Chapter 411: Guangling Heir Zhao Biao, Conflict

The military officer wore a cold, ferocious smile, and leveraging the forward momentum of his warhorse, he swept his pitch-black spear horizontally toward Nangong Pushe.

Of course, he dared not use his full strength; if he truly hacked this beauty in two, he would not fare well before the temperamental Prince.

Nangong Pushe stood tall, looking at the oncoming officer without the slightest sign of being moved, merely stroking the Xiudong Saber at her waist with her jade-like hand.

The saber is recognized as the leader of the "nine shorts" among the eighteen types of weapons; those who practice the sword are cleverer, too lazy to argue over the title of leader of the nine shorts, and simply bestowed upon themselves the title of Emperor of Weapons.

The Xiudong Saber is three feet two inches long, with a hilt two and a half inches long, weighing ten jin and nine liang; it is exquisite and peerless, looking more beautiful and pleasing to the eye than the other, simpler-looking Chunlei Saber at her waist.

But this saber does not seek sharpness; it does the opposite—it is a blunt-edged blade.

Swish!

In an instant.

The Xiudong Saber was already drawn.

The saber light curled up like a dragon.

Nangong Pushe slashed the saber through the air toward the pitch-black spear; the airflow stirred, becoming part of the saber's momentum, causing the power of this strike to double.

"This woman wants to compete with me in strength? Simply overestimating herself." The officer sneered, and the pitch-black snake spear in his hand danced faster and more aggressively.

A military man who has spent years in the barracks, eating meat in large mouthfuls and drinking wine from large bowls, is never short of raw strength, not to mention that he also carried the momentum of his charging warhorse, sweeping away all in his path.

With a trembling "clang," the saber and spear collided, and sparks flew in all directions.

The officer only felt a massive force strike him, nearly sending him flying off the horse's back; the spear shaft trembled violently, humming and vibrating, and the web between his thumb and forefinger was shaken until it bled.

Another flash of saber light slashed over; the officer's snake spear had no time to block, and he could only kick his legs, flip off the horse, and roll on the ground repeatedly, looking extremely disheveled.

The white shadow, carrying the saber light, followed closely, every strike a lethal move.

Although this officer's martial arts were inferior to Nangong Pushe's, he was a veteran of a hundred battles; while rolling on the ground to dodge, the tip of his spear suddenly turned, stabbing toward Nangong Pushe like a venomous snake.

This thrust came fiercely, rigid and sharp; it was the officer's trump card. At this moment, his face was ferocious, his murderous intent fully exposed. He could no longer care about the Guangling Heir's orders and wanted to poke a transparent hole through his opponent.

Yet, unexpectedly, Nangong Pushe used some unknown movement technique, flickering lightly and dodging it just in time.

She had already approached the officer's side, and without waiting for him to react, she slashed down directly; hearing a scream, an arm flew off, spraying hot blood.

After using the back of the blade to swat the officer away, Nangong Pushe turned her gaze toward the pair of siblings, but could not help but be startled.

The younger brother stood with his hands behind his back, a smile on his face.

The sister, who appeared frail and weak, had darted out, weaving back and forth among the group of knights, her robes fluttering, her graceful figure resembling a flying deity. She snatched a long saber from their hands and swung it casually; the rapid speed stirred the airflow, and the saber light was like lightning, no less impressive than Nangong Pushe's.

The space around the young girl seemed to be under the pressure of a thousand jun of force, producing continuous air explosions that squeezed toward her surroundings.

This group of cavalry, whose martial prowess was not low and could even be called battle-hardened, found their movements uncontrolled before the girl, constantly suffering from suction and repulsion, and could only exert sixty or seventy percent of their original strength.

Murong Wuzhu swung her saber casually, the blade carrying a strange and unpredictable power, which, combined with that peculiar suction force, caused the knights to fall off their horses one by one.

