1163: Chapter 373 Disappointed People in the World 1163: Chapter 373 Disappointed People in the World No matter how talented Lin Xian is, his life or death has no impact on Sumr Country.
The small Rong Country, thousands of miles away, is also of no concern to Sumr Country.
But his life or death could have a bit of an impact on Qi Country.
A living Lin Xian may not necessarily cause trouble for Qi Country.
Talents from small countries like him have appeared countless tis in history, and few have managed to influence the regional situation.
However, with a talent like Lin Xian, Rong Country at least has the potential to trouble Qi Country.
And that’s enough.
A possibility is enough to hold back the hand ready to kill out of sympathy.
Being a talent who stands out in a vast country like Sumr Country that extends for thousands of miles, Chumo would not be swayed by fleeting emotions.
Against talents from other small countries, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill.
But Lin Xian is different.
The talent displayed by Lin Xian ans sothing extraordinary for Rong Country.
Chumo does not sympathize with Rong Country, nor does he pity Lin Xian, but he deeply detests Qi Country.
If killing Lin Xian pleases the people of Qi Country, then he will certainly not do it.
Even if Sumr Country has been gritting its teeth for decades, it indeed cannot rival Qi Country at present.
But with more “possibilities” like Rong Country, bit by bit, year over year, gnawing away, it’s not impossible to bring down this behemoth.
A thousand-mile dike can fail because of an ant’s nest.
If Yang Country could be destroyed in the past, then why not Qi Country?
Chumo tilted his head, letting the ghost-faced bat return to his ear, and reached out to pick up the scattered pieces of the puppet from the ground.
Without another glance at Lin Xian.
He just stood on the Arena, stared deeply at the prodigy of Qi Country in the stands, and then turned around, walking down from the High Platform alone.
Just wait…
He thought.
No matter what, he had won this match.
Although there was no chance of taking the top title, there was still a chance to advance to the main competition.
If he could save his last trick, he might create a “surprise” in the main competition.
Even advancing one more round would give a bit more say.
Aside from him, Sumr Country had other prodigies participating in the competitions of the Outer Building, with no age restrictions, and the hope of taking the title was not entirely extinguished.
By comparison, Lin Xian, who fought fiercely to carve out a sliver of hope for Rong Country, was utterly defeated.
Rong Country had hidden their prodigy for so long, hoping to astonish all at the Yellow River Gathering, but ended up stopping at the preliminary selection.
Though not dead, it might be no less painful than death.
On the Guanhe Platform, Rong Country’s only prodigy returned without achievent – it’s a complete despair.
Yet at this assembly of Various Countries, prodigies compete.
Anyone who cos to the Guanhe Platform is a celebrated genius of their own country.
Who doesn’t have their own story, their own perseverance?
Who hasn’t fought through thorns and defeated countless opponents to reach this stage, under the gaze of the world?
So, who would willingly accept defeat?
It’s still just the victors standing and the losers falling.
Everyone has reasons they cannot lose, but in the end, soone must.
Is Lin Xian the only one disappointed in the world?
…
…
Night has fallen, in Mu Street.
“Ru Cheng, the selection has started, aren’t you going to watch?” Yuwen Ze entered, flipping the curtain and speaking carelessly.
At that mont, Zhao Rucheng was sitting in front of a desk, holding a slim brush, carefully painting on a scroll.
That heavy bronze mask was placed on the upper left corner of the desk, hence his handso face was fully visible under the light.
Upon hearing, he simply said, “The main competition hasn’t started yet, what’s there to watch.”
Yuwen Ze leaned in to look: “Who are these five people you’re painting?
Why don’t you paint their faces?”
“You know nothing of the art of painting,” Zhao Rucheng shot him a glance, his words heavy with implication.
“In this world, so people have faces, while others do not.”
As if completely oblivious, Yuwen Ze’s face broke into an innocent, guileless grin as he affectionately complained, “Look at you, saying you want to et heroes from all around and yet you spend all day cooped up inside.
If you’re not painting indecipherable pictures, you’re imrsed in never-ending cultivation!
How utterly dull!”
Zhao Rucheng smiled slightly, “Please go back and tell the Princess that I’m in the midst of cultivation and have no free ti.”
“Look at what you’re saying, what does this have to do with the Princess?” Yuwen Ze continued with his goofy smile tactic, “I’m the one who wants to watch the competition with you!”
Zhao Rucheng didn’t even lift his head and softly spat out one word: “Leave.”
“Alrighty!” Yuwen Ze, who had barely sat down, promptly stood up again, “Continue with your painting, Ye Gai.
I’ll call for you when the official match starts.”
The man ca and went in a flurry.
Zhao Rucheng seed entirely unaffected, his hand never stopping as he detailed the clothing of one of the figures.
It was a simple and clean robe.
He added a patch onto it.
As he was outlining it, he suddenly paused his pen and lifted his head.
The bronze mask was already covering his face.
Only then did footsteps approaching from afar begin to sound, and a robust woman’s voice cried outside the door, “Young Master Zhao.”
“Co in,” Zhao Rucheng called out.
Yuwen Family’s “maid” walked in.
She was a woman as broad as a barrel, with children as old as Zhao Rucheng, adept at herding sheep and cutting grass, but as for serving others…
Before her arrival, Yuwen Ze had arranged for a lively and beautiful maid to attend to Zhao Rucheng.
After Helian Yuyun’s appearance, she was replaced by this woman.
Yuwen Ze repeatedly claid it was his own idea, not wanting to distract Rucheng Yeshua during his cultivation…
Zhao Rucheng expressed his belief and then gave Yuwen Ze a good beating.
But Yuwen Ze, the tough man of the steppes, refused to switch maids for anything, intent on allowing Ye Gai to concentrate on his cultivation.
And so, this Auntie Niu was settled on.
Over ti, Zhao Rucheng grew accustod…
Auntie Niu was good, she wouldn’t disturb him for no reason.
“Young Master,” Auntie Niu ca into the tent, holding out a small box about half a foot in length, “Soone asked to give you this gift.”
Zhao Rucheng inquired, “Who?”
“I don’t recognize them,” Auntie Niu shook her head, “They said you’d know once you saw it.”
Zhao Rucheng looked toward the tea table in the tent and instructed, “Put it on the table.”
Auntie Niu walked over, placed the box on the tea table, and then turned to leave.
She worked efficiently, without dragging her feet.
Only after Auntie Niu was far away did Zhao Rucheng flick his finger and the box sprang open.
From a distance of five steps, he quietly watched the box on the tea table.
Inside the box…
Lay a finger.
A finger twisted and bent in the wrong direction.
Zhao Rucheng was silent for a very long ti before he approached the tea table.
Below that finger in the box, there was also a note pressed underneath.
Zhao Rucheng was silent once more, then flicked another finger wind to roll up the note, suspending it in mid-air.
Now, the note faced him directly.
Zhao Rucheng, wearing the bronze mask of a malevolent spirit and with a buzz cut, seed to be face-to-face with the person behind this note.
Separated by a thin sheet of paper, the distant night.
The note, written in neat handwriting, read three lines—
“The person is not dead.”
“Fertility Country’s Fengcheng, Cloud Guest Inn awaits you.”
“Fail to et, fail to part.”
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