61 - Crazy! Criticizing the Prime Minister for Being a Servant

### Chapter 61: Did I Just Travel Back in Time? “Master, the martial world is full of a variety of people, and its customs have always been this way. You’d best not let it anger you,” Jiang Yue said, smiling as he sipped tea from a cup on a nearby table. Hong Sheng Cen replied, “I am not angry. I am just worried that the disciples sparring on the high platform might be in danger since it's getting dark.” “Aren’t there lanterns hung beside every platform? Just look at this sword competition platform and the practice field there; it's as bright as day. It’s only in the betting areas where the shady characters converge, and they’re beyond our reach.” Ran Fan Yin had been quietly sitting there when she suddenly stood up and nodded. “Master, I need to step away for a moment.” Hong Sheng Cen nodded in approval. Ran Fan Yin descended from the high platform and walked steadily into the crowded area. Due to her cold aura and the prominent robes symbolizing her noble status as a Supreme Leader, people instinctively made way for her. Her calm gaze scanned the crowd, eventually settling on Ning Song Wu and He Lan Mian Mian, who were laughing together. She walked towards them with purpose, but as she got closer to Ning Song Wu, her steps came to an abrupt halt. The soft, yellow light cast a warm and gentle outline on her face. A few more steps would have taken her right in front of Ning Song Wu, where she could smile at her, cheer her on, and compliment her performance that day. But Ran Fan Yin remained rooted in place, watching the beaming Ning Song Wu silently. She replayed the words she wanted to say in her mind over and over, as if doing so would make them real. Ning Song Wu, engaged in lively conversation with He Lan Mian Mian, did not notice how close Ran Fan Yin was behind her. After a while, He Lan Mian Mian whisked her away elsewhere. Ran Fan Yin bit her lip, seemingly trying to control something, but she continued watching Ning Song Wu's figure disappear into the crowd, unable to utter a single word. A boorish bookmaker, carrying a box, barely avoided crashing into Ran Fan Yin as he squeezed out of the crowd. He rubbed his nose and exclaimed, “Damn, so many people! It's killing me... Oh, Miss, care to place a bet? Test your luck? It's a one-to-ten payout, a one-to-ten payout!” Ran Fan Yin lightly glanced at him. The bookmaker inhaled sharply. “Oh damn, are my eyes playing tricks on me? The Supreme Leader of the North Enforcement, what are you doing here?” Ran Fan Yin said nothing, but her icy stare was enough to freeze him in place. Breaking into a cold sweat, the bookmaker stammered, “Supreme Leader, my apologies! I didn’t recognize such distinguished company, forgive me! I’ll leave right away!” He turned to flee, but Ran Fan Yin's eyes flashed, and she grabbed him. The bookmaker pinched himself for real tears and began to beg, “Please, Supreme Leader! Spare me! I won’t dare do it again! I barely make anything all year, and I’ve got elders and kids relying on me. Running a book sometimes loses money; I wouldn’t bet if I didn’t have to! If you take this box, I…” “Place a bet,” Ran Fan Yin coldly interrupted him. The bookmaker was dumbfounded. “...What?” “I said, place a bet,” Ran Fan Yin repeated patiently. She unfastened the jade amulet from her waist and gently placed the smooth, top-grade white jade on the bookmaker’s box. His mouth fell open in shock, but he quickly recovered and carefully placed the jade in his box. Taking out the list for upcoming matches, he said, “Very well, Supreme Leader. Here, these are the matches yet to happen. You can place a bet on any of them. Which one do you choose?” Ran Fan Yin quickly scanned the list and found the name she was looking for. Pointing at Ning Song Wu’s name, she said, “Bet on her.” “Alright, got it, Supreme Leader...” The bookmaker tried to say more, but Ran Fan Yin had already resumed her silence and turned away. Ran Fan Yin returned to sit quietly on the high platform. The night she would endure was still long. He Lan Mian Mian had originally taken Ning Song Wu out for a casual stroll while looking for Cen Dye. But they didn’t expect the crowd to be so dense even at night. Among the throngs, their relatively small stature was of no advantage, leaving them to move with the flow of people. Suddenly, He Lan Mian Mian tugged on Ning Song Wu’s arm. “Hey, