Chapter 36: Unexpected Incident

Qian Feng whispered, "Big brother, may I discuss something with you."

Li Bucai looked at his expression, guessing he was scheming against Wu Zhuoran, and said, "You aren't planning to back out, are you?"

"We're all standing while peeing, how could that be? I just think you have too few people around you, so I'd like to give you a few capable subordinates. How about I trade you Mu Nan plus five guards?"

Those few guards, Li Bucai really didn't like, and laughed, "Fine, but you have to ask Zhuoran first whether she agrees."

"You're her master; once you speak, would she dare refuse?"

At that moment, Wu Zhuoran returned to the formation and saluted Li Bucai.

Li Bucai praised, "Elegant—people are elegant, even reaching out is elegant."

Wu Zhuoran's pink face flushed slightly, and she bowed her head, standing behind.

"Zhuoran, Great Lord Qian asked me to ask you, are you willing…"

The moment she heard Qian Feng, Zhuoran's previously indifferent gaze instantly shot at him like two sharp swords, making Qian Feng shiver, and the arrow wound on his butt began to throb. "I… I…" I won't come out.

"I saw it. For your safety, therefore, even if you add ten more guards for me, I still can't push Great Lord Qian into the fire pit."

The white‑clothed youth's subordinate was severely injured, fire instantly flared, blocking the servant who tried to step forward. He shook his cloak, stepped forward, pointed at Li Bucai and Qian Feng, and said angrily, "You, and you, both step up, so I won't be accused of bullying you."

Both were startled, not knowing whether this person was daringly skilled or simply reckless. Mu Nan and Wu Zhuoran were each one‑on‑one; under everyone's eyes, how could a lord have two fight one?

Li Bucai asked Qian Feng, "You first or me first?"

Qian Feng thought silently: Mu Nan lost a match first, so I should come back to win the round, but this person daring to say that probably has some weight. If I lose again, my Lord of Qingyuan's face will be completely ruined. Hmm, a master should appear last; better let him go first. If he loses, besides draining his stamina, I'll also learn what technique he used, giving me a better chance.

"Hey, stop being wimpy; either both of you together, or everyone together. Fight or not; if not, give three loud thuds on the spot, leaving you a complete corpse."

Li Bucai didn't wait for Qian Feng to make a pleading gesture, and stepped forward first, saying, "I admire your courage and sympathize with your recklessness. Though we are enemies, how about we make a pact? If I lose later, you may kill or dismember me as you wish; if you lose, I won't kill you—I only ask that you become my servant. How about that?"

The white‑clothed youth snorted, "Hmph! Be my servant? Dream on! Better find someone else to collect your corpses."

After speaking, he suddenly drew the dual knives at his waist, and a string of silhouettes surged from behind in a surprise attack. Li Bucai neither dodged nor avoided; he shook his spear and used the new skill "Wind Assault Stab", colliding head‑on with him. Though the new skill was still in its early stage, it was extremely fierce, infusing War God Qi into the spear. When he surged forward, the War God Qi burst from the spear, enveloping both spear and his body, merging man and weapon into a wedge‑shaped airflow. Coupled with his several combats that day, the Martial God Mantra was just short of breaking the sixth level, giving it considerable penetrating power.

The white‑clothed youth's "Butterfly Through Flowers" was halfway when he saw the opponent's ferocious momentum; his "Gale Mantra" could not clash head‑on with the "Martial God Mantra", so he immediately used the light‑skill "Butterfly Dance Step".

Qian Feng and his companions saw six illusory figures detach from him, wobbling a few times. Li Bucai passed through the figures, and the illusory forms shattered like bubbles, while the white‑clothed youth remained unharmed at his original spot.

Being able to switch techniques midway through a previous move shows his skills have reached a level of seamless give‑and‑take. Everyone gasped in amazement.

