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He fiddled with the gun in his hand.

A few days earlier, he got the female mercenary commander to teach him how to use a gun.

After the recent series of events, he understood that he needed to learn some self-defense skills.

He did not like overly relying on others regarding any matter; his character did not allow him to do so.

He was too weak and helpless. Without Little Yichen’s or Lisa’s protection, he would have a hard time protecting himself.

There was, therefore, a need for him to learn and master the skills of protecting himself!

For the past two days, he had been actively learning marksmanship from Vermilion Bird.

The latter had a surprising realization that the boy had a gift for marksmanship for he picked up the skills very quickly. Not only did he learn how to load a magazine, his shooting accuracy, despite not being too precise, was relatively high for a beginner, and it surprised her quite substantially.

Mu Yazhe watched his son hold and load the gun with familiarity. He raised his arm and aimed the black muzzle at Mu Lianjue.

His hand gestures and stance were very professional.

The little guy had learned to use a gun behind his back?!

He was filled with shock and admiration.

The moment the boy held up the gun, color drained from Mu Lianjue’s face as his lips convulsed with fear. “W-What... are you doing?!”

“I picked up some gun skills recently, but it’s a pity that no one was available to practice with me.”

With that, his lips curled up. “Fourth great-uncle, how about you practice it with me?”

“N-No...”

The man’s face had turned ashen by now. Suddenly, he pivoted on his feet and tried to escape from them.

Without further ado, the boy pulled the trigger and fired two shots at the back of his legs!

The latter howled in pain as he stumbled to the ground. The blood-curdling screech pierced through the quiet, night sky and spread far across the mouth of the vast expressway, but soon, the sound dispersed with the cold wind.

“These two shots are for Uncle Zhao!”

If he had not sent those assassins that day, that kind-hearted uncle would not have died.

This was what Mu Lianjue owed the Zhao family; he needed to be punished for his crimes to them!

Thereafter, the kid fired two more shots at him. A tragic cry burst out from the man again. His entire body shook in pain as he rolled about on the ground, holding onto his wounded knee.

Mu Yazhe glanced at his son icily standing ramrod straight in the bone-chilling wind!

Standing sideways, his black, silky hair fluttered in the wind. It brushed against his cheeks and intertwined with his dense eyebrows.

His fair and adorable face was presently utterly somber; his eyes were so dark and solemn that they seemed to be covered with a layer of ice—wholly devoid of warmth!

His shooting was accurate. Not a hint of emotion could be found on his cold face when he fired the shots. It appeared to be nothing more than a routine to him.

He did not move even an inch when he heard the middle-aged man’s ear-piercing scream. His eyes blinked callously as if already numb with regard to death.

His father had mixed feelings about this.

In fact, he was not entirely willing to let the boy come into contact with the dark side of things at such a tender age.

He was still only seven, after all. Such things were unsuitable for his age.