Volume 11.5 Chapter 14

“If this old one bows to your demands, what would become of his dignity?” The elder sounded rather indifferent to Ming Feizhen’s callout, but the audience didn’t think so.

Ming Feizhen nodded. “All right, I’ll go to you.”

“Take your time. This old one owes the inn a rather big sum. If we break furniture in our match, this one will be an even bigger sinner.”

“Won’t your debt be void if it’s torn down?”

“Wine is this old one’s life. If this inn is gone, then he will die when his addiction hits. If that’s what will happen, this old one would rather pass on fighting you. Besides, wouldn’t this old one be the first one they heckle once they rebuild? The inn must stay.” If he wasn’t interested at all, he wouldn’t have said so much.

Seeing the elder wobble out and reeking of alcohol, Hua Qing commented, “Did he fall into a vat of alcohol?”

Even though he referred to himself as “this old one”, he would’ve only been fifty - tops. That being said, he’d understandably be mistaken for being older since he his short strands of hair were white and teeth were yellow - definitely attributed to the pipe hanging from his sash.

As soon as he saw the chubby man in mangled clothing, the scholar gave his allies a signal. Within seconds, they had retreated.

“How are we supposed to screw with them now?” Hua Qing scuttled over to Ming Feizhen. “Brother Feizhen, our predicament is worrying now that those people ran. We should prioritise searching for Hero Zhuo. Ignore this old man.”

“Don’t speak.” Ming Feizhen took a step forward, then saluted the elder. “May I ask…”

“Hohoho, now you want to know this old one’s name man after seeing how impressive he is? There is no need for all the formalities.”

“… When was the last time you washed yourself?”

“…” The man took out his pipe for a big puff, then narrowed his already tiny eyes on his meaty face. “It seems this old one must curb your arrogance. All right, let’s see how impressive the current generation is.”

Ming Feizhen did as he was told, doing away with his underestimations. In a second, Ming Feizhen’s aura changed, while the man appeared taller.

Ming Feizhen flitted over as fast as usual, then uncoiled a punch.

“Not bad. Not bad.” The man casually took a small step to evade, letting the ground behind him sink a few centimetres instead of him gaining a new aperture in his body.

Missing his straight, Ming Feizhen uncorked a slicing spinning hook. Missing his kick, he knife handed down.

“Nice, nice, you’re way ahead for your age. What school do you belong to?”

Despite missing his combo for the first time, Ming Feizhen smiled. “You should be able to tell, right? There’s no school that’s that hard to distinguish, is there?”

“Oho, provocation tactic, huh? Hohoho, if this old one can’t figure it out within ten moves, it will be his loss.”

“Your words, not mine.” Ming Feizhen’s aura grew more hostile.

“That’s not fair!” The formerly unconscious swordsman jumped to his feet. “Without someone keeping count, how does anyone know how many moves it has been? Do not fall for his ploys.”

A move from a discipline could vary from ten to a hundred techniques, and a hundred techniques wouldn’t necessarily consist of ten movements. Hence, it would be easy to cheat the system if they were counting “moves”.

The man palmed his face. “I apologise for my son’s embarrassing ignorance.”

Ming Feizhen smirked. “Relax, Young Master. Ten moves means ten moves.”

Ming Feizhen executed his lunging punch again at the same angle, from the same position and the exact form; however, the wind howled this time.

“Hohoho, nice.” The man evaded the same way he did the first time.

“That’s one!” Ming Feizhen retracted his extended arm, then fired it a second time the same way, dialling up his output again.

“Very nice.” The man dodged the same way again.

After a few more repeats, Su Li questioned, “Young Master Hua, why do they keep repeating the same movements?”

Hua Qing: “Ahaha, maybe they are stuck?”

The seventh punch produced a gale that lifted stalls heaven bound, impelling Hua Qing to pull the two maidens out of range. The elder’s smile vanished once Ming Feizhen, still emitting smoke from his body, unleashed his eighth punch.

“All right, try this one.” Ming Feizhen’s ninth punch burst forth without any winds.

On the surface level, all of Ming Feizhen’s punches were the same. Deeper down, however, he switched the way he moulded and condensed energy each time. The elder was the only one privy to exceptional skill Ming Feizhen embodied for he was the only person close to the teenager.

The ninth punch had the elder sweating bullets, yet the tenth one was already coming.

By all means, being able to switch the way one deployed their internal energy was impressive, but Ming Feizhen’s internal energy potency seemed to have no limit, and he effortlessly churned it out. On the tenth punch, Ming Feizhen generated enough force to make breathing laborious.

I must admit my age is catching up with me.

The elder threw his head back to back tuck backwards, deeming retreat the only means of avoiding damage.

Though the elder escaped, he noticed Ming Feizhen’s fist was still closed and a red glint in the latter’s eyes.

“Dad!”

Torn bits of white cloth rained down as Ming Feizhen readied himself for an eleventh punch, forgetting all about the deal due to thrill. When he noticed the fragments, it occurred to him that the fragments belonged to the head cloth he used to hide his white hair. In other words, the elder tore up the cloth when he evaded the tenth punch, yet Ming Feizhen didn’t realise it.

“Hmm, that’s ten. Your internal energy is balanced and potent. It’s clear that you’re an orthodox practitioner. Your internal style should be Orthodox Realm. As far as this old one is aware, there are only three disciplines that meet all the conditions. Your first three punches were very direct and strong. Next, you went extremely hostile and sinister in your urgency to win. Honestly, this is the first time this old one has come across this scenario. Young man, you have a bright future ahead of you. Why learn sinister, unorthodox disciplines? Heed this old one: it is still not too late to discard those malicious skills.”

Ming Feizhen was still trapped in a daze.

Hua Qing vocalised, “What are you on about? Old man, don’t try to change the topic. Don’t forget what you promised. Have you figured out which school my brother is a disciple of or not?”

“Ahahaha, please forgive this old one’s ignorance. The inheritor of those three disciplines couldn’t be so young. This old one can’t identify which school he is from. This old one can’t argue that his age is doing a number on him.”

“Of course, of course. How would you know?” Hua Qing responded.

Also Hua Qing: How would you know when not even I know?!

Ming Feizhen finally took his first breath, then saluted the elderly respectfully. “May I ask for your honoured name, elder?”

“You flatter me.” The elder saluted Ming Feizhen back, revealing the fact that he didn’t have his left index and pinky fingers. “This old one is Zhuo Fengrui. Some know him by the humorous nickname ‘Eight Fingers’. Judging from your reactions, you must’ve heard the name. Hero Fengrui? No, no, this old one is no hero.”

Glossary