At this moment, Li Bucai's "Wind Assault Stab" extended ten steps forward; as he retracted the move, the War God airflow on the spear burst outward, heading straight for the green‑clothed youth standing ahead. The youth hesitated to dodge, swinging his sword horizontally to block; with a "thud", the airflow struck the blade, numbing his palm, causing the sword to slip from his hand, and he had to tumble backward several times to release the force.

The other youths were also startled.

"Sorry, I couldn't contain it for a moment, apologies, apologies," Li Bucai waved his hand to signal the person. Behind him, the white‑clothed youth had already charged. Turning, eight silhouettes darted up and down before him, dazzling and indistinguishable. He swung his spear, using "Qinglong Tail Sweep" to envelop his body. A clashing of weapons rang out, and both men stepped back three paces simultaneously.

The white‑clothed youth's hand on the knife hilt kept twitching, clearly his hands were numbed by the blow. Li Bucai's hand brushed the spear, and he suddenly felt several dents appear on the shaft; the deepest was already more than half broken. He thought, "Not good, the spear might break!"

At that moment, a sudden burst of lute music rang out; Li Bucai felt as if countless flies were buzzing into his ears, his mind buzzing, and even his vision became blurry.

It turned out that on the side of the two, a green‑clothed youth was holding a harp; noticing a bead of sweat on the white‑clothed youth's cheek after his move, he plucked a string, sending a string of musical notes into Li Bucai's ears—a piece called "** Melody".

Li Bucai, as if drunk, stood there swaying; the white‑clothed youth in front hadn't even used a technique yet and had already turned into several silhouettes.

"Must not lose, must not lose…" Li Bucai's mind kept shouting. The pretty faces of Wu Zhuoran, Yan Qiu, Qing'er, Wu Zhuoyue and others flashed in his mind. If he lost now, they would be labeled traitors, not sharing the same sky with us, and Wu Zhuoran's group would be killed by them; if he couldn't return to his territory, Yan Qiu's group would be slain by the exotic beasts inside the territory. So many beloved teenage girls, each meeting a tragic death at his own hands—cannot lose, must not lose…

The white‑clothed youth launched another attack, wielding his dual knives with "Snowflake Dance", striking forward as sharply as a snowflake.

Li Bucai's mind was still foggy; he saw a white mass advancing, its shape indistinct, so he dared not attack recklessly and resorted again to "Qinglong Tail Sweep" to protect his body.

Another clash of weapons rang out; in his haze Li Bucai felt his footing give way, stumbling backward repeatedly. Suddenly a crisp snap sounded as the spear broke in the middle. Li Bucai broke into a cold sweat, jolted awake; the knife was at his throat, about to strike. At that moment he retreated onto an ant‑soldier's corpse, tripping, and fell backward involuntarily; the blade brushed his nose, narrowly evading the strike.

Because the white‑clothed youth's attack was too fierce and couldn't be retracted quickly, to avoid landing on him, he leapt forward, trying to jump over the youth.

At this moment both had their gates wide open—one stretched both hands forward, the other swayed both hands left and right, their bodies only a fingertip apart. Seeing the spear already broken, Li Bucai tossed it aside, channeling qi through both palms, intending to strike with his palms, but realizing his cultivation wasn't enough to seriously wound an opponent with a palm, he quickly switched his palms to claws, and as he fell, he attacked the white‑clothed youth's chest.

The white‑clothed youth sensed something amiss, hurriedly performed a forward somersault to dodge, but just missed, his fingertip catching the youth's clothing.

Li Bucai saw the clothing snagged; if he pulled him back now, he could control him, so he locked his five fingers, tightly gripping the garment. A ripping sound of cloth came; unexpectedly, the somersault's force was strong, failing to pull him back, and his hands now held two pieces of white cloth. Looking closely, there were three! Each hand clutched a palm‑sized scrap, and behind each scrap was a larger piece… no, it was an entire garment—a white belly‑band!

Damn, why is this big gentleman still wearing that? Is he a cross‑dresser?

The white‑clothed youth's once snow‑white face was now blazing; he tightly wrapped his cloak around his body and shouted, "You—you are shameless!"