Chapter 24: In Splendid Appearance Tavern, the Beauty's Wrath

That day, near midday, the sky was high and the clouds clear.

Near the official road of Splendid Appearance County stood an open-front tavern; outside its door hung a high wine curtain, swaying in the wind, with the four clerical characters 'Splendid Appearance Old Store' written on it.

Inside the tavern, the noise of clamor and boiling rose, penetrating right to the outdoors; although this Splendid Appearance County is merely a county of South of the Lake, it leans north against the Long River and south borders Cavern Courtyard.

Crossing the river from here, one reaches North of the Lake; to the east is Mountain Peak Sunny, to the west is Benefit Sunny.

Such a vital transportation route ought to be thick with people and merchants gathering in clouds, yet the official road outside the tavern door is empty and deserted, hardly seeing any passersby.

Yet although there were no travelers on the road, inside the tavern every seat was filled; a few waiters bustled back and forth, serving wine and dishes to guests, busily delighted, this phenomenon was extremely strange.

Sitting in the seat closest to the tavern door was a man about forty years old, with a waxen yellow complexion, wearing a wisp of mouse whisker, dressed in black tight-fitting attire, with a single blade hanging at his waist.

Beside him were two bearded, big men wearing waist knives; perhaps drunk and hot-eared, they had undone three or four of the tightly fastened two rows of buttons, revealing chest hair visible at a glance.

As the three talked and laughed, saliva sprayed everywhere; when they raised their cups, the wine bowls clanged noisily; this arrogant demeanor was simply unrestrained and fearless, drawing frequent sideways glances from other tavern patrons, yet no one stepped forward to dissuade them.

At the neighboring table of the three sat two handsome youths wearing long swords at their waists and dressed in splendid attire.

One was about twenty years old, dressed entirely in yellow robes, tall and slender, with starry eyes and sword-like eyebrows, exceptionally handsome.

The other wore white clothes, aged sixteen or seventeen, petite in stature, with a fair complexion; his eyes revealed a hint of charm and allure, lacking any trace of beard or brow vigor, yet compared to those few rough men, his manners and speech displayed an elegant, extraordinary noble bearing.

At another wine table beside the handsome youth sat a short, stout old man, dressed in a blue robe and a soft cap, in the attire of a household servant, whose eyes occasionally swept the surroundings.

As for the other tables, they were also surrounded by people of various heights and ages, some carrying knives, others bearing swords, with bulging pouches at their waists; beside the tables stood various sticks and spears, and their attire differed, clearly they were all individuals from different factions of the martial world.

At that moment came a 'thud'; the big man on the left of the door slammed a wine jar onto the table, shaking the cups and jugs to tumble, and the plates and chopsticks to jump.

He laughed loudly and said, 'Big Brother, our knives also eat human flesh; we merely killed a demonic Daoist—what's there to fear? Don't think it's some great secret known only to us brothers!'

He pointed around and said, 'Do you see? Are these people here just to eat? I'm worried we might have already fallen behind others!'

Saying this, he raised his wine bowl and drank it all in one gulp.

The elder brother sighed deeply and said, 'Brother, it's not just about hot blood; I have personally seen a demonic Daoist—his martial arts were truly formidable! It is said that when struck, his entire body's bones shattered into fragments; his disciple's head was slapped straight into the skull cavity, yet remained perfectly intact.'

In my view, although the Divine Illumination Classic is excellent, this person surnamed Feng is not only no match for us brothers, but even the Southern Four Wonders might not be able to defeat him!

The clamor in the tavern slightly waned, dozens of eyes turned toward him; the second brother, having listened quietly, saw his wild demeanor fade, his expression suddenly changed, and he uttered not a word.

The two handsome youths also slightly changed their expressions, but their reactions differed somewhat.

The yellow-robed youth raised his sword eyebrows and gave a disdainful smile.

On the white-robed youth's pretty face appeared a charming smile; his clear eyes were full of surprise, and his pair of dark, large eyes rolled as he exchanged a glance with the household old man.

The people in the tavern had various expressions, but all of this happened in the blink of an eye.

The second brother silently downed a bowl of wine, then suddenly raised his voice laughing: 'Big Brother, the fame of the Southern Four Wonders shakes far and wide, spreading throughout the martial world—how could we brothers not know? Yet how few are the rumors that spread by mistake in the martial world?'

