Chapter 89

Metal clanged.

A thin, clear sound filled the air, but before the sound could even fade the golden light had vanished.

A flash of blood red struck the flat of the mace, Gu Nanyi’s jade sword slapping down the blunt weapon just as it was about to strike.

The golden mace was bulky metal, and the jade light and thin. Gu Nanyi’s mastery of his weapon and his astonishing internal force and coordination was on full display.

Helian Zheng’s face fell.

The gathered valiants all took a collective gasp.

Feng Zhiwei was sitting casually by the stone table, hiding under the eaves from the piercing sun, idly imaging Gu Nanyi’s red sword as the pole to the yellow mace lollipop. She tapped her fingers, wondering if she should replicate the notebook’s lollipop for Servant Girl Gu.

The Jade Sword was pierced through both of the maces, stringing them together as if on a chain. San Sun’s face was deathly pale as Gu Nanyi flicked his hand, a red flash cutting the golden weapons in half as two became four.

Finally, he nudged one of the golden halves aside, lazily turning.

San Sun kneeled to pick up one of the mace halves and roared, shooting forward and attacking.

Servant Girl Gu did not even turn his head, kicking again, red light flashing once more, and four became eight.

San Sun rolled back, standing again with a golden eighth, pouncing forward once more.

Servant Girl Gu kicked again and the mace eighth shattered and scattered in the air.

San Sun fell, spitting out broken teeth. He reached up to his mouth and pulled out an offending dangler, jumping up and stamping down on the tooth. Finally, he turned and grabbed a stone stool, shouting and recklessly attacking once more.

“Enough!” Helian Zheng crushed his tea cup, scolding angrily: “San Sun, enough! You’ve lost!”

“No!” San Sun roared in ferocious denial. “I can lose, I can even die, but my master can never call a Central Plains girl aunt!”

His words finished, he moved again, smashing the stone stool down on Gu Nanyi’s head. Young Master Gu turned, looping both San Sun’s head and his stone stool under his arm as he pressed down against himself, shattering the stone stool and covering San Sun’s bloody face with stone fragment ash before tossing the man away like a bag of rice.

San Sun landed heavily, and when his feet failed him, he crawled forward, reaching for Gu Nanyi’s foot.

His dirty face ate dirt as he crawled forward on the dusty and bloodied ground, his eyes filling with the blood of his wounds.

He’d rather die than let his master suffer humiliation.

Feng Zhiwei was moved.

She had not expected Helian Zheng’s followers to be so loyal, and if she allowed this fiasco to continue, Helian Zheng would surely oppose her to the ends of hell.

After a moment of hesitation, she Calle Gu Nanyi back, planning to end the fight as a tie. Helian Zheng was a clever man, and he would take the loss and stop bothering her.

But Servant Girl Gu ignored her gesture, slowly turning back to face San Sun, his veil hanging motionless.

Feng Zhiwei paused with surprise, her heart filled with wonder. Was Young Master Gu angry?

He could actually get angry? Since when?

Before she could even fish her thought, San Sun had grabbed onto Gu Nanyi’s leg and was biting downwards just as a jade sword flashed down, striking like lightning.

“Cha.”

A blurred shadow shot over and blocked Gu Nanyi’s sword just as it was about to strike.

A man held a stone stool, blocking the thin jade sword, his whole body trembling as he held up the makeshift weapon against the weight of the blow, but his smiling face and dancing brows showed no sign off his struggle as he spoke: “We’ve lost! I accept it!”

San Sun’s face filled with tears as he tried to bite down, only for Helian Zheng to kick him aside.

Gu Nanyi’s jade sword was still pressed downward, unrelenting, cutting through the stone stool and splitting Helian Zheng’s robe, sending his trousers to his ankles.

Helian Zheng acted as if nothing had happened, casually being his robe together, his eyes bright as he examined Gu Nanyi with praise: “Impressive!”

Then he turned, walking over to Feng Zhiwei and examining her as well. Finally, he bowed deeply, calling out loudly: “Aunt!”

In her surprise, Feng Zhiwei crushed the walnut in her hand.

He really did it!

“The expert also has a bet.” Helian Zheng continued, no sign of embarrassment on his face as he turned calmly to Gu Nanyi. “Speak, and we will honor it.”

Feng Zhiwei was growing worried. Servant Girl Gu was not his normal self and Feng Zhiwei had no idea what he would demand, and she could only pray that he would not go overboard.

Gu Nanyi calmly pointed to the salt beside them.

“The losers have to eat the betrothal gifts.”

“...”

Silence filled the yard as Feng Zhiwei crushed another walnut...

Helian Zheng turned his head to regard the bags of salt, staring for a long moment at Gu Nanyi. His eyes glittered as he laughed, turning over and grabbing a bag of salt and beginning to eat.

“Your Highness, no, let us! Let us eat!” The Eight Valiants stirred from their stunned silence and rushed forward, fighting for the salt bag in their Prince’s hand.

The courtyard could only watch in astonishment as the steppe warriors fought over the salt, all of them floored by the strange turns that the day had taken...

After swallowing down the bags of salt, each of the Ba Biao warriors were pale beyond belief with only Helian Zheng still a normal color. The man seemed indomitable in toughness and strength, and after brushing away the dust and salt on his robes, he tightened his makeshift belt and stepped forward again, his powerful thighs peeking through his cut robes as he approached Feng Zhiwei.

Feng Zhiwei calmly returned the man’s gaze, her eyes narrowing in a smile: “The steppe men really have impressed this aunt!”

Impossibly, the eight valiants went even more pale, but Helian Zheng smiled.

His smile was different from his usual expression, his amber, purple eyes flashing with playfulness and cunning, as if the eyes of a steppe fox emerging from his nest to hunt the night.

He patted his clothes once more, walking away. As he exited the courtyard, he turned his head, his voice hoarse from swallowing salt: “I forgot to mention... in our steppe tribe, we can marry our aunts.”

“...”

Good news never left the house while bad rumors spread across the land; the news quickly spread that the Hu Zhuo Prince had visited Qiu Mansion seeking a marriage alliance with General Qiu’s niece, but he was forced away with dust on his nose. In the span of days, all of Dijing and the Imperial Court had heard the rumor.

What had exactly happened, nobody knew. It was only known that the famous Ba Biao had miserably retreated from the Qiu Mansion, and that for many days after, the Hu Zhuo Prince could not speak, communicating only with gestures that nobody could understand.