Chapter Forty: Good People Do Not Cultivate!

"What are your terms?"

Jiang Wenchong spat blood onto the ground, gritting his teeth as he asked.

Yang Ye replied calmly, "I won’t kill your son Jiang Ming, but you must hand over the Jiang family’s wealth. As the steward of the Jiang family, the funds you control are certainly substantial. Of course, your family owes over a hundred billion in taxes, and I’ll take care of settling those afterwards."

"Never!" As soon as Yang Ye finished speaking, Jiang Wenchong glared at him with hatred. "Don’t think all the Jiang family members are here. Let me tell you the truth: my eldest son Jiang Cheng, my second daughter Jiang Lan, and several nephews are all training in the secret realm with the patriarch.

Our patriarch has long since become a super-star level powerhouse. If he learns of this, he won’t spare you. He will avenge us!"

"Oh?" Yang Ye’s tone was suddenly enlightened. "So the Jiang family still has members in the secret realm. Well, when it opens, I’ll pay your patriarch a visit."

Yang Ye spoke with such ease, utterly unconcerned. Jiang Wenchong’s eyes flickered at the sight.

Both Yang Ye and Long Xiaoqing gave him a sense of monstrous talent; when that day comes...

For some reason, Jiang Wenchong felt a vague foreboding about the distant future.

As Jiang Wenchong fell silent, Yang Ye looked up and signaled Zhou Hun.

Zhou Hun nodded, raised his blade, and with a swift motion, severed the head of a Jiang family member.

A chorus of screams erupted among the young Jiang family disciples as they watched the head roll across the floor, blood spraying in front of Jiang Ming.

Staring at the steaming blood, Jiang Ming’s eyes widened in terror.

Suddenly, he threw himself at Jiang Wenchong, wailing, "Dad! I don’t want to die! Please, dad, tell them the account and password! I beg you, dad, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die..."

Jiang Wenchong grabbed Jiang Ming’s arm, comforting him, "Don’t be afraid, son. With your father by your side, even in the underworld you won’t be alone."

Yang Ye sneered, "There’s no such thing as an underworld. When you die, there’s nothing left! Jiang Wenchong, even if you refuse to speak, I have other ways."

Yang Ye glanced at the kneeling Jiang family members and said coolly, "Whoever knows, speak up, and I’ll let you go."

"I know!" As soon as Yang Ye finished, someone raised his hand.

Yang Ye looked over; it was a middle-aged man, whom he recognized as one of the Jiang family stewards. When Yang Ye and Long Xiaoqing had first arrived, the man had looked at them with disdain.

"What’s your name? What’s your job?" Yang Ye asked.

The middle-aged man hurriedly replied, "My name is Qian Song, I’m Jiang Wenchong’s personal steward. The Jiang family has over a hundred accounts, kept by Jiang Wenchong on his portable USB drive. The password is Jiang Lan’s birthday, combined with Jiang Wenchong’s fingerprint and iris to access the accounts."

Qian Song revealed everything he knew in one breath.

"Qian Song, I’ve always treated you well! Why, why would you do this?" Jiang Wenchong roared at him as soon as Qian Song finished speaking. If he’d had any strength left, he would have strangled Qian Song on the spot.

Qian Song replied with a sorrowful face, "Master, you have treated me well, but I don’t want to die! I have a whole family to support!"

Yang Ye waved his hand.

Among the fifty-one people Yang Ye had brought, a woman in her thirties who knew how to operate such devices stepped forward. Following Yang Ye’s order, she searched Jiang Wenchong.

There was nothing on Jiang Wenchong.

The woman examined him, then plunged her hand into his abdomen with a sickening sound, extracting a USB drive the size of a fingernail.

Yang Ye felt a wave of nausea at the scene.

Damn! What kind of people are these?

They must have been locked up too long and gone mad.

The woman wiped the blood off the USB drive, pulled out a large phone, and smiled at Yang Ye, "Inspector Ye, sorry, I grabbed this from an office in the management department."

She plugged the USB into the phone and began to operate it skillfully.

Jiang Wenchong had fallen unconscious, but his fingerprint and iris were still usable.

As for the password, Qian Song provided it readily.

Soon, the woman turned to Yang Ye and said, "Inspector Ye, there are one hundred and fifty accounts in total, all unlocked. Rough estimate: over eighty billion martial coins."

"That’s a damn fortune!" Yang Ye exclaimed. He took the bank card given to him by his master from his storage ring and handed it to the woman. "Transfer all the funds to this card."

The woman glanced at the account number, then began her work.

A few minutes later, she nodded, "Inspector Ye, eighty-five billion two hundred and fifteen million martial coins, all transferred."

Yang Ye took the returned card and nodded in satisfaction. "What’s your name?"

"Subordinate Mao Li," the woman replied.

"Talented!" Yang Ye praised Mao Li, then stood and surveyed the despairing crowd. "Qian Song, I keep my word. You will be spared. However, you must return with me to the management bureau and give testimony—confirming that the Jiang family violently resisted the law, and I was compelled to use force."

"I understand, I understand!" Qian Song replied hastily.

Yang Ye exhaled deeply, took Long Xiaoqing’s small hand, and walked toward the manor’s exit.

The Jiang family members stared blankly at the backs of Yang Ye and Long Xiaoqing.

Zhou Hun waved his hand coldly, "Kill!"

The sounds of execution and pleas for mercy echoed behind them.

Yang Ye tightened his grip on Long Xiaoqing’s hand and hurried his pace.

Moments later, Zhou Hun caught up with Yang Ye. "Sir, there are many people outside the Jiang estate. Should we—?"

Yang Ye didn’t break his stride. "Handle it as you see fit. Later, you’ll receive a special fund to deal with these matters."

Zhou Hun stopped, "Understood! I’ll see to it thoroughly, leaving no trace."

After they’d walked a while, Long Xiaoqing asked curiously, "Husband, what did you mean by what you said just now?"

Yang Ye replied, "Cut the weeds, root and all."

"Oh!" Long Xiaoqing understood.

This world is cruel; Yang Ye didn’t want the Jiang family’s descendants to rise up and seek revenge on his own.

Even if he had no descendants, his sister would eventually marry and have children, and they would all be Yang Ye’s kin.

Yang Ye thought of himself—wasn’t he the perfect example?

He didn’t need to guess: Yang Haishan and his son Yang Le, even with backing now, must still feel uneasy.

His master had taught him long ago: cultivators shouldn’t be good people, and good people shouldn’t cultivate!

"I am not a good man."

As he walked out the gates of the Jiang estate, Yang Ye said softly.

Long Xiaoqing clung to Yang Ye’s arm, "Whether my husband is a good man or a rogue, he is always mine."