Before long, except for two knights who saw the situation was bad and immediately fled on horseback, the rest were all knocked to the ground by Murong Wuzhu.

Although Murong Wuzhu mostly used the back of the blade to attack, a True Qi with extremely strong corrosive properties invaded the knights' bodies, rampaging wantonly, causing their Qi and Blood to churn, forcing them to spit out a mouthful of blood and collapse limply to the ground.

"Brother, look, is your sister amazing?" Murong Wuzhu smiled and landed slowly like a piece of flying catkin, her delicate face flushed with a rosy hue.

"Heroic and spirited, your martial arts are peerless." Yu Liancheng smiled, not sparing his praise. At the same time, he reached out to gently support Murong Wuzhu's arm, sending his own True Qi out continuously.

Murong Wuzhu was, after all, engaging in combat for the first time, and against a group of fierce and menacing cavalry at that, so she had gone all out with every move, not daring to relax in the slightest. After the exchange, her True Qi was already exhausted. If not for Yu Liancheng supporting her, she would likely have fallen to the ground.

"Hey, let's get ready to leave; this place is not suitable for a long stay, otherwise the army might be mobilized and deployed in a moment," said Nangong Pushe.

In this world, although martial arts experts are strong, there are almost no "enemies of ten thousand," and even "enemies of a thousand" are pitifully rare.

Facing a well-trained army, even a First Grade master can only avoid its edge, otherwise, it is just seeking one's own death.

For example, the Sword Emperor of Western Shu back then, who guarded the city gate with a single sword.

In that battle, the Sword Emperor of Western Shu killed eight hundred elite cavalry within the time it takes to burn three sticks of incense, yet he still died of exhaustion; after his death, his body was trampled into meat paste by horses' hooves, and then the great general Chu Lushan planted a flag upon his corpse.

Nangong Pushe reckoned that she could not compare to the Sword Emperor of Western Shu; dealing with a hundred well-trained cavalry would already be a major undertaking that would exhaust her physical strength. Moreover, this was the territory of the Guangling King, who could mobilize a thousand or ten thousand cavalry at any time.

No matter how heaven-defying your martial prowess or peerless your cultivation, facing the charge of iron cavalry like a tidal wave, is the only outcome not to be crushed into meat paste?

Yu Liancheng looked toward the distance: "You want to leave, but others may not necessarily want to let you go."

Suddenly, the sound of horse hooves thundering like lightning erupted, dust flew, and a hundred cavalry came galloping.

These hundred riders galloped over, ignoring the commoners watching the tide along the way, and in the blink of an eye, they had arrived before the three of them.

A horse with light-gold mane ran at the very front, panting heavily, spraying white foam, with drops of sweat rolling down like blood.

This is the famous Sweat-Blood Horse of the Liyang Dynasty, of which there are at most a hundred in existence.

The Imperial Palace holds about twenty, and the dignitaries and royal relatives of the Capital have taken away half. Those that fall outside the Capital are very few. Anyone who can ride a Sweat-Blood Horse, no matter where they are, has an extremely prominent status.

And with the Sweat-Blood Horse's outstanding foot speed, a short sprint should not have been so arduous. But unfortunately, the weight of the person riding on the horse's back was truly frightening—bloated and fat, looking like a mountain of flesh from afar; even his exquisite and delicate clothing could not hide the trembling of that fat, so it was no wonder the Sweat-Blood Horse was like this.

"Good beauty, good beauty, it was worth me coming from so far away."

The person on horseback was none other than the Guangling Heir, Zhao Biao.

His eyes were not actually small, but they were squeezed into a line by the fat.

At this moment, his eyes opened like mung beans, shooting out greedy and excited light; he even forgot to wipe the drool from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, a pity for his expensive clothes produced by the Suzhou workshop.

This notorious master, whenever there was a large gathering, would always plant many scouts specifically responsible for finding pretty maidens, and every time he would return with a full load.

Especially this time, Zhao Biao was exceptionally satisfied.

