Chapter One Hundred Fifty-Eight: The Strange Man
That night.
To keep the peace in their lives for the next few days, Chun Lan and Young Master Sang set some rules and temporarily reached a settlement.
First, Young Master Sang couldn’t do anything against Gu Yingmian and Qiu Ju’s wishes.
Second, Chun Lan could not shout in Young Master Sang’s head unless there was an emergency.
Finally, Young Master Sang wouldn’t do anything to harm the interests of the Sword Flower Palace; otherwise, Chun Lan could spill the beans to Gu Yingmian as soon as she got back into her body.
With these conditions in place, Chun Lan reluctantly calmed down, still a bit skeptical.
Young Master Sang finally got a good night’s sleep.
After all, tomorrow he’d be going on a date with Gu Yingmian.
——
——
It was called a date, but it was really just aimless wandering.
Young Master Sang had very little experience dating girls, so he tried to recall the feelings from his honeymoon with Zhang Xiaoying, hoping to pick a few romantic spots to explore together.
In the end, the best place nearby was the peak of the Yaochi Tianshan.
The view must have been old news to Gu Yingmian.
After a headache-inducing deliberation, Young Master Sang opted to continue wandering around with Gu Yingmian instead.
After all, she seemed to show more interest in shopping.
This time, they chose a slightly farther location—a town called Chen Zhou, which was a bit distant from Yaochi Tianshan.
Since it was far from the Sword Flower Palace, this area didn’t belong to its jurisdiction but instead was controlled by some lesser-known sects.
In a larger prefecture city, the hustle and bustle was much stronger.
As they entered the town, the throngs of people made Gu Yingmian a bit uncomfortable.
It was Young Master Sang who took the initiative to hold her hand.
“Don’t worry, let’s go.”
Gu Yingmian obediently followed him.
The market in Chen Zhou was obviously much larger than that of a small town. The roads were wide, the buildings and residences splendid, and they could see academies, arenas, and high-walled courtyards.
Even Young Master Sang rarely visited these larger prefecture cities.
After all, sects like the Sword Flower Palace generally wouldn’t be located close to mortals, unlike aristocratic families.
But Gu Yingmian seemed even more curious than him. Everything around them was a potential reason for her to pause.
The wares of street vendors, the roadside snacks, the playful children.
Even a group of old men playing chess beneath a drooping willow caught her eye, making her want to watch them.
She was like a curious little kid.
“Are these things new to you?”
“Not really,” Gu Yingmian thought for a moment before shaking her head, “but they feel quite fresh.”
“I’ve seen many different mortals over the years.”
“But I’ve never closely observed their lives like today.”
“They seem to be living quite happily.” She looked at the old men engrossed in their game, tilting her head in confusion. “Is playing chess as enjoyable as practicing swordplay?”
“It’s different for everyone, I suppose,” Young Master Sang smiled. “Perhaps playing chess is like swordsmanship for you.”
Gu Yingmian nodded.
But Young Master Sang could tell that once her initial excitement faded, she would probably find it boring.
What she was really interested in was sword practice.
However, an idea struck Young Master Sang, and he pulled her closer. “By the way, didn’t I just see that there’s a martial arts competition hosted by a noble family over there? They’re recruiting guest disciples?”
“Let’s go take a look.”
Gu Yingmian nodded.
It seemed like she would unconditionally follow whatever Young Master Sang suggested.
…
In an incredibly grand and opulent mansion in the east of the city.
As they entered, there was a vast plaza filled with a crowd of spectators eager to watch the spectacle.
Young Master Sang quietly led Gu Yingmian closer to the front.
On the stage, it appeared that two people were sparring.
One was a tall, slender man swinging a large iron-bladed sabre with wild abandon. The other was a robust, bald fellow wearing a knuckle duster.
The two were exchanging blows vigorously, and the uninformed audience cheered enthusiastically.
Of course, Young Master Sang and Gu Yingmian could see that these two were merely at the Qi Refinement stage, considered nothing more than brute mortals, not even real cultivators.
Their fight was simply a chaotic spectacle for entertainment.
On the other end of the stage, a middle-aged man seated on a high platform sipping tea looked significantly more dignified.
Before long, the fight concluded with the tall, slim man getting battered into a bloody mess and crashing off the stage.
In the midst of cheers, the bald man roared, “Who’s next?”
What a commanding presence!
It turned out that the bald man was stronger just by virtue of being balder, Young Master Sang mused internally.
But when his gaze casually flicked to the side, he suddenly noticed an eager glint in Gu Yingmian’s eyes.
He was taken aback. “Uh, Gu Jie?”
“You’re not really thinking of going up there, are you?”
“Why not?” Gu Yingmian tilted her head in confusion.
“It’s just… this is a small family recruiting guest disciples, and those who’d join are mostly just Qi Refinement folks. Having a Foundation Establishment cultivator would be like hitting the jackpot.”
Young Master Sang’s lips twitched. “What do you plan to do up there? Blast a spirit bomb and send your opponent along with their entire family packing?”
