chose to yield. He retreated, sat heavily in a chair, and glared at Director Li. "If you miss a single piece, I’m slapping you!"

The room settled into a tense, suffocating silence. Director Li hung his head, scavenging for the meat on the floor like a beast headed for the slaughterhouse. His eyes burned with an inner furnace of hatred; never in all his years had he suffered such ignominy. He was merely biding his time until the police arrived, at which point he planned to pull every string in his collection to destroy this boy and ensure he never emerged from the shadows again.

The sound of frantic, dry retching emanated from the floor—nausea overwhelmed Director Li as he struggled to swallow. Catching the sound, Zhang Chi glanced at the table, where a few stray pieces of stewed beef remained from the initial struggle. He grabbed one and popped it into his mouth. It was still warm, tenderly stewed, and rich with flavor, the tendons perfectly set. It was a rare delicacy. Only the campus canteen, bolstered by Evergreen Liquid, ever produced such quality.

Zhang Chi finished off the remaining scraps on the table himself. A chilling hush descended upon the room. For reasons he couldn't explain, Zhang Chi recalled his old political theories teacher—a small, elderly man who constantly recited passionate quotes, many of which had remained etched in his memory.

"They said that to endure hardship and reject personal gain meant working solely for the welfare of others, dedicating their lives with such fervor that they would serve until their final breath... and they truly lived by those words."