Chapter 120: Chapter 120

Shen Xiuhan spotted Master Mei Shuangfeng at once, seated in the second row, alongside the Ji clan’s household head Ji Shuying.

“To sit on the viewing platform, you need at least mid-Hidden Strength.”

Zuo Guangshu fanned himself and lowered his voice.

“See the four grand chairs in the front row?”

Shen Xiuhan looked carefully.

Sure enough, the foremost row held four huanghuali armchairs, each draped with a brocade cushion. A small side-table flanked each one, bearing tea and fruit.

Three of the four chairs were still empty. Only the leftmost was occupied.

The man seated there was perhaps forty, his face lean and austere. He wore a broad white robe, a white jade belt at his waist. His bearing was steady as a mountain.

“Who is that?” Shen Xiuhan asked.

Jiang Qinghong answered from beside him, a note of reverence in her voice.

“The Wang family head… Wang Zhidao. His cultivation… is said to have reached mid-Transforming Strength.”

Shen Xiuhan’s gaze sharpened.

Transforming Strength!

In his months of training, he had encountered plenty of Manifest Strength and Hidden Strength fighters.

But Transforming Strength — this was the first he’d ever laid eyes on in the flesh.

The three remaining chairs, he surmised, were reserved for County Magistrate Luo Changming, the Bai clan’s old ancestor Bai Qingcang, and Zhenyue Colonel Zhao Zheng.

A tremor of realization passed through him.

Four Transforming Strength masters gathered in one place. The feast truly commanded that level of gravity.

As he was mulling this over, a clear young woman’s voice sounded from behind.

“Senior Brother Shen…”

Shen Xiuhan turned.

Zuo Guangshu, Jiang Qinghong, Xu Chuan, Xiang Yunting, and the others all swiveled around as well.

At the edge of the milling crowd, two girls stood poised and pretty.

The elder was perhaps fourteen or fifteen, wearing a smoke-blue gauze skirt. Slender and willowy, long-legged, her air carried a touch of cool reserve.

Ji Xue.

The younger was barely twelve or thirteen. Bright-eyed, teeth like pearls, and despite her tender years, the front of her robe was already drawn high and taut — a striking figure that drew more than a few glances.

Ji Yao.

At their side trailed a handsome youth of sixteen or seventeen.

He wore a white robe, a jade belt at his waist, and carried himself with the easy grace of a young gentleman.

Shen Xiuhan’s glance identified him at once.

Wen Beng — the schoolmate who had accompanied Ji Xue and Ji Yao at Wuji Academy.

Under the sudden weight of so many gazes, the Ji sisters’ cheeks flushed, a rosy warmth spreading across their faces.

Zuo Guangshu and the others, seasoned as they were, let their eyes shuttle between the two girls and Shen Xiuhan. Knowing grins tugged at every lip.

“Senior Brooo-ther~”

Xu Chuan pitched his voice into a simpering falsetto, nudged Zuo Guangshu, and waggled his eyebrows.

“Maybe we should go watch the fun somewhere else — wouldn’t want to stand here like a sore thumb and spoil anyone’s moment!”

Zuo Guangshu SNAPPED his fan shut, fighting down laughter, nodding vigorously, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Junior Brother speaks the truth! Let’s be off! Off we go!”

Jiang Qinghong wanted to add a jab of her own, but one look at Shen Xiuhan’s steadily darkening face made her swallow her grin. Lips pressed tight, she herded the others away.

Once they were gone, Ji Xue and Ji Yao exhaled in relief.

With the audience dispersed, Ji Yao’s shyness faded and her boldness resurfaced.

She sidled up, caught the hem of Shen Xiuhan’s sleeve between her fingers, gave it a little shake, and tilted her face upward — eyes brimming with hope.

“Senior Brother Shen, it’s so exciting today — will you walk around with us?”

Shen Xiuhan had intended to wait quietly for the feast to begin, observing the competition and sizing up potential opponents.

But on second thought — with the lakeside crawling with every sort of riffraff, if some fool with more muscle than sense jostled the girls, it would only cause trouble.

Out of a Patrol Envoy’s instinct, he weighed it briefly and nodded.

The two girls beamed. They led him away from the stands and down a winding path along the shore toward a nearby birch grove.

The grove was noticeably quieter.

Tall white birches stood ruler-straight, their bark silver as snow. Sunlight filtered through gaps in the canopy and scattered across the ground in shards of gold.

Lake wind threaded through the trees, carrying a clean sweetness that lifted the spirit.

Along the way, Wen Beng stepped forward to offer Shen Xiuhan a courteous greeting, his manner warm and eager.

No sense refusing a smiling face.

Shen Xiuhan kept his expression neutral and exchanged a few pleasantries.

“Brother Shen, do you remember Ma Jinghang — the fellow who joined us that time?”

“Of course.”

Shen Xiuhan’s gaze flickered, his tone unchanged. “He was the eldest son of the Ma Trading House, if I recall.”

Wen Beng sighed.

“That’s right. But he… died about ten days ago. Drank too much at a brothel, they say, and fell into a ditch on the way home. Drowned. Just like that…”

“A pity.”

Shen Xiuhan shook his head.

“It truly is… Ma Jinghang had more talent for martial arts than I do. If he were still alive, he might well have broken through to Blood Tempering by now…”

Wen Beng sighed again and again, the very picture of sorrow.

Shen Xiuhan, however, saw through it clearly.

The words were all on the surface. Not a trace of genuine grief touched those eyes.

The real purpose…

Was to move the Ji sisters standing beside them.

Sure enough — Ji Xue and Ji Yao murmured a few consoling words.