That there could be such similar twin lotuses in the world; the Heavens truly have not treated this Prince poorly.

And the white-robed beauty with peerless grace and double blades at her waist satisfied him even more. Such a mare—only by conquering her would there be pleasure. Just looking at that slender and powerful waist, one could guess how exhilarating it would be on the bed.

Zhao Biao drooled profusely and clicked his tongue: "Little maidens, come quickly into this Prince's bowl; this Prince loves beauties the most and will definitely eat slowly, taking it slow."

"You go first; I will block them for a moment."

Nangong Pushe transmitted her voice to Yu Liancheng and Murong Wuzhu.

Her jade-like hand pressed onto the saber again, her expression solemn. The waves in her Peach Blossom eyes swirled, staring at a treasure horse worth a thousand gold behind Zhao Biao, upon which sat an old man in gray with a withered face.

This old man was thin and withered, as if a gust of wind could blow him over. But when he was galloping earlier, his body seemed to be rooted to the horse's back.

At this moment, a pair of aged eyes revealed a sharpness like a blade, and the whole person gave Nangong Pushe a sense of danger. Being able to guard by the Prince's side, he was indeed an extraordinary expert.

As for those hundred cavalrymen, although they are formidable, he is not the Sword Emperor of Western Shu seeking death; he only needs to delay the grey-robed old man for a moment, then unleash his movement technique and escape.

"Why leave? Has the tide-watching not ended yet?" Murong Wuzhu's pretty face filled with confusion.

Nangong Pushe's mouth twitched; if the Guangling King's Prince and the others were to learn of his thoughts, it would inevitably lead to more trouble.

Of course, he was not particularly panicked; if it came to the worst, he could simply slip away himself.

As for this pair of siblings, although they had conversed pleasantly, in the end, it was merely a chance encounter. At most, he could avenge them after his martial arts reached perfection and he stood among the world's best.

"Haha, the three beauties, don't go. Since you want to watch the tide, why not follow this Prince to the Yanjiji Reviewing Platform? The view is best there. Then return to the Wang Mansion; I guarantee to let you enjoy all the glory and wealth of the human world. Of course, the premise is that you must serve this Prince well."

Zhao Biao's gaze toward the three became increasingly heated, and he began to ponder several fresh tricks he had only thought of but never implemented. As he spoke, he habitually stuck a finger into his mouth, making his final words sound slurred and unclear.

"You are truly rude; we weren't even talking to you." Murong Wuzhu's beautiful eyes rippled, and she glared at Zhao Biao. She then whispered into Yu Liancheng's ear: "Little brother, this person is so fat, and he's such a grown man yet still sucking his finger—could there be something wrong with his brain?"

"Sister, do not judge a book by its cover. Just because you see someone as fat as a pig and sucking his finger, you shouldn't think he is childish or a stupid pig." Yu Liancheng also lowered his voice.

"I didn't; I just thought he was fat, I didn't think he was a stupid pig," Murong Wuzhu said, feeling wronged.

"Even if you didn't say it, you thought it in your heart."

"Hmph, don't think sister doesn't know, you thought the same."

Although the two lowered their voices, everyone present was sharp-eared and keen-eyed, and there was no lack of experts among them, so they naturally heard it clearly.

Strange expressions appeared on their faces, and they cast their gazes toward the Prince, Zhao Biao.

"Truly interesting." At this point, Nangong Pushe actually found it amusing; the corners of her mouth curled into an arc-like smile, and her Peach Blossom eyes shimmered with light.

Zhao Biao was initially surprised by the surrounding gazes, but after the grey-robed old man whispered in his ear, his fat face immediately changed color, filled with malice.

His pair of venomous eyes scanned the siblings, Yu Liancheng and Murong Wuzhu, and he gnashed his teeth, biting the finger he had stuck in his mouth until it bled, yet he remained unaware.

