Chapter 22: Chapter Eight [Simple and Brutal] (Part 1)

Huo Xiaoru, because of this insulting couplet, lost color from her pretty face, and her beautiful eyes grew dim and lackluster. Though she was extraordinarily talented, her lowly birth meant that, just as at today's poetry gathering, when others invited her over, they showed respect on the surface but in their hearts only wanted her to come for amusement; no one looked down on her status. The little maid behind Huo Xiaoru had reddened eye sockets, obviously feeling indignant at the humiliation her master suffered.

Huo Xiaoru softly sighed, "Where there's fire there's smoke; if not discarded, it ends in suffering!" On one hand she pointed out that Qiu Zhitang had excessive fire and lacked virtue in speech; on the other she lamented her own bitter fate. After speaking, she said gloomily, "Waner, let's go!" The good mood she had just moments ago vanished in an instant, even forgetting to bid farewell to Hu Xiaotian; she only wanted to leave this place of right and wrong quickly.

Hu Xiaotian saw Huo Xiaoru suffering such undeserved humiliation, his heart already filled with righteous indignation. Seeing Qiu Zhigao and Qiu Zhitang standing there smugly, as if they had won a great victory, Hu Xiaotian cursed in his heart, "Damn bastards, if I don't beat you today I'll take your surname!" He walked over to Qiu Zhitang with a smirk, clasped his hands and said, "Sir, you truly are talented!"

Qiu Zhitang gave a cold snort full of arrogance, flipped his eyelids, and completely ignored him.

A surge of anger rose in Hu Xiaotian's chest; he suddenly threw a punch. With a "Bang!" it struck Qiu Zhitang's nose, catching him off guard and making his nose bleed. Hu Xiaotian shouted, "You damned bastard!" Feeling a rush of satisfaction from the bottom of his heart, he concluded that a simple, brutal revenge was the most direct and gratifying.

Seeing his brother knocked to the ground by Hu Xiaotian's sudden punch, Qiu Zhigao rushed up and grappled with him. The several scholars standing nearby did not know Hu Xiaotian, but they were friends of the Qiu brothers; seeing Hu Xiaotian fighting the Qiu brothers, they all rushed to help. Hu Xiaotian shouted loudly, "Liang Da Zhuang, are you all dead, you motherfuckers?"

Liang Da Zhuang and the five household servants who had come with him only now reacted; Liang Da Zhuang bellowed, "Damn it, dare to hit our young master, brothers! Beat these blind grandsons back into their mother's womb!"

Don't think these household servants can't handle real martial artists, but against these scholars who lack even the strength to truss a chicken they are more than enough; moreover, Hu Buwei had added two more personal guards for Hu Xiaotian, whose combat strength in the Hu mansion ranks only below Hu Tianxiong. With the six servants joining the battlefield, they instantly controlled the situation.

Those scholars usually indulge in poetry and couplets; they can manage the archaic particles, but when it comes to fighting they are utterly incapable.

When scholars meet soldiers they can't argue their way out; if they encounter household servants they don't even get a chance to reason. Seeing the scene before them, they all turned and fled, wishing their parents had given them two fewer legs.

Hu Xiaotian's training over the past four months was not for nothing; although he didn't know any advanced martial arts and his grappling technique was somewhat lacking, his strength was genuinely not weak, especially when facing the frail scholars like the Qiu brothers—he needed little effort to gain a complete advantage.

First Qiu Zhitang was knocked down by Hu Xiaotian's punch; then Qiu Zhigao went to help, grabbing Hu Xiaotian from behind. Unexpectedly Hu Xiaotian jerked his head back, striking Qiu Zhigao's nose with the back of his skull, causing his nose to bleed profusely.

Hu Xiaotian's six lackeys rushed forward, dragged Qiu Zhigao to the ground, and rained punches and kicks on him. Qiu Zhitang had just gotten up when Hu Xiaotian charged again, kicking him in the chest so he fell. Hu Xiaotian mounted him, grabbed his collar with his left hand, raised his right, and slapped him left and right five or six times, swelling Qiu Zhitang's cheeks and making him wail repeatedly.

Qiu Zhitang wailed, "A gentleman settles things with words, not fists—you scoundrel… you truly disgrace the literati!"

Hu Xiaotian laughed, "Disgrace the literati? I'm just insulting your kind of scholar; if I don't beat you I'll burst with frustration today, and if I don't beat you you won't learn a lesson."

This is an age that venerates rules; scholars prize settling disputes with words, not hands. To these lofty cultured people, resorting to force is seen as barbaric and vulgar, something they disdain. Everyone compares literary talent in poetry and couplets, conducts gentlemanly debates; if you surpass me in ability, I will be genuinely convinced. Rarely does one see scholars come to blows over a disagreement.

Thus the Qiu brothers dared earlier to spout wild words, mocking Huo Xiaoru's lowly birth. Faced with such insult, Huo Xiaoru could only lament her bitter fate and prepare to leave quietly—yet the situation unexpectedly reversed. Hu Xiaotian's reason for striking was solely that seeing Qiu Zhitang treat a woman so spitefully filled him with righteous indignation; he felt that responding with a refined couplet would not settle the score with these brothers, and only a rush of punches and kicks, a thorough beating, could restore his mental balance.

