Why do I have so many masters?

The flush of embarrassment that momentarily took hold of his heart vanished without a trace, as Xiahou Xuan shook his folding fan with a usual flair, maintaining his superior demeanor. Despite the arrival of autumn and the not-so-cold temperatures, he was dressed in a long robe covered by a jujube-red overcoat, which, rather than seeming inappropriate, added a touch of fragility and elegance typical of a scholar, overshadowing Wang Anfeng who stood beside him.

In his younger years, his mastery in arts such as music and painting was of Superior Rank, and the graceful, handsome servo penned for him the lines: "I was born too early in your life, and you were born too late in mine", achievements that could not be attained merely through composing tunes. Poor scholars skilled only in composing were plenty, but a nobleman like him, who excelled in music and could engage in elegant and interesting conversations and showed subtle attentiveness to matters concerning ladies, came once in a century, almost like a dream.

Regrettably, he was already engaged.

Even though his fiancée was a naïve little girl who could be lured home with a stick of candied haws.

The surrounding guards, keen and incisive in observing expressions and demeanors, acted with increased respect, yet Wang Anfeng appeared lacking in perceptiveness, his behavior towards Xiahou Xuan showing no significant difference from the way he treated the young ones who smeared mud on his family's walls in Great Liang Village. The two conversed and moved towards the Liuxu Villa, surrounded by a throng of guards.

Although the screams of Wang Bai had drawn away a good number of guards just moments ago, two stern-faced men still stood guard at the door, their left hands behind their backs and their right hands on the hilts of their swords at their waists.

Strapped to their belts were several mysterious black iron boxes, a testament to the Liu Family's heritage of hidden weapons and Qinggong, and the contents of these boxes were the widely known intricate hidden weapons of Jianghu.

Under these hidden weapons had drunk the blood of many formidable fighters, but these two men wore even more blood on their hands. Hidden weapons were their arms, yet not their sole weapons, they were the weapons of the Manor Master of the Liu Family.

And they were not the Manor Master's only weapons.

Seeing Wang Anfeng and his companion approaching, even when they were still several steps away, one of the guards spoke in a grave voice:

"Gentlemen, there is a distinguished banquet at our villa today, please present your name cards. If you have no name cards, kindly please return another day. The Manor Master has arranged a banquet elsewhere, as a sign of apology for today's inconvenience."

Xiahou Xuan gently closed his folding fan, his expression serene yet carrying a subtle air of authority, and said,

"I am Xiahou Xuan."

Hearing this, the guards' expressions tensed, they glanced at each other, saluted with their fists, and replied, "We did not know it was Mr. Xiahou visiting. The Manor Master has instructed that should Mr. Xiahou come, he is to enjoy and partake freely."

Having said that, they each took a step back, opening the way. Xiahou Xuan gently tapped his folding fan against his palm and, turning back, smiled at Wang Anfeng, "Brother Wang, take out your name card. Since we came here together, we should go in together."

Wang Anfeng fell silent for a moment, slightly furrowed his brow—where would he have a name card? Yet he remembered what Libai had repeatedly instructed when leaving—be sure to come on the fifteenth day of the eighth month—and suddenly felt a premonition that he might have fallen for one of Libai's schemes.

Although this might be a sudden development, in all his life, when had Libai ever been at a disadvantage?

When he was a child, the old man had once pointed to the sun above and declared quite mystically, "I bet there will be a thunderclap on a clear day at exactly forty-five minutes past noon."

Poor him, being only four years old at the time, spending every day reading books with his father—how could he believe such a preposterous idea? He looked at the old man, who was grinning with the naïve gaze one would give to a fool, then at the pork scraps in Libai's hand, confidently betting his father's given cookies on it.

He would never forget that day.

The thunderstorm that enveloped the skies terrified all the dogs and children in the village, causing a scene as they all lost control.

Old Man Li had worried it would scare him, so he dismantled a pillow and stuffed cotton into his ears, then proceeded to chomp down sugar cakes in front of the four-year-old, wiping the grease from his lips and sauntering off after slapping his bottom.

After his father learned of this, he laughed for a good while, until tears were streaming, before he spoke a line. The books he read during that period required multiple reviews to prevent forgetting, but that line remained firmly etched in his memory.

'There are mountains beyond mountains, people beyond people; Anfeng, what you assume is merely what you assume. Everyone who lives comfortably is certainly more capable than what you see.'

"Young Master, if you do not have a name card, please proceed to another banquet where there is plenty of good meat and fine wines and teas. There will be no neglect there."

The guard at his left took a step forward, speaking very politely. Being able to walk alongside Xiahou Xuan, he dared not slight him in the least, while Xiahou Xuan himself lightly waved his folding fan, eyeing Wang Anfeng with an amused look.

Wang Anfeng hesitated for a moment before bowing and asking:

"May I ask, elder brother, if this banquet is related to the phoenix?"

The guard's eyes brightened slightly, relieved, and he replied with a smile, "As jade fragments in Kunshan, phoenix chicks cry clearly. This banquet held by Liuxu Villa is the once every five years 'Young Phoenix Banquet' in Wangxian County, meant to invite all the brilliant young talents to gather and form bonds through martial arts."

When the young lads beneath Great Liang Mount heard this sentence, they finally confirmed that they had entered the path of Libo after several years. Even the best-tempered ones felt annoyed after being scared into running hundreds of miles to fight and compete, coldly laughing inside as they crossed out the fine wine and good meat they had planned to buy for Libo.

Not buying any for you!

Thinking hatefully about Libo, Wang Anfeng raised his hand and took out the name card he kept close, all black with no words but a lone phoenix ready to take flight, sketched in a few strokes, almost embodying a certain essence and obviously not ordinary. The guard's expression turned even more respectful, and with no trace of his former stern severity, he carefully handed back the card to Wang Anfeng and stepped aside.

People always love to rank themselves; the 'Young Phoenix Banquet' was indeed proclaimed to be a gathering of outstanding talents. Compared to ordinary cards, this phoenix card personally drawn by the head of the Liu Family was much more cherished.

The materials were rare and the technique even more extravagant, made purely of concentrated inner strength and then infusing martial arts into the drawing to create a state of Flying Phoenix. Less than three to five were distributed, each one supported by significant backing. Xiahou Xuan's eyes also revealed a hint of surprise.

His manner suggested he was indeed from an ordinary family, but how could an ordinary family have such a card?

Even the so-called masters of the Upper Third Rank, while respected by the Liu Family, might not necessarily obtain such an item.

Thinking about the youth's earlier behaviors, Xiahou Xuan found him increasingly interesting and couldn't help but laugh softly.

The interesting things in the world are often different from the mundane, like the unemotional swordsman who drinks among flowers, the illiterate young scholar, like that crazy Taoist who once, holding a clothes-drying bamboo pole, threw a fit in the ancestral hall of the Taoist Sect, proclaiming the teachings passed down by the third ancestor, claiming to see the old Taoist's true face, and stating that if the old Taoist himself saw it, he would surely beat him to death and feed him to the dogs for the peace of the world.

The Taoist has passed away, the master has aged, and that flower-drinking, unemotional swordsman no longer drinks.

But Jianghu, it remains the same Jianghu.