Wen Beng wore sorrow on the outside and satisfaction on the inside.

The four strolled along the path, chatting as they went. They hadn’t covered much ground when —

Up ahead, a burst of loud, shameless laughter rang out.

Four or five young men in martial attire, sabers and swords at their waists, arrogant eyes — came striding toward them.

The four trailed like satellites around the one at their center, a youth in lavish brocade.

He was in his early twenties, tall, features passably handsome, though his brow and eyes carried a streak of overbearing swagger.

He wore a sapphire brocade robe with gold-thread cloud embroidery, a jade belt at his waist, and fast-boots on his feet — unmistakably high-born.

The two groups met face to face.

The brocade youth’s steps halted. His gaze locked instantly onto the Ji sisters, eyes blazing with predatory light.

His lips peeled back in a leer. Undisguised greed and lust seeped from his expression, and his voice oozed with insinuation.

“Well, well — who do we have here? If it isn’t the Ji sisters, Xue and Yao. Haven’t seen you in ages — you’ve grown even lovelier.”

The two girls’ faces changed. They retreated half a step instinctively, sheltering at Shen Xiuhan’s side.

Ji Yao’s voice trembled. She whispered rapidly.

“Senior Brother Shen… that’s Luo Wancheng, from the Luo clan. He’s always had it in for our family. Blocking our path with his men like this — he’s up to no good!”

Luo Wancheng…

Shen Xiuhan’s mind stirred.

Last night, the two Luo clan names Ji Zhong had mentioned — one of them was exactly this.

Beside him, Wen Beng’s thoughts raced. Fancying himself a scion of standing, and eager to play the hero before a pair of beauties, he stepped forward with a smile.

“This gentleman — I am Wen Beng of Changshui County. Might I ask for the courtesy of—”

“Courtesy? For you?”

Luo Wancheng eyed him up and down with a sidelong sneer, then scoffed.

“And what gutter did you crawl out of? You think you rate my courtesy? Out of the way!”

Wen Beng’s face froze, his smile locking in place, flushing from white to red and back again.

He clenched his teeth and played his card, his voice jumping an octave.

“I am the grandson of the renowned physician Wen Songling of Changshui County! I would ask the gentleman to stay his hand and not let a misunderstanding spoil the peace!”

“Wen Songling…”

Luo Wancheng grunted, a flicker of recognition crossing his eyes.

Swaggering as he was, even he knew better than to cross a famous physician’s network.

The Wen family of Changshui County had practiced medicine for generations, maintaining ties with powers on every side. Injuring Wen Songling’s grandson would indeed be troublesome.

Luo Wancheng’s expression didn’t shift, but his tone softened by a fraction.

“Wen the physician’s grandson, is it? Fine — today’s business has nothing to do with you. Walk away, and I won’t make it difficult.”

Wen Beng, emboldened, straightened his back and raised his voice.

“What I mean, sir, is that both these young ladies are my schoolmates. If you’d kindly give me face and let us turn swords into—”

“Don’t push your luck!”

Before he could finish, Luo Wancheng’s patience snapped.

BANG!

A flick of his toe launched a chunk of loose stone like a hidden weapon, shrieking through the air.

FWOOSH!

The stone grazed Wen Beng’s temple, the force-wind shearing off a few strands of hair that drifted to the ground.

Its momentum unspent, the stone smashed into a birch trunk behind him — CRACK — showering bark-chips and leaving a deep dent.

GULP…

Wen Beng swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. His legs went to jelly beneath him.

He hadn’t even opened Blood Tempering. His weapons had always been status and name-dropping.

Others, knowing him as Wen Songling’s kin, were usually happy to give face.

But Luo Wancheng was the kind of man who simply didn’t care.

A scholar meeting a soldier, indeed.

For one terrifying heartbeat, Wen Beng had felt his head leave his shoulders — nearly gone to join Ma Jinghang on the other side.

“Scram!”

Luo Wancheng’s bark was a whip-crack. “Don’t make me say it twice!”

Wen Beng’s face cycled through shades of purple. His lips quivered. He wanted to speak but nothing came.

After a frozen moment, he bit down, lowered his head, and shuffled two steps backward — eyes fixed on the ground.

“Wen Beng — you!”

Ji Yao stared in disbelief, her tiny fists balled tight, her teeth grinding audibly.

Ji Xue’s eyes flashed with disappointment. Her red lips pressed thin, and she didn’t spare the white-robed boy another glance.

But the danger loomed. She forced down the turmoil in her chest, drew a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and called out in a clear, sharp voice.

“Luo Wancheng! In broad daylight — what do you think you’re doing?!”

Ahead.

Luo Wancheng and his pack had already closed in, step by menacing step.

Hearing Ji Xue’s challenge, the lust in his eyes only intensified. His grin stretched ear to ear, baring teeth.

“What am I doing?”

“This grove is nice and quiet — no one around to bother us. Naturally, this young master would like to invite the two young ladies for a… deeper discussion. A bit of fun. What do you say?”

“Ha ha ha! Well said, Young Master Luo!”

“These two little fillies — skin like silk — just right for our Young Master to show some tender affection!”

“Look at those faces, those figures — tsk, tsk, tsk…”

The lackeys erupted in filthy, braying laughter. Their eyes crawled shamelessly over the two girls, back and forth, like starving wolves sizing up lambs.

“Come here, pretty thing — come talk to your big brother Wancheng…”

Luo Wancheng licked his lips, shifted his footing, and reached for Ji Xue.

“You’re asking for it!”

Shen Xiuhan, silent until now, let his gaze go cold. One step — and he closed the distance in an instant.