The facts proved Hu Xiaotian's idea: the satisfaction and exhilaration from beating the Qiu brothers senseless were far greater than that from poetry coupling—who knows how many times greater. He thought to himself, "Looks like I'm a coarse person to the bone!" With a "Thud!" another punch struck Qiu Zhitang's right eye, sending him sprawling flat on his back; tears streaming, he gasped, "Villain… aren't you afraid the scholars of the world will laugh at you…"

"Laugh at your mother!" Hu Xiaotian spat a mouthful of saliva onto his face.

Huo Xiaoru had originally intended to board her carriage and leave, but she never expected Hu Xiaotian to rush forward and start a brawl. She of course understood that this melee happened entirely because of her; seeing the scene, Hu Xiaotian's side clearly held the upper hand, beating those scholars until they cried for their parents and lost control of their bowels and bladder. For a moment she didn't know whether to leave or stay; the maid Waner, who was holding a dog behind her, watched with delight, shouting nonstop, "Well done! Well done! Keep it up! Keep it up!"

Huo Xiaoru glared at Waner, who stuck out her tongue and shrank her neck, looking very cute. As Huo Xiaoru hesitated whether to intervene, she saw a black steed galloping from afar toward the Mistwater Pavilion; atop it rode a woman dressed as a constable, heroic and imposing, one hand holding the reins, the other gripping a sword, shouting, "Everyone, stop!" It was the female Constable Chief of the Capital Prefecture, Murong Feiyan.

Although Hu Xiaotian didn't turn around, he already judged the newcomer's identity from the voice, inwardly cursing his bad luck. "Damn it, I didn't expect the security in Dakang's capital to be so good, the police response so fast—who's meddling, calling 110 this quickly?"

The Qiu Zhitang who had been lying on the ground heard the constables coming, lifted his head, and shouted loudly, "Help!!" He exerted all his strength, the veins on his neck bulging. Immediately he saw a fist loom before his eyes; Hu Xiaotian's strike was truly vicious—with a "Thud!" he punched Qiu Zhitang's left eye black, then climbed off him, clapped his hands, and said nonchalantly, "Brothers, wrap it up, let's go!"

Upon hearing Hu Xiaotian's command, Liang Da Zhuang's servants immediately stopped the beating, straightened their clothes, panting, and came to stand behind Hu Xiaotian.

Murong Feiyan had already ridden her horse to the front of the Mistwater Pavilion. Hu Xiaotian had expected her to perform another front flip plus a twisting dismount, but this time she didn't meet his expectation; she simply swung down from the horse. This lass's agility was impressive—her simple, unadorned movement was just as spirited. She gripped the sword hilt, her beautiful eyes coldly fixed on Hu Xiaotian, and walked toward him at an unhurried pace.

Hu Xiaotian smirked at Murong Feiyan, thinking he and the "little lass" Murong were somewhat incompatible—why did she always appear first at the scene whenever trouble arose? Could it be that this lass regarded him as a prime suspect and kept an eye on him?

Murong Feiyan came before Hu Xiaotian, circling him slowly; as she walked he walked too, their eyes locked, they paced around staring at each other like fighting cocks. Eventually Murong Feiyan was the first to stop and said, "Master Hu! How do you explain today's incident?"

Hu Xiaotian laughed heartily, his attitude full of contempt.

Qiu Zhigao and Qiu Zhitang helped each other up from the ground; their appearance was such that even their own parents might not recognize them. Scholars encountering ruffians are destined to suffer loss. The two brothers wailed, "Constable Chief Murong… he committed violence in the street… you must uphold justice for us!"

Murong Feiyan looked at Hu Xiaotian, the corner of her mouth curling in a cold smile: "In plain sight, committing violence in the street, bullying the weak with strength, the many oppressing the few—what else do you have to say?" She had already anticipated that Hu Xiaotian would do evil again, just not that he'd be caught so quickly by her.

Hu Xiaotian said, "Say what you want; as an law‑enforcement officer you don't ask about causes, you don't investigate, you don't distinguish right from wrong, you listen partially and believe partially, you groundlessly accuse me, confuse black and white, overturn truth and falsehood, Constable Chief Murong! Are you trying to show me what it means to abuse public office for private gain, to repay personal grudges under the guise of justice?" He had no fear of Murong Feiyan; earlier the Prefect of the Capital Prefecture, Hong Baiqi, had to yield three steps to his father in his presence, let alone this petty constable.

Murong Feiyan coldly replied, "Glib‑tongued, spouting nonsense, inverting right and wrong, confusing black and white—that's you!" She immediately moved forward; at this moment her subordinates, four constables, had just caught up. These four constables had come running in haste, obviously exhausted, each leaning on their Water Fire Staff, gasping for breath.

Hu Xiaotian had no intention of matching wits with this lass; he smirked, "Reinforcements have arrived—just in time to help send this bunch of wastes to the hospital; if nothing else I'll leave first!" He waved his hand, intending to stride off with his men, but after taking a single step, Murong Feiyan's sword tip pressed against his chest—of course it was sheathed. Her aim was merely to stop him from leaving, not to injure him.

Hu Xiaotian sighed, "Constable Chief Murong, you like to press against me so much—hard and uncomfortable. Why don't we switch places and I'll press you instead?"

Murong Feiyan snapped, "Shameless!"