Chapter 1242: [Bullying Too Much] (Part 1)

Two warriors were terrified out of their wits, seeing the blade's light flash; they thought they were surely dead, but fortunately Hu Xiaotian showed mercy—if the blade had struck their faces, they would likely be decapitated by now.

The commotion here had already startled Zou Yong, who had just returned to his manor; he didn't take Hu Dafu seriously, although he suspected Hu Dafu was no mere merchant—after all, this was Bohai State, and he couldn't believe Hu Dafu would dare act so arrogantly. When Zou Yong learned that the gate of Mirror Water Travel Estate had been destroyed and that Hu Xiaotian had led a force to break in, he too felt somewhat shocked, hurriedly bringing people to investigate the disturbance, just in time to see Hu Xiaotian leading a pack of wolf‑like Golden Scale Guards wreaking havoc in the front courtyard.

Zou Yong's anger flared; even within Bohai State, few would dare to challenge him at his door—this Hu Dafu simply had the gall of a bear and the daring of a leopard, as if this were his domain? Zou Yong roared, "Everyone, halt!"

Hearing his voice, the warriors of Mirror Water Travel Estate all halted, but Hu Xiaotian had no intention of stopping—he kicked the opposing warrior hard in the abdomen, and that warrior let out a miserable cry, soaring toward Zou Yong like clouds and mist.

Zou Yong reached out, slashing his palm diagonally at the warrior's back; on the surface it looked like an attack, but in fact he used the force of that palm to counteract the warrior's backward momentum, hoping to help him land safely. As soon as his palm made contact, the warrior's body instantly felt a tremendous force transmitted from afar through his body, and Zou Yong inwardly cursed his misfortune—Hu Dafu's inner strength was so formidable that if he had met it head‑on, he doubted he could withstand it. Shifting his thoughts, he immediately withdrew seventy percent of his force, slightly turned his body, and brushed past the warrior's body. Watching helplessly, the warrior flew another two zhang or more before crashing heavily to the ground, spitting blood and suffering severe injuries on the spot.

To onlookers, it seemed as if Zou Yong had followed up with another palm strike.

Hu Xiaotian sneered, "Young Master Zou, you're quite ruthless with your subordinates!"

Zou Yong's handsome face turned ashen with anger; he forcibly suppressed his fury: "Hu Dafu, I don't know where I have offended you, yet you actually led a crowd to forcefully break into my Mirror Water Travel Estate, destroy my gate, and injure my men?" The corner of his eye caught the bronze lion lying on the ground, and he involuntarily drew a sharp breath—this fellow's martial arts were astonishing; if they clashed head‑on, he feared he would end up at a disadvantage.

Hu Xiaotian said, "Zou Yong, I originally thought you were a modest gentleman, hoping to befriend you, but I never expected you to be a hypocrite, daring to meet the Princess behind my back."

Zou Yong, articulate and unyielding, replied: "Hu Dafu, what relation do you have with the Princess? The Princess's affairs are none of your business!"

Hu Xiaotian nodded and said, "I am a subject of Da Yong, and also a close friend of the Princess; her concerns are my concerns. I cannot stand by while a vile petty person tries to deceive her, Zou Yong. This morning you arranged an outing with the Princess, yet the Princess has still not returned. Where have you hidden her? You had better come clean!"

Zou Yong had only just learned that Xue Lingjun had not yet returned; because he was vexed over Kou Zisheng's killing, he had actually overlooked the fact that Xue Lingjun and Yan Dongqing had stood each other up that morning. Hearing Hu Xiaotian's words, his first reaction was that Hu Xiaotian was merely making excuses to cause him trouble. Zou Yong coldly said, "I did indeed have an appointment with the Princess this morning, but she did not keep it; I waited at the agreed place for over an hour and still saw no sign of her, Hu Dafu—you seem to be looking in the wrong place."

Hu Xiaotian burst into hysterical laughter: "Zou Yong, do you think I'm a three‑year‑old? You actually try to fool me with such a childish excuse—if it weren't for your appointment with the Princess, how could she have gone missing? Zou Yong, Zou Yong, the Princess is an imperial princess of Da Yong, and you dare to scheme against her; I see you have the gall of a bear and the daring of a leopard."

Zou Yong shouted, "To accuse someone is never lacking in pretext—you are clearly fabricating charges and framing me!"

Hu Xiaotian pointed at Zou Yong's nose and said, "Who in Bohai State doesn't know what you are, Zou Yong? A kept man, a pretty boy who sells his looks—there's no vile, despicable act you wouldn't commit." Hu Xiaotian came prepared; every word struck at Zou Yong's weak point.

The humiliation of being slapped in front of everyone was unbearable; although Zou Yong was usually well‑cultivated, Hu Xiaotian's provocation stirred his true anger, and he snapped, "Hu Dafu, don't you see where you are? Spouting nonsense, you're courting death!"

Hu Xiaotian sneered, "If you don't hand over the Princess today, I'll make you taste what death feels like!" He stepped forward, pushing off with his right foot, his body leaping up like a panther; he then swung his long blade, the very sword he had named Wind‑Slayer, whose speed now surpassed even a gale—with a swish, it cut through the faint night breeze, turning into a blinding shaft of light that hurtled straight at Zou Yong's face.

In dealing with Zou Yong, Hu Xiaotian still held back his strength; he did not unleash his blade‑qi killing move right away, of course this also related to his cultivation level—he had not yet mastered the Seven Slays of Heaven to the point of effortless control, and furthermore, since he was holding a blade rather than a sword, its effectiveness was greatly reduced.

Even so, this move, launched purely with his formidable inner power, was still awe‑inspiring in its momentum.

Before the long blade even reached him, its high‑speed passage had already squeezed the surrounding air like pushing back waves; Zou Yong distinctly felt his breath catch, his complexion changing, he tapped his toe and slid backward, while retreating he continuously waved his hands, shooting out six flying daggers in succession from his sleeves with a series of swishes.

The flying daggers, each as fast as the next, came from different directions with varying speeds and trajectories, all aimed at the same target—sometimes swift, sometimes slow, sometimes straight, sometimes curving; to be able to react in such a short time is already rare, and he could still vary his attack patterns in the heat of the moment; his flying‑dagger technique alone would be enough to rank among the top tier.

Including the warriors of Mirror Water Travel Estate, they all stared agape; even they had not imagined that this graceful, handsome young man possessed such profound and inscrutable martial arts—Zou Yong's deep scheming was evident, for if Hu Xiaotian had not driven him to a point of no retreat, he would never have revealed his true strength.

Although the Void Great Law would eventually drive Hu Xiaotian into madness, its effect on boosting his martial prowess is immediate and striking; the inner power he now possesses is unrivaled in the present age—even though portions of the Shooting Sun True Classic had been given to Huo Shengnan and Yan Nujiao, to him it was merely a drop in the bucket; when a person's internal energy cultivation reaches a certain level, his bodily perception and reactions undergo a fundamental transformation.

To onlookers, Zou Yong's thrown flying daggers were as fast as lightning, leaving no time to react, but in Hu Xiaotian's eyes they were clear trajectories; he deflected them back and forth with his Wind‑Slayer, producing a constant clink‑clank of metal striking metal, the sharp ringing unceasing, accompanied by sparks flying everywhere, and Hu Xiaotian knocked all six flying daggers to the ground.

Zou Yong's flying daggers were fast at first then slowed, because initially he still wanted to show mercy, but he quickly realized that against such a formidable opponent, not even sparing his life would be possible without exerting his utmost. Though none of the six daggers found their mark, they nevertheless bought Zou Yong a moment to catch his breath; his body spiraled upward, soaring to the roof ridge about five zhang high, where a full moon hung cold as frost, its light spilling onto the tiles and causing the glazed ware to gleam with a cold silver sheen. Zou Yong stood in white robes like snow, wind‑blown, his brows knit, his eyes never leaving Hu Xiaotian even a fraction, his hands hanging down with his palms firmly gripping the six flying daggers.

Hu Xiaotian had no intention of stopping; he closely followed Zou Yong's silhouette, soaring into the air to a height of six zhang, then, like a great bird, he angled into a diving descent, his long blade pointing forward, moonlight enveloping his entire being, man and blade merging into one, appearing from afar as an unsheathed longsword whose light tore through the night, cut the cold wind, and descended upon Zou Yong with an unstoppable force.

Zou Yong flicked his long sleeve, releasing six icy stars simultaneously, which shot toward the massive blade‑shadow in the air like six bolts of lightning; the icy stars pursued wind and electricity, yet once they neared the blade‑shadow they instantly dimmed and lost their luster. The blade‑shadow descending from the void above suffered no slowing from those six icy stars, nor did its light weaken in the slightest.

Zou Yong's pupils widened instantly; he first sensed something amiss, stamped his feet, and his body turned into a white streak of light, retreating at great speed—just as his body left its standing position, the blade struck the roof ridge with a boom! Following that blast, the roof cracked open a gap two zhang long, then began to collapse visibly from the sides toward the center, accompanied by continuous rumbling crashes and the sharp splintering of beams and rafters; smoke and dust flew up, sand and gravel scattered, and everyone fled backward.

The rising sand and dust could not conceal the blade's radiance; Hu Xiaotian's body rose again into the air, descending at an even greater speed, his long blade held aloft with an unstoppable force as he slashed toward Zou Yong.

Zou Yong's face turned pallid; his flying daggers could not block the opponent's advance, and what frightened him even more was that his footwork could not match the adversary's speed. Seeing the distance rapidly close, fear flashed in his eyes, he clenched his lips, and suddenly produced a dark‑stained wood bow, its string blazing red like fire, with a feathered arrow nocked, the bow shaped like a full moon, the arrowhead crimson as blood, aimed at the airborne pursuer—had he not sensed the threat of death, Zou Yong would never have brought out this last‑ditch arrow.

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