CRACK.
Yang Hu rotated his neck, producing a series of crackling sounds like popping beans.
The greasy middle-aged man who had spoken most harshly turned pale. He shrank back, but his words remained sharp. "Since you're here to apologize, you should adopt the proper attitude."
His arrogance stemd entirely from the Xiao Family and the as-yet-unseen Steward from the Biluo Sword Valley. Being singled out at this mont, he was more than a little intimidated.
"Kid, you'd better realize where you are!" Xiao Ziquan shifted his posture slightly, his razor-sharp gaze locked onto Chen Yang. "You probably have no idea how formidable the Biluo Sword Valley is!"
"Instead of kneeling obediently, you dare to run your mouth. I think you're tired of living."
Yang Hu gave him a sidelong glance, a wicked smile touching his lips.
Chen Yang exhaled a puff of smoke and asked Yang Hu casually, "Counting the days, hasn't it been a while since you've had a fight?"
"Indeed." Yang Hu cocked his head, thinking for a mont. He pulled a pair of white silk gloves from his back pocket and began putting them on. "Shall we indulge ourselves today?"
Chen Yang smiled.
An inexplicable dread washed over the onlookers. Seeing the exchange, their expressions turned unnatural. The greasy middle-aged man, in particular, subconsciously shuffled backward, trying to hide behind the others.
Xiao Ziquan sneered. "Hmph! It's not that I look down on you, but if you think you can..."
WHOOSH!
Before the Young Master could finish, Yang Hu lunged forward. His huge palm shot out and grabbed the greasy middle-aged man. With a flex of his forearm, he flung the man through the air. The man flew several ters before crashing heavily at Chen Yang's feet.
THUMP.
The middle-aged man's face contorted in pain. Large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. As he struggled to lift his head, his gaze t Chen Yang's indifferent eyes. The harsh words that were on the tip of his tongue were forcibly swallowed; he couldn't utter a single one.
Yang Hu strode back, kicked the man flat, and stepped on his face. "Who were you cursing?"
"I... I..." The middle-aged man was on the verge of a breakdown. Isn't this guy here to apologize? What in the world is he doing? And why ?!
SLAP!
Xiao Ziquan slamd his palm on the coffee table. He shoved his chair aside and shot to his feet, pointing at Chen Yang. "You're insolent!"
"Have you forgotten why you're here?" Xiao Ziquan said coldly. "I'm ordering you to release him. Now."
BOOM!
Without another word, Yang Hu kicked out again. The middle-aged man went sliding across the floor. If Xiao Ziquan hadn't dodged in ti, the man would have slamd right into him. Even so, when the man hit the wall, splattering blood stained Xiao Ziquan's clothes.
"Who else spoke up?" Yang Hu's blazing, tiger-like eyes swept across the room.
Xiao Ziquan was speechless. The rest of the crowd fell silent. What on earth were they trying to do?
HISS.
Many people subconsciously sucked in a sharp breath. It was becoming clear that this Forr Supre Martial Commander wasn't here to apologize, but rather... The re thought made their scalps tingle with fear. That was a Steward from the Biluo Sword Valley, after all. Was this man so arrogant that he failed to understand the power he was facing?
THUD, THUD, THUD.
A series of slow, deliberate footsteps echoed from the second floor, growing steadily louder.
Chen Yang turned, his gaze falling upon a middle-aged man who had just appeared at the top of the stairs. He had sharp eyebrows and stellar eyes, wore a white robe, and carried a three-foot longsword on his back. His square-jawed face was completely devoid of expression.
One had to admit, he possessed a certain otherworldly air.
It was none other than Fan Qingfeng, a Steward of the Biluo Sword Valley.
Walking beside Fan Qingfeng was another man of about forty. With his hands clasped behind his back and a faint, smug smile on his lips, he looked down on Chen Yang from his superior position.
"This bearing of his... it does have a touch of our Chen Family's essence," the middle-aged man, Chen Junhua, remarked with a hint of emotion before shaking his head. "What a pity. He is, after all, the descendant of a criminal and will never be accepted by the Chen Family."
Fan Qingfeng's eyebrows twitched. "Two disciples from my Biluo Sword Valley died at the hands of soone like this?" he asked indifferently.
"That's him." Chen Junhua was the first to walk down the stairs, his gaze fixed on Chen Yang the entire ti.
He was here not only to et Fan Qingfeng; more importantly, he was here for Chen Yang. Now that Chen Hua was temporarily occupied with the experts from the other great Imperial Clans, he, as a mber of the Chen Family, saw an opportunity. If he could eliminate Chen Yang here today, or even capture him and bring him back to the family, it would be like pulling the rug out from under Chen Hua's feet.
By then, the situation would be irreversible. What could the Demon Monarch Chen Hua do in his fury? With the entire Chen Family backing him, not even the Demon Monarch Chen Hua could touch him.
Perhaps this great ritorious deed is destined to be mine.
The smile on Chen Junhua's face widened.
"Steward Fan, Lord Chen, please, have so tea." Xiao Ziquan and his father, the Xiao Family Head Xiao Yunyi, rushed to greet them. The others all bowed respectfully.
Chen Junhua flicked his robes aside and sat down. He accepted a cup of tea and began sipping it leisurely. Today, there was no need for him to lift a finger; he just had to sit and watch.
"I have heard of your past, Zhennan Prince, Supre Martial Commander." Fan Qingfeng settled gracefully into his seat. "It is no great injustice that Gu Qing and Gu Liangren died by your hand. But the people of my Biluo Sword Valley are not to be killed so casually."
Fan Qingfeng raised a broad, callused hand—one clearly shaped by years of wielding a sword—and pointed it at Chen Yang. "Kneel. Cripple your own cultivation. Then you may follow and live as my dog."
Xiao Ziquan quickly chid in, "Steward Fan has told you to kneel! Why are you just standing there? To have your life spared and be allowed to serve as his dog is a trendous honor for you, Chen Yang."
"Don't be ungrateful." With that, Xiao Ziquan moved to stand behind Fan Qingfeng, holding a teapot with a deferential air.
Chen Junhua laughed. "You were ant to die today. The fact that Steward Fan has taken an interest in you and is willing to take you in as his dog is an imnse blessing. Aren't you going to thank him imdiately?"
"You have no idea how many people dream of just setting foot in the Biluo Sword Valley to breathe a single whiff of its Immortal Qi. Yet you have been given this chance so easily... tsk, tsk."
As soon as he finished speaking, a wave of shock washed over the room. All eyes turned to Chen Yang, filled with unconcealed envy and jealousy.
He was already being hunted by the Four Great Imperial Clans. If he followed Steward Fan, not only would he be free from their pursuit, but he would also gain entry into the Biluo Sword Valley.
He would be a dog, yes, but the most envied dog in the world! In this vast mortal world, among the teeming masses, countless people dread of the chance to serve soone from the Biluo Sword Valley, even as a dog.
"I can't believe his misfortune turned into a blessing. I'm so jealous."
"What a lucky bastard."
As the crowd murmured among themselves, Xiao Ziquan saw that Chen Yang remained motionless. He strode forward, puffing out his chest, and looked down his nose at Chen Yang. "What's the matter? Are you deaf?"
Fan Qingfeng blew lightly at the tea leaves floating in his cup. "Hurry up," he said, his tone casual. "Don't waste my ti."
Xiao Ziquan licked his lips, his smile turning bloodthirsty and cruel.
The rest of the people present, without exception, wore expressions of schadenfreude, their eyes wide open, not wanting to miss the most exciting mont.
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