Why do I have so many masters?

The scholar closed his folding fan with a snap, and performed a bow with a clenched fist towards the shopkeeper, smiling as he said,

"Thank you for your frankness."

With a wave of his right sleeve, a flash of silver scattered, falling precisely onto every diner's table with light clinks, each a glinting small silver piece. The sight of the silver was enticing, but the display of martial arts skill turned the diners pale, draining their faces of any color.

The scholar then pulled out a Yuanbao from his sleeve and gently placed it in the pale shopkeeper's palm, helping him to close his fingers around it while speaking in a gentle voice,

"What happens in Jianghu, stays in Jianghu."

"I ask you all to keep this matter to yourselves; consider the silver as compensation for our indiscretion."

He then performed a bow in all four directions, saying,

"Excuse the disturbance."

Afterward, he headed towards the second floor, moving effortlessly, followed closely by a stalwart man whose every step landed like a giant rock, thudding loudly, clearly a skilled practitioner of External Cultivation.

He stopped in front of a guest room, tapping the palm of his hand lightly with his folding fan.

"Under the rule of Great Qin, we naturally dare not kill good citizens."

"But to capture someone from Jianghu… Heh."

The corners of his mouth curled up. He raised his hand to push open the wooden door, closed the folding fan in his right hand, and produced a greenish poisonous blade, preparing to strike. But lifting his eyes, he saw the room was completely empty, void of any person's presence, which slightly altered his expression, losing his previous nonchalance.

He stepped into the room, followed by the stout man who asked in a gruff voice,

"Third Brother, what do we do now?"

The scholar paused briefly, his gaze sweeping over a table where he noticed a wooden box that clearly wasn't part of the room's original furnishings. He quickly walked over, pausing only briefly three steps away. With a flick of his right hand from his waist, a prism-shaped flying dagger shot out, flipping the box open. There were no hidden weapons or poison gas emerging from it.

While he felt a slight relief, he also felt ridiculous.

After all, it was only a fourteen-year-old book guard. How could he have the means of old Jianghu?

Immediately, he was at ease and walked over to find only a neatly folded white paper inside, picking it up and unfolding it to reveal three inked characters.

"Seeking death?"

The writing was plain, but combined with the empty room, it became a profound mockery.

The scholar's expression turned cold, and he sneered,

"Excellent 'Seeking death,' excellent book guard, excellent Wang Anfeng!"

"Youngest, turn this inn upside down!"

"The Flying Eagle is still present; I don't believe he can escape far!"

The stout man replied and was about to leave when the scholar's eyes swept over the three inked characters again, his annoyance profound. Channeling his Inner Strength, he directly shattered them into dust.

At that moment, the ordinary white paper suddenly exploded into countless specks of powder which, powered by the scholar's Inner Strength, spread immediately to envelop both of them. The scholar's expression changed drastically; he swiftly held his breath, but it was too late. He felt his head spin and then intense pain all over his body, almost making him collapse.

Filled with terror, he pulled out a porcelain bottle, frantically pouring Detoxification Pills into his mouth like candy.

Two Seventh Rank Martial Artists were forced to meditate right there for several hours before they could barely suppress the poison, sensing its variability belonged to the Ninth Grade, already the extreme limit of what they had experienced in their lives, exceptional and masterly.

Having calmed down somewhat, the scholar in the green robe withdrew his Inner Strength and opened his eyes, his face pale.

Thinking back on his earlier arrangements, and now realising how simple they seemed, yet he had moved like a puppet manipulated by others, stepping into every trap. He clenched his teeth and suddenly laughed coldly.

"Well done, spending days hunting geese, never expecting to be pecked in the eye."

"Well!"

The laughter paused slightly as the scholar gritted his teeth.

"Excellent book guard! Excellent Wang Anfeng!"

The stout man, being a primary practitioner of External Cultivation with enormous strength at the root, had powerful strikes but relatively weak Internal Cultivation. Now able to speak, his voice hoarse, he asked,
Continue reading on empire

"Third Brother, shall we continue to search?"

The scholar glanced at him, sneered, and said,

"Search? Search for what."

"With that creature's scheming mind, he naturally wouldn't be here. He must have used some method to escape the surveillance of the Flying Eagles. Heh, after he left, he must have been galloping away on his horse."

"Let us meditate and cultivate, release the Flying Eagles and let them find him!

The burly man responded and closed his eyes to suppress the poison with his substantial Inner Strength, while the scholar struggled to get up and walked to the windowsill, taking out a strange bamboo whistle from his bosom.

He was talented and smart, though not able to synchronize with the Flying Eagles as his companion could, he could nonetheless barely control them. Moments later, the two eagles soared into the sky simultaneously. The scholar watched the distant skies and started to coldly laugh, his eyes filled with icy vengefulness, but he did not foresee the hidden changes in the poison.

Distracted, he failed to suppress it, his steps faltered, and he immediately knelt on the ground.

A pained expression appeared on his face as he gritted his teeth and said:

"Wang, An, Feng..."

........................…

On the official road, Wang Anfeng had changed back into his blue attire, riding the Green-Maned Horse at a slow pace.

He felt as though he was nearly seeking death.

Despite his calm demeanor, his heart was pounding rapidly, occasionally looking up at the clouds above. When he spotted a silver-feathered Flying Eagle, his eyes slightly brightened, and his heart beat even faster, his breathing even becoming a bit hurried. He bit his teeth and spurred his steed, heading once again towards the nearby city.

The city was named Yuzhang.

It was in the south, farther away from Guan City.

Upon entering the city, as always, he entrusted the Green-Maned Horse at the stable and went to an inn far away. Although he was quite certain that the enemy would not dare to harm an innocent, he still felt guilty and paid three times the silver, renting a room.

He secured the doors and windows.

Wang Anfeng let out a breath, but perspiration still seeped from his forehead.

The Flying Eagles were very fast, and his pursuers were stronger Martial Artists than himself.

To shake off their encirclement, the only way was to make them think he was not heading for Guan City, misleading their direction, then taking shortcuts at high speed.

The young man grit his teeth and surveyed the room.

The previous arrangement was made casually by Mr. Ying, but this time, Mr. Ying asked him to do it himself.

His heart was still pounding rapidly, and slowly a plan began to form in his mind.

........................

In the city of Yishan.

The Flying Eagles descended, circling low in the sky, the expression in the scholar's eyes revealing disbelief, his face slightly cold.

"He's actually heading towards the County City?"

"Doesn't he plan to go to Guan City anymore?"

First disbelief, then recollecting that the Qingfeng Edge journey was merely for a birthday celebration, if it were him, he would make the same decision.

But the closer to the County City, the more prosperous it becomes, also making it harder to take action.

The scholar paced back and forth, his heart restless. He wrestled with himself several times, and eventually gritted his teeth. From a small bamboo tube by his side, he extracted a tender yellow Spirit Bird—which, although not comparable to the silver-feathered Flying Eagles, was still quite rare and could travel thousands of miles to find its master after being sent with a message.

He wrote a brief message, tied it to the leg of the Spirit Bird, and released it. He watched as the bird disappeared into the distant sky at a speed no less than that of a falcon before he turned back.

The burly man stood up, his voice rough:

"Third brother, what shall we do?"

The scholar's face darkened, recalling the ruthless and merciless nature of their leader.

Having been played and encountering an issue, it was probably enough to enrage him. Trembling in fear inside, he exhaled and said:

"Keep chasing!"