“Then I shall not decline,” the man who had been called stood up with a smile.
One of them stood with hands clasped behind his back, while the other held a folding fan with a graceful bearing.
As spiritforce surged around them, though it looked like mere sparring, both were actually using true skill.
From within the room came the sound of a zither. The melody was like iron cavalry charging, like the great Yellow River rolling eastward.
It carried a heavy battle rhythm, “rumbling,” as if painting visions before one’s eyes, enemy generals beheaded amidst armies of ten thousand.
The music made the blood boil, stirring a desire to fight heaven and earth.
As if inspired by the zither, the two in the plum garden to the left of the music hall also began to fight in earnest.
One punch carried the true intent of fist law.
A folding fan, illusions of plum blossoms blooming, even snow falling endlessly from the heavens.
Though it was said to be friendly sparring, everyone there was almost entirely fighting for Miss Jing’s favor.
It didn’t take long before the man with the folding fan was defeated, his illusion shattered with one punch, his body sent flying.
“Lone Goose of Great Desert, Bai, comes to learn,” another man immediately stepped forward after the fan-holder’s defeat.
“Gentlemen, why not allow the participants to rest for a round before continuing,” the courtesan of Elegant Garden suggested with a smile.
That way it would be fairer, avoiding a wheel battle.
“Very well, this brother shall rest for now. Who is willing to fight me?” Lone Goose Bai called loudly.
“Weren’t you wanting to go?” Xu Zimo looked at the fat man and asked.
“These people don’t interest me. Only when Niu Dali or Zuo Quan take the stage will it be worthy of me,” the fat man said disdainfully.
“You also like Miss Jing?” Xu Zimo asked.
“Not really. I have questions I wish to ask her. They say she knows everything,” the fat man replied.
“Then does she know about the Blood Rune Beasts?” Xu Zimo asked with a smile.
At Xu Zimo’s words, the fat man fell silent for a moment, then looked around cautiously.
Seeing no one paying attention, he whispered, “I’ll tell you a secret. The seal of the Blood Rune Space has cracked. The day the Blood Rune Beasts escaped, I heard the Lord of Destruction himself personally visited Miss Jing.”
“Truly?” Xu Zimo was stunned.
“Just hearsay, just hearsay,” the fat man quickly denied with an awkward smile.
…
In the center of the plum garden, matches had rotated many times.
Almost everyone there came to join in, regardless of strength.
After nearly half an hour, only one man remained standing.
It was an old man.
“Is there anyone else who wishes to fight? If not, then this spot belongs to me,” the old man said with a smile.
Silence spread through the crowd, most had already gone up and been defeated.
Then came a shout, “I’ll go.” Niu Dali, bare-chested, walked in from outside the plum garden.
Niu Dali looked at the old man, waved his hand lightly, and said with a smile, “One move.”
“Young man, your tone is far too arrogant,” the old man snorted.
Niu Dali said nothing. From his nostrils came two streams of white air.
In the next instant, golden light flashed across the horns atop his head, and his body blurred into illusion.
With a boom, he appeared right before the old man, ramming forward with his horns.
The old man gathered spiritforce in both hands, unleashing it violently to meet the charge.
A scream rang out.
The golden horns pierced directly through the old man’s body, nailing him upon them.
“Killing you sullies my horns,” Niu Dali said coldly.
His eyes swept the crowd with vicious glare, sending chills down spines.
“Zuo Quan, fight me,” Niu Dali demanded.
“I am in no hurry,” Zuo Quan waved his hand slightly, as if waiting for something.
“If you won’t fight, then scram,” Niu Dali said disdainfully.
“Who else dares fight?”
“I’ll give it a try,” the fat man stepped forward and said calmly.
“Who are you?” Niu Dali frowned.
“What does it matter? Fight,” the fat man shouted fiercely and charged.
His plump body was unexpectedly nimble, like a slippery loach, darting at Niu Dali.
Niu Dali snorted coldly, stamping the ground with his giant foot, causing countless cracks to split the earth.
“Nine Meridian Seal,” the fat man said coldly.
His figure split into countless afterimages in the air.
These afterimages were indistinguishable from reality, surrounding Niu Dali.
Niu Dali was instantly confused, unable to direct his brute strength.
In the next instant, the afterimages moved so fast they were nearly invisible.
Even Xu Zimo, using perception, could only see blurry forms.
Bang, bang, bang, their collisions echoed in the air.
“Enough,” the fat man withdrew rapidly, pulling back to distance himself from Niu Dali.
“What did you do?” Niu Dali glared furiously.
The golden light that had shone on his horns before was now gone, no trace of spiritforce within.
“My sealing technique can seal your meridians. For seven days, you’re no different from an ordinary man,” the fat man said proudly.
“Do you still wish to fight?”
“You used trickery,” Niu Dali shouted angrily.
“If no one else wishes to fight, then the spot is mine.”
“Zuo Quan,” Niu Dali said unwillingly, turning to him.
“I won’t participate,” Zuo Quan shook his head.
“Since no one else dares step up, then I declare the first place of this martial gathering belongs to Young Master Bai,” the courtesan announced with a smile.
“Wait,” the fat man raised his hand, looked at Xu Zimo, and smiled.
“Brother Xu, I give this spot to you.”
“To me?” Xu Zimo was startled.
“Yes,” the fat man chuckled, walking forward and patting Xu Zimo’s shoulder. “One night of spring is worth a thousand gold. Don’t waste my goodwill.”
“Why give it to me?” Xu Zimo asked doubtfully.
“Because I feel like it. I don’t need a reason to act,” the fat man said, waving dismissively.
“Then please, this way,” the courtesan said to Xu Zimo.
“According to the rules, you may now spend the night with Miss Jing.”
Xu Zimo felt a bit muddled by it all, but under the envious gazes of the crowd, followed the courtesan into the depths of the music hall.
Passing through the main hall, they reached a corridor ahead.
On either side hung countless paintings and calligraphy scrolls.
“Miss Jing adores writing and painting,” the courtesan explained with a smile. “All of these are her own works.”
Xu Zimo showed little interest; such things did not attract him.
As they walked through the corridor, a gentle zither tune began to rise in the distance.
Like curling smoke from kitchen fires, soft and lingering.