A Dish Best Served Cold (The Man In Rage) novel Chapter 1961

“What I want is simple. For you to apologize on your knees.”

Ye Fan's cold, expressionless words incensed them further.

Frightened out of her wits, Selva quickly grabbed Ye Fan and attempted to appease the collectors at the same time.

“I'm sorry, sirs. This nephew of mine has a habit of speaking out of turn. You wouldn't hold it against him, would you? Please, don't apologize.”

Between her unctuous pleas, Selva persuaded Ye Fan in urgent whispers to return to the house quickly. She also told him to let the matter go since the collectors had already decided to honor their contract while lamenting that dignity and justice were luxuries that the poor such as herself had no use for.

The old woman had lived a life of poverty and hardship. As such, she did not have much nostalgia for the world.

If she was alone, she would have fought for justice even if it cost her her life.

However, the well-being of her grandson was more important to her.

Though she was used to enduring hardship, she could not bear to witness Geetha and Ye Fan's suffering. She was determined to protect the innocence of their youth even if it meant having to endure humiliation on her part.

Therefore, watching Ye Fan pick a fight was more than she could bear as she was afraid of him being implicated because of her.

Ye Fan shook his head. “All living beings are equal, madam. No one is born noble. Although you and I are poor, we are by no means lowly. Others may look down on us, but we must never look down on ourselves. There are some things in life that we need to fight for. I, Chu Tianfan, vow to recover your justice and dignity on your behalf.” Though Ye Fan did not raise his voice, his sonorous words rang loud and clear.

He then turned to look at Geetha who was left in a heap on the floor, beaten and bruised. “Stand up, Geetha.”

“Sir, I...” Geetha seemed to be in pain. He did not even have the courage to uncurl himself.

“Stand up, Geetha! If you don't want to be trodden on all your life, stand up no matter how much it hurts!”

Ye Fan's expression became stern, and there was a note of authority in his voice.

Geetha endured the pain by gritting his teeth before summoning all his strength to do as he was told.

“Very good,” Ye Fan said approvingly. “Do you see these men before you? Do you remember which one of them struck you and your grandmother earlier? Hit them back.”

Every single person present was stunned by Ye Fan's words, especially the representatives of the King of India, who looked at him like he was an idiot.

“Hah!”

“Did he get his skull caved in by a donkey's hooves?”

“Did he really ask this little brat to hit us back?”

“Look at him, he wouldn't dare!”

Far from being frightened, the collectors merely laughed like they had heard a funny joke.

Sure enough, Geetha stopped moving forward. Fear was written all over his dark, bright eyes.

He shook his head at Ye Fan as he sobbed. “1-1 can't, sir. 1-1 can't do it.”

“Hold your tongue!” Ye Fan snapped, sounding angry by that point. “How are you going to defend your grandmother when you're not even able to stand up to this bunch? Show me you're a man and strike them back! Don't let me lose the respect I have for you.”

Geetha hesitated for a long time before finally closing his eyes and rushing over with a battle cry. Leaping as high as he could, the boy's foot landed squarely on one of the men's chest.

As the collectors were untrained civilians, the force of a furious ten-year-old's kick was something to be reckoned with.

“Ow! I'll kill you, you little brat!”

After a scream of pain and rage, the collector whose chest bore the brunt procured a baseball bat seemingly out of nowhere and swung it at Geetha's head.

“Be careful, Geetha!” Selva cried out, pale with fright.

Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of green followed by a dismembered arm and the bat it had been yielding before falling to the ground with two consecutive thuds.

A splash of dark red was sent high into the sky before drizzling over the other collectors in a fine mist.