Even Yi Nanping could be no stronger than the longsword in his own hands.
Just as he was about to speak, he realized that the actions of the martial artists around him drinking and eating meat had slowed down. Their faces, slightly flushed from the wine, seemed to grow a touch colder, and pairs of eyes turned to look at the two of them. Despite his considerable martial arts skills, for a moment he felt as though he had fallen into a pack of wolves, sending a shiver of fear through his heart.
Suddenly, he realized that Yi Nanping had a good reputation among the smaller sects' martial artists, especially in the ordinary martial artists of Fufeng and Wuxian counties. The two of them had just committed a grave taboo. He was not afraid of these ordinary martial artists, but the things he sought could not afford to make enemies of them. With a slight shift in thought, he immediately laughed and said,
"Brother Zhao, what you say is wrong, how can I compare myself to such a hero like Yi Nanping?"
"It's just a pity, such a hero, yet also being used by others..."
As his voice fell, it seemed tinged with emotion, and he shook his head and sighed. The expressions of the crowd changed slightly, their attention drawn. Chang Yongyan, seeing this, felt somewhat relieved and, with a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, calmly said,
"The one who used him is named Sun Xingwei, a lame military adviser. Clearly, it is Hero Yi Nanping who, at no concern for his own life, fought off the bandits; yet that old thief took the credit for himself, got reappointed after retiring, tsk, truly a corrupt official."
Since ancient times, the government and heroes have not stood together, and within Chang Yongyan's words, there was respect for Yi Nanping. The focus of the martial artists was diverted, and fueled by the alcohol, they cursed the scoundrel loudly.
Atop the tavern, a cold glint flickered in Wang Anfeng's eyes.
He remembered the stubborn old man in Guangwu City, loudly denouncing the injustice.
He remembered the Qin iron soldier, who had cast off his battle armor and sat silently in front of the government office.
In that lame elder, he saw the reason why Great Qin was Great Qin.
Now, hearing the insults below—left as a corrupt official, and right as an old thief—although he was normally composed, he could no longer ignore them and slowly stood up. Everyone's gaze fell on the youth, with a touch of curiosity, only to see the young man smile lightly and say,
"I suddenly remembered I left something on my horse and need to fetch it now."
Because he appeared calm, no one thought much of it and merely told him to go quickly and return quickly. As he was leaving, Xue Qinshuang's voice reached his ear.
Wang Anfeng's step faltered slightly, and though it seemed no one else noticed, Xue Qinshuang's gaze was lowered, simply looking at the undulating tea leaves in her tea. The young man nodded slightly and left the pavilion. Xue Qinshuang raised her eyes, watching Wang Anfeng's back, her gaze lingering on the wooden sword, her expression thoughtful.
Above the arena, the chilly atmosphere had vanished, and Chang Yongyan raised his cup for a drink, his eyes slightly narrowed as he sighed with relief, despising the youth in front of him. At that moment, he noticed a figure stepping forward.
Looking up, he saw a person in a blue shirt, carrying a wooden sword on his back, with an air of cleanliness despite his youthful appearance of no more than fifteen. He couldn't help but underestimate him and continued to drink as if he hadn't seen. The young man beside him also saw Wang Anfeng and laughed,
"Brother, have you come to see the tournament as well?"
"But today you are late, why not have some wine and meat? Of course, you won't be short on silver coins."
Wang Anfeng's eyes narrowed, and without responding, he gave a modest fist and palm salute and said,
"Young Master Zhao said earlier, 'On the arena today, we compete in martial arts, and anyone who steps onto this arena is an opponent.' A gentleman's word, heavy as a pledge of horses, surely isn't a joke made in front of so many people..."
The youth's expression stalled, as he had not expected the newcomer to be hostile with such sharp words.
But being used to thinking quickly at his father's side, he did not panic and only smiled,
"Brother, you are right, but I also said that today's arena is for the competition for the Lost Treasure, and now that the Lost Treasure is in the hands of Young Master Chang, how can it be competed for?"
The surrounding people, who had had their fill of drink, laughed out loud.
Wang Anfeng felt slightly startled and found it somewhat amusing, not knowing whether he should thank this young master with a fist and palm salute.
He had indeed lacked a reason to make a move.
He then turned to Chang Yongyan with an outstretched right hand, and calmly said,
"Young Master Chang, you are also upon the arena at this moment."
If one is on the arena, then all are opponents.
The implication was, he intended to match against the up-and-coming youth on the Constellation Ranking List, the Flying Cloud Swordsman.
Everyone on the platform was stunned and bewildered, as if in a dream.
On a nearby rooftop, a young man sat biting into a big pancake, his cheeks puffing up as he chewed.
As a State City patrol officer, he knew there wouldn't be any fools causing trouble here, and to be prepared just in case, his boss had them guard this place. Watching others enjoy good wine and meat while he had to settle for cold tea and dry pancake, he was already feeling disgruntled.
And hearing those martial artists slander that elder like spitting crap, his anger burned even more.
If it weren't for being on duty, he would have drawn his sword to let them know the true capability of the government's martial artists.
Great Qin doesn't care what you say.
But if you spout crap, don't complain if someone shoves your head into a cesspit.
Wei Heshuo was fuming inside but then saw a youth walk over. Having dealt with many a public affair, he could tell that the youth was heading straight toward the central figures, his back straight, clearly not there to flatter or brown-nose. Taken aback for a moment, he quickly realized what was going on and let out a chant,
"He's looking to stir up trouble."