"Dead fat pig, what are you looking at? Look again and I'll dig your eyes out." Yu Liancheng glanced at Zhao Biao, then turned to Murong Wuzhu and smiled: "Sister, you must be a person of quality; you absolutely cannot judge by appearance, and even less can you curse people at will."

"Then what about you? You just cursed someone." Murong Wuzhu blinked her beautiful eyes.

"I have no quality." Yu Liancheng shrugged, looking very carefree: "Besides, that dead fat pig doesn't count as a person; it clearly isn't cursing a person."

These words were not spoken in a low voice; they even carried a strange power that spread all around, immediately causing the onlookers to discuss it in a flurry, so much so that they didn't even have time to watch the rising tide.

"Good, good, good." Zhao Biao laughed out of extreme anger, but that fat face made people's hearts feel cold.

The grey-robed old man shook his head; within the borders of Guangling, who wouldn't be scared out of their wits upon seeing this Prince? Even high-ranking noble families could only be trampled under his feet and left to be ravaged.

And once this Prince was offended, his vicious methods were enough to chill even an old veteran of the Edo like him.

He remembered a few years ago, a pair of immortal-like lovers highly praised by the Edo traveled to the Guangling River. At first, the Prince didn't bring many attendants and suffered a small loss, so he immediately returned to the mansion, brought over a dozen Guest Ministers and three hundred Iron cavalry, and blocked the couple at the border. First, he staged a live spring palace scene in front of the hero, then skinned the husband in front of the heroine, and finally used a long spear to skewer them together, making them a pair of doomed mandarin ducks.

"Wu Lao, trouble yourself to take them, especially that pair of lotus flowers; you must not harm their lives." Zhao Biao looked at the siblings, his tone cold and venomous, saying almost word by word: "I want to peel their skin off and then slice them into a thousand pieces."

"Yes, Your Highness." The grey-robed old man dismounted and walked toward the siblings, Yu Liancheng and his sister, step by step. His pace was neither hurried nor slow, and his bearing was as steady as a deep pool or a towering mountain, truly possessing the demeanor of a Grandmaster.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't treat me like a piece of furniture."

Nangong Pushe shook her head and blocked the grey-robed old man. Unless it was absolutely necessary, she would not abandon this pair of siblings.

"Little girl, why must you do this?" The grey-robed old man sighed, his robes billowing.

"Heh, old senior, why must you..." Nangong Pushe also sneered: "Why must you act as a dog for others?"

"And a dead dog at that." Yu Liancheng sighed lightly.

As soon as the words fell, a jaw-dropping scene appeared.

Only to see the black-clad youth's eyes flicker, a wisp of Sword Qi gathering at his fingertip, which he flicked out.

The Sword Qi was as swift as lightning, a deep sound of wind and thunder echoing in mid-air, and in the blink of an eye, it shot before the grey-robed old man.

In that instant, the grey-robed old man felt his entire body enveloped by Sword Qi, the chill rushing toward his face, and his soul fled in terror. But before he could dodge, his head was already shredded by the sword light, and he fell backward toward the sky as a headless corpse.

Nangong Pushe's pupils could not help but shrink; although she had vaguely guessed the black-clad youth's identity and cultivation, she had never expected it to be so astonishing.

Although this grey-robed old man's internal energy had not been fully revealed, he was at least a Second-Rank Small Grandmaster, yet he died so easily.

"You want to peel my and my sister's skin, and slice us into a thousand pieces?"

Yu Liancheng walked slowly toward Zhao Biao, wearing a smile, yet vaguely revealing an aura of demonic ferocity: "Unfortunately, you do not have the ability."

Zhao Biao's brows sank; he reined in his horse and retreated two steps, waving his hand to command the three hundred-plus cavalry behind him: "Charge, all of you charge, kill him, trample him into meat paste for me."

Boom—!

The three hundred-plus cavalrymen rushed toward Yu Liancheng, their momentum fierce, like dragons and tigers, kicking up dust that filled the sky.