Take the 'Iron Bone Ink Sepal' Mei Niansheng, for example—everyone says his martial arts are peerless, unrivaled under heaven, his fame surely not inferior to that of the 'Southern Four Wonders, Northern Four Oddities'; yet he died of rage merely because he lost a martial arts secret manual. Heh, this shows that even renowned masters of great fame are often just empty reputations!

Before his words were finished, someone suddenly sneered, 'Wu Lao Er, you are so reckless—do you truly not fear that the wind will slash your tongue?'

The voice was clear and ringing; everyone in the tavern heard it.

Wu Lao Er's face suddenly changed; he slapped the table with a bang, rose abruptly, his face black as if coated in soy‑braised pork liver, his eyes spitting fire, he looked around and shouted sternly, 'Which rat dares to speak here?' As he spoke, a sudden clip‑clop came from outside the tavern; someone glanced toward the window and door, where a slender‑built youth in blue robes rode a large black horse slowly along the official road, and the tavern hands outside called out to greet him.

The second brother paid no heed to this, shouting, 'Since you know my name and dare to speak, you have guts—come out and face me!'

His wild demeanor was fully revealed, truly a mighty and overbearing presence.

The clear voice rang out again in the tavern: 'Your mouth knows no restraint; you ought to be slapped, but considering your drunken boldness and lowly vision, your foolish ignorance, I shall substitute a pair of chopsticks for a palm!'

No sooner had the voice finished than a 'swish'—a straight white light shot straight at Wu Lao Er's big mouth.

By then the tavern patrons had all seen clearly that it was the white‑clad youth who had thrown out a chopstick.

Wu Lao Er was about to block it when a blue silhouette happened to walk in from the doorway.

Speak of delay, act of speed! Seeing that the chopstick would not hit Wu Lao Er, it would instead strike him.

Just then the blue‑clad person raised a hand and waved; with a 'thud', the chopstick inserted itself into the doorframe beside him, penetrating three tenths of its depth.

Someone recognized him as the very blue‑clad rider who had just come leisurely on horseback.

He carried a long sword, entered with dignified bearing, as if oblivious to what had just occurred, as though swatting away a flying chopstick were merely shooing a fly.

All eyes fixed on him; they saw his tall, slender frame, thick brows and straight nose, steady steps, and combined with the skill he had just displayed, everyone unconsciously fell silent.

Everyone felt his aura was imposing, not that of an ordinary person.

The arrival was none other than Feng Yi; he calmly took a seat at the spot that had just been vacated, set down his precious sword, and spoke leisurely, 'Waiter, bring out the finest wine and dishes, as much as you like!'

At that moment came a 'bang'; the plates and chopsticks on the wine table jumped, and Wu Lao Er raised his eyebrows, shouting, 'I thought only someone who had swallowed a leopard's gall and bear's heart would dare this—turns out you're just a wet‑nosed brat! Heh heh, little girl, you're lucky—I'll let you off!'

He realized the white‑clad youth was a woman dressed as a man, and felt that arguing with her would damage his masculine dignity and ruin his reputation.

But this remark angered the yellow‑clad youth beside the white‑clad woman; he rose coldly and said, 'Wu Shi Fei, how dare you spout such wolfish words? Apologize to my cousin now, and I will spare your life!'

Wu Shi Fei lifted a bowl of wine and laughed, 'You little brat, your hair hasn't even grown in, yet your tone is quite big!'

The yellow‑clad youth drew his sword with a clang, cursing, 'You don't know whether to live or die!' In a flash he moved to circle the table and attack the opponent.

Since the distance between them was close, he extended his body and struck out—fast and ruthless—while Wu Lao Er gave a grim smile, also rose and drew his waist‑worn single blade.

Unexpectedly, an old man with white‑streaked hair suddenly flashed forward, stepping between them; his left palm blocked Wu Lao Er, his right hand seized the yellow‑clad youth's wrist, sheathed his long sword, and said, 'Young hero, take it slow, take it slow!'

……

Ps: Big shots, you must keep up with the new book! You have to read to the very last page!

Watching the collection count rise each day, yet the number of follow‑reads does not increase.

A new book cannot be 'raised' by mere collection; if you only collect it, it dies! Now the recommendation mechanism is based on follow‑read data.

No data, no recommendation.

Sigh, just over 100,000 words and it's already on the shelves—too absurd!

But if I don't make it into the second round of recommendation this week, I can only put it on the shelves.

(End of chapter)