Chapter 39 My Woman—How Dare You Touch Her?

Duantian De lunged toward Qin Monong.
Qin Monong frantically dodged, her face drained of color in fear.
But Duantian De wasn’t in a hurry; he toyed with her like a cat playing with a mouse, letting out a triumphant laugh.
“President Qin, you can’t escape. Just surrender to me.”
Duantian De lunged again. Qin Monong had been forced into a corner of the garden, with nowhere left to run.
“Nowhere to go, is there? Originally, I planned to kill that brat first and then have some fun with you. But since he’s too much of a coward to show up, tonight, it’s just the two of us.”
Duantian De rubbed his hands together, eyes filled with lustful hunger.
The sight made Qin Monong nauseous.
She bitterly regretted her encounter with Lin Yang; at least with him, she hadn’t felt disgusted—in fact, she had enjoyed it.
But with this man before her, Qin Monong would rather die than let him touch her.
“Damn Wang Huirong, what kind of person did you bring me?”
With nowhere left to run, Qin Monong steeled herself: she would sooner smash her head against the wall than allow herself to be humiliated.
Seeing Duantian De step closer, Qin Monong’s heart hardened with resolve, ready for death.
In that moment, Lin Yang suddenly leaped over the garden wall, wrapped an arm around Qin Monong’s waist.
“My woman—how dare you lay a finger on her?”
“Lin Yang!”
At the sight of Lin Yang, Qin Monong felt a surge of hope, as if grabbing hold of a lifeline, forgetting entirely that Duantian De was there because she had hired him to kill Lin Yang.
“So you finally showed up, brat. Fine—I'll kill you first, then Qin Monong will still be mine.”
Duantian De grinned viciously, not considering Lin Yang any threat at all.
“Lin Yang, be careful, he…he’s a sixth-rank expert, can you beat him?”
At this point, Qin Monong didn’t want Lin Yang dead in the least.
As they say, comparison only makes things clearer.
With Duantian De as a contrast, Lin Yang suddenly seemed far more appealing.
After all, Lin Yang was young, handsome, strong, and energetic—like a little dynamo!
“Didn’t you hire him to kill me? And now you’re worried I won’t be able to win?”
Lin Yang teased.
“I…”
Qin Monong was left speechless.
“Brat, prepare to die!”

Duantian De let out a chilling laugh and charged at Lin Yang like a ravenous tiger, exuding ferocity.
But Lin Yang had no patience to waste time; with a single punch, he sent Duantian De flying.
Duantian De soared over ten meters away, eyes wide in disbelief, blood gurgling from his mouth. In just a few moments, his breath ceased—dead.
Never in his wildest dreams could Duantian De have imagined being killed with a single blow.
Nor did Qin Monong expect it; she had been worried Lin Yang wouldn’t stand a chance—what then?
But in the blink of an eye, Duantian De was sent sprawling.
“He…he’s dead?” Qin Monong asked in disbelief.
“He’s dead.”
“How did you do it?” Her beautiful eyes shone with wonder.
Lin Yang raised his fist. “One punch was all it took.”
Qin Monong realized she could no longer fathom Lin Yang’s depths. He had defeated Wang Huirong so easily, and now even a sixth-rank expert had fallen to a single punch.
Yet just two days ago, Lin Yang had been a pathetic wretch, beaten senseless by Qin Yanran, nearly to death.
Qin Monong began to doubt: was this man really Lin Yang?
“Why are you looking at me like that? Have you been conquered by my dashing good looks?”
Lin Yang flashed a wide grin.
“I suspect you’re not Lin Yang. Who are you, really? Why are you impersonating him?”
It was the only explanation that made sense to her.
Otherwise, none of this could be explained.
“Believe what you like. I’ll go deal with this corpse.”
Lin Yang walked over, hoisted Duantian De’s body, carried it from the villa, tossed it in the trunk, drove to the Luo River, and threw it into the water.
He then returned to Qin Monong’s home.
Qin Monong sat on the sofa. Lin Yang naturally walked over, slipping one arm around her, the other hand boldly venturing beneath her collar for those proud peaks.
“Who are you?”
Qin Monong didn’t resist—perhaps she knew resistance was futile, or perhaps she had simply grown used to it.
She looked at Lin Yang with shining eyes, demanding an answer.
“I am Lin Yang, the real one.”
“No! You’re not him. Did you die in the Luo River and get possessed by a ghost?”
The more she thought, the more frightened she became, her reasoning spiraling into absurdity. She shrank away, face filled with fear.
“If there really were ghosts in this world, I’d like to meet them. Since you want to know, I might as well tell you.”

Lin Yang curled his finger at Qin Monong, then patted his thigh, beckoning her to sit.
She hesitated, not daring to approach.
“Don’t you want to know what happened to me? Come, and I’ll tell you.”
Qin Monong was no ordinary woman; after a brief panic, she calmed herself and obediently sat down on his lap.
Lin Yang encircled her with one arm, his other hand gently caressing her round, jade-like thigh, thoroughly enjoying himself.
“That night, it’s true I almost died. But the King of Hell wouldn’t take me, and Heaven finally took pity—I survived by a miracle.”
“The river carried me to the Shrine of the River Goddess, where I met a master. He pitied me, healed my wounds, and taught me martial arts. That’s all there is to it.”
Qin Monong felt Lin Yang’s hand sliding up her leg, making her squirm involuntarily.
“Is that true?” she asked, half believing, half doubting.
“Does it matter if it’s true?”
Lin Yang’s hands continued their forbidden journey, inner fire blazing.
Qin Monong was already melting in his arms, her exquisite face flushed, eyes shimmering with desire, her breath coming in soft, suppressed moans.
“Not here…let’s go upstairs, or tomorrow the sofa will have to be thrown out.”
Qin Monong knew her own body too well—she would soon lose all restraint.
This imported sofa cost hundreds of thousands, but bed sheets could be replaced for nothing.
But Lin Yang had no intention of listening. His fingers slipped past the final barrier, delving into her secret garden.
“I do as I please, wherever I please.”
Lin Yang channeled the pure yang energy from his medicinal baths, all of the dragon’s breath essence, into Qin Monong’s body, lest any residue cause him harm or lead to madness.
“Hiss…”
Later, Lin Yang glanced in the bathroom mirror—his shoulders bore Qin Monong’s bite marks, his back raked with fresh scratches.
“This woman is ruthless—can’t beat me, so she takes revenge like this.”
Having purged the excess yang energy, Lin Yang felt clear-headed and refreshed, not the least bit tired.
Qin Monong, on the other hand, was utterly spent, not wanting to move a finger.
“Now you can return to your bedroom.”
Lin Yang dressed, picked Qin Monong up, and carried her upstairs, gently placing her on the bed.
“Are you…leaving?”
Seeing Lin Yang already dressed, Qin Monong couldn’t help but ask in a languid, weary voice.