The spirit bomb might even be too mild.
Young Master Sang still remembered Feng Xu Mountain, where one sword aura from far away split the entire mountain in two, a truly terrifying scene.
If Gu Yingmian went crazy here, with a single sword stroke…
The entire town would probably send the ancestors up in a hurry.
Gu Yingmian pouted, looking bored and lowering her gaze.
It had to be said, Gu Yingmian rarely displayed such emotional expressions.
This time, just like last time when she was in her palace, utterly lost and crying.
It made Young Master Sang find her oddly adorable.
Her luscious lips formed a cute pout, the expression on her face was one of displeasure, and her gaze shifted to the side, giving Young Master Sang the impression that she was throwing a little tantrum at him.
“Uh, Gu Jie really wants to go up, huh?”
“Not really.” Gu Yingmian looked up at the fighters on stage, blinking. “I just see them fighting and having so much fun; it makes my hands itch a bit.”
That’s right.
Almost forgot, this sister was a purebred combat fiend.
Who would run all the way to a promotion ceremony just to brawl? Not a normal person.
“Well, if worst comes to worst,” Young Master Sang said, “I could go up there and have a little fun in your place.”
“After all, I may have inherited my father’s swordplay, but my cultivation is just a small Foundation Establishment level. It’s not too much of an unfair match.”
As soon as she heard this, Gu Yingmian’s eyes brightened.
“You want to go? I want to watch.”
“Actually, there’s not much to see. My swordsmanship level is what it is; even winning a couple of levels would be a mess—”
“I want to see what you look like without a sword.”
Young Master Sang: “?”
Looking at Gu Yingmian’s burning gaze, Young Master Sang realized she just wanted to see him make a fool of himself.
Since she couldn’t use swordsmanship herself, she was eager to witness his embarrassing moments instead.
“Fine.”
Young Master Sang sighed quietly. “If I don’t have to use a sword, then I guess that’s fine. I probably won’t even face a Foundation Establishment cultivator anyway—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the previously brash bald man suddenly fell right in front of him, spewing a mouthful of blood.
Young Master Sang looked at the bald man, beaten to a pulp, and then slowly raised his gaze to the stage.
At some point, the stage had been taken over by a thin, morbidly quiet-looking man whose eyes were sunken, exuding a vaguely sinister energy, almost as if he had been on drugs for years.
Yet his yellowed teeth gave a chilling smile.
“Anyone else want to die?”
Young Master Sang surveyed this man in disbelief.
No question about it.
This guy was a Foundation Establishment cultivator.
And looking at the bald man’s pitiful state, this guy must be extremely experienced in real combat.
Talk about being so unlucky that even a sip of cold water gets stuck in your teeth.
Young Master Sang turned to find Gu Yingmian’s innocent, bright eyes waiting expectantly for him to step on stage.
“…Sigh, fine.”
With an exasperated sigh, Young Master Sang walked up to the stage under everyone’s gaze.
Seeing a young man coming up, the spectators began to murmur among themselves.
The thin man shot him a condescending look, narrowing his eyes.
“What kind of little brat is this? Don’t you know that challenging Grandfather Wei Luo could cost you your life?”
“I don’t want to.” Young Master Sang sighed again, “But if it weren’t for life’s hardships, who would want to get on stage?”
Wei Luo, the ominous man, raised an eyebrow.
“…Dude, are you also being hunted down and have nowhere to go?”
“Uh, not really.”
Young Master Sang said sincerely, “I’m being forced by my wife.”
Wei Luo: “?”
Just as the middle-aged man on the high platform began to speak, Wei Luo pulled out a dagger that flickered ominously, grinning wickedly at Young Master Sang.
“Doesn’t matter why, just make sure you’re prepared now that you’re on stage.”
Young Master Sang glanced at his imposing dagger.
Then, he looked longingly at Gu Yingmian.
She had a bright smile on her face.
Then she tossed him a brick.
Young Master Sang: “?”
Wei Luo: “?”
“Good luck.” She blinked and gently cheered.
Young Master Sang stared at the brick in his hand, utterly speechless, as he turned to face Wei Luo.
Wei Luo: “…Your girl is pretty ruthless.”
Young Master Sang: “You can say that again.”
“Are you really going to use that thing against me?”
“I’ve got no choice.”
“Heh, well kid, I won’t go easy on you.” Wei Luo sneered, and in a flash, he lunged towards Young Master Sang’s side.
The cold gleam of the dagger streaked towards him, aimed directly for his vital points, as if about to slice his throat.
Many people in the audience gasped at the sudden ferocity of the attack, unable to believe that one moment these two were casually chatting, and the next, it turned murderous without any extenuating circumstances.
Yet, in the blink of an eye, that swift strike still missed.
Wei Luo hadn’t expected Young Master Sang to dodge so effortlessly.
That movement… could it be a disciple from a prestigious sect?
Meanwhile, Young Master Sang, having nimbly avoided the strike, started to ponder.
…Oh?
Demon Cultivator?
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