Chapter 552: 505 Choice

"Snap—"

With a sharp crack, a refined official-kiln blue-and-white porcelain cup smashed into pieces on the floor, turning into a pile of grayish-white debris.

In a luxurious inner chamber decorated to the extreme—even more so than the room of a certain young master from abroad—an old man with a white beard panted heavily, his beard trembling wildly.

"Bastard! What is Jian Chenglong? Where did such a stray dog crawl out from? He dares to challenge me? And what is this 'Civil Battle', 'Martial Battle' nonsense? Where did he scrape up such ghost-like tricks? Has Wangliang Mountain fallen to such a state? I, Wu Shayu, am actually being bullied by such a person coming to my door! Does he take me for a toothless tiger? I may be old, but I am not dead yet!"

He cursed at length, still feeling unsatisfied, and overturned a rosewood flower stand, sending the jade bonsai on top rolling across the floor.

Beside him, a white-haired woman with a respectful demeanor stood with her hands hanging down, merely watching the old man throw his tantrum. She was not afraid of him causing too much trouble; after all, the old man could only sit in his chair and could not stand up, so the range of his tantrum was very limited.

After he had fussed for a while, the woman said, "Master, the Manor Head of Changyi Manor, Tu Fei, is still outside..."

Before she could finish, the old man spat out a large mouthful of thick phlegm and said, "Tu Fei? Isn't that just Xing Fei? Does he think that by stealing Changyi Manor through underhanded means, he can change his surname? Once a Sword Guest slave, always a Sword Guest slave! He will always be Xing Fei, and that head of white hair is proof of his baseness!"

The woman, who also had a head of white hair, acted as if she had not heard and said, "Since Master does not permit it, this servant will go and reject him."

The old man said, "Reject him, throw the invitation in his face, and tell him to get lost! What kind of 'Manor Head'? A treacherous thief who rebelled and devoured his master, he doesn't dare to claim the title of Manor Master, so he came up with that ridiculous name of 'Manor Head'—it's enough to make one laugh their teeth off! Wangliang Mountain has less and less order these days; there are actually many ungrateful juniors following along and calling it that! Is Wangliang Mountain about to turn upside down? If I, this old man, weren't so old, I would have gone to his door long ago to slap his face and stuff him into the Yingze to offer to my Master."

He paused, then shouted, "Tell that nameless junior Jian Chenglong that my Sunset Manor is right here, and I will never refuse a battle. But if he wants to fight, he must stake his life and property according to the old rules. Everyone, including him, will fight to the death to see who survives! What Civil Battle, what Martial Battle—ridiculous! This isn't children playing house; if you can't afford to die, don't embarrass yourself!"

The white-haired woman agreed and retreated.

Of course, she would not listen to the old man and throw the invitation in the visitor's face. Changyi Manor was one of the five great First Rank Manors, bearing the Mandate of Heaven, and was far more noble than their Second Tier manor. If the old man hadn't been crippled for so long, he should have gone out to greet them personally. As for the Manor Head and the Manor Master, even Wangliang, the "my Master" in the old man's mouth, acknowledged the other party's status; what was the use of him stubbornly refusing to acknowledge it?

The reply to Changfa Manor at the end was actually acceptable: "If you want to fight, then fight. It is merely a fight to the death, why treat it like child's play?"

The white-haired woman left the old man, who was throwing a temper tantrum alone in the back, and walked forward by herself.

Just as she reached the front hall, she suddenly heard the Manor Master's voice in her ear: "Xing Qing, come back."

The white-haired woman, Xing Qing, hurried back to the back hall.

The back hall had become completely quiet. Surrounded by debris on the floor, the old man sat quietly in his soft chair, his whole body hunched in the Shadow, his expression unclear. He seemed to have calmed down, but that cluster of white beard was still trembling.

"Go and tell Xing Fei—I agree."

Even though Xing Qing never questioned the Manor Master's decisions, she couldn't help but widen her eyes in disbelief.

It had only been the time it takes to brew a cup of tea—the tea hadn't even cooled yet!

The old man coughed lightly and said smoothly, "We will do it according to that bullshit he mentioned... the Civil Battle, I agree. But since I have agreed, I have still given him enough face; the rules must be set by me, and no bargaining is allowed. Otherwise, we will have a Martial Battle."

The old man then rattled off a string of words, clear and logical, stating one, two, three, and four distinctly, as if he had been thinking about it for a long time.

While Xing Qing firmly memorized them, she wondered in her heart:

What on earth happened to make her master, who had always been so stubborn, suddenly change his mind?

Yulang City.

"This was proposed by Wu Shayu of Sunset Manor?" YoungMaster Jian Chenglong, who had been cursed at by the old man, was looking at a large piece of text in front of him; this was the formal battle invitation written by Sunset Manor.

"Exactly." Tu Fei took a sip of tea triumphantly. Compared to his accomplices, he preferred to take on tasks and was more greedy. "Brother Jian, for your sake, I went specially to Sunset Manor to persuade Old Wu. I sat there for a whole day and talked until my mouth went dry before I got this result. At first, he was unwilling, feeling it was a loss of face. I advised him: 'Brother Jian has the courage to make this request because he has the strength. The Momentum is surging and unstoppable; what is the use of you avoiding it? When the great battle starts and blood flows like a river, not only will you lose all your face and substance, but you will also disturb the peace of Lord Wangliang at this critical moment—wouldn't that be a sin? It is better to hand over power properly at the table and exit with dignity. When everyone sees such demeanor from you, not diminished from the past, who would dare to look down on you?' Only then did he agree."

The YoungMaster nodded repeatedly, expressed his thanks, looked at the paper in front of him, and said, "He proposed two plans. One is to fight four matches, the other is to fight eight matches... each sending eight Sword Guests?"

He was thoughtful, looked up at Xing Qi standing in front of him, and mused, "He means... for me to choose the four-match plan, right?"

Seeing the conditions on the paper, although a choice was given, the other party's intention was obvious.

The paper proposed two plans: one was for each side to send four Sword Guests to compete in four matches, but it had to be held at Sunset Manor, the time would be chosen by the other party, and the guests would be selected by both sides. The other plan was eight matches, which could be held at a neutral venue, with the time and place decided by both parties, and guests still selected by both sides.

It seemed the eight-match plan was fairer, but the problem was... Changfa Manor couldn't scrape together eight Sword Guests!

On the surface, Tang Zhao and his group, plus the YoungMaster himself, only had two Sword Guests. Adding the manor's original Xing Wu, Xing Qi, Xing Jiu, and Xing Shisan, even with the old guy Xing Cang, there were only seven Sword Guests. There really weren't eight.

Isn't it a coincidence? Just one short!

If they chose four Sword Guests, there would be more room to maneuver, and they could choose the four strongest, but they would have to go to the opponent's home field. At that point, the situation would tilt heavily in the opponent's favor.

Tu Fei also knew the other party was in a difficult position. He was mainly making money from the YoungMaster's side in this middleman role, so his stance was biased toward him. He pointed out, "Actually, he also has the advantage in choosing eight matches. After all, he is an old-established manor with years of accumulation and plenty of talent. You, brother, might have a few top-tier figures, but in terms of depth, you probably can't compare to them. Even if you really scrape together eight people, there will definitely be weak links. By then, they will hold a few victories first and be able to calmly arrange tactics; wouldn't their chances of winning be higher?"

After speaking, he said earnestly, "Brother Jian, you are the one taking the initiative to challenge others now; you are challenging a higher rank from a lower rank, and the initiative is not with you. It is impossible for the other party to come up with a plan that makes you comfortable. If you have confidence, go against the current and beat him until he has no temper; naturally, you will win the crowd. Otherwise, you can only take a step back."

Jian Chenglong... that is, Jin Wu, frowned secretly. As a long-lived Sword Spirit, his wisdom was no less than a human's, but his living environment was simple. Although he often observed the various states of the Human World and had some experience, he had never truly participated in the scheming between people. His analysis of pros and cons was a step behind, and for a moment, he was indecisive.

Seeing his hesitation, Tu Fei said, "It's not that there's no way at all..."

At this time, Xing Qi, who was Tang Zhao, smiled and said, "Manor Head Tu, our master is encountering this kind of thing for the first time. You are knowledgeable and experienced; if you could give us some pointers, we would be truly grateful. Our master still has a token of appreciation to offer."

Tu Fei smiled and said, "What token of appreciation? You are being too formal. Actually, there is a loophole in this. Have you thought about it? Eight matches—if each side wins four, how do you determine the winner? Why not reduce it by one match? Seven matches, four wins—that would be logical and proper."

Tang Zhao was thoughtful and said, "Reduce it by one match—would he agree?"

Tu Fei said, "Not necessarily. You just need to ask him to concede a little; it's still generally in his favor. I will mediate for you again; Changyi Manor still has that much face. At worst, I'll add more incentives. We won't choose other neutral venues; let's choose our Changyi Manor. Changyi Manor is a First Rank Manor; how much face would it have to hold it there? We can also invite the various Manor Masters of the First Rank, and I can even hint to him that I will favor him when I act as the arbitrator. I'm not afraid the old guy won't concede."

Jin Wu found it hard to decide for a moment, so he said, "Let me consider it."

The so-called consideration was, of course, to discuss it with Tang Zhao, as Tang Zhao was the one who truly made the decisions for this team.

Tu Fei nodded. This was a small matter for him, but for those two manors, it could be said to be a life-or-death matter; surely they needed time to deliberate? But he still reminded them very professionally: "Brother Jian, the Deep Shadow Society will be here in the blink of an eye, followed by the Sacrifice. Counting it up, there isn't even a month left. Don't spend too long discussing. Actually, even if you choose the four-match one, it doesn't matter. So what if it's on his home field? At most, he'll play some little tricks. As long as your strength is there, you'll sweep them away all the same. When the time comes, I will sit in for you. If he plays big tricks or even tears off his mask to ambush you, that would be not giving our Changyi Manor face, and I will be the first one not to spare him."

At this time, Tang Zhao suddenly smiled and said, "Many thanks for Manor Head Tu's kindness. But I think eight matches of Sword Fighting is an even number, which is indeed not easy to determine a winner. However, it doesn't necessarily have to be seven matches—why can't it be nine?"

Tu Fei was stunned for a moment and said, "What do you mean?"

They didn't even have enough people to begin with, so how could they add more?

Tang Zhao's smile became even more obvious, and he said, "I mean, Manor Master Wu seems to like Sword Fighting a lot, so why can't we accompany him? Why not arrange nine matches? Or eleven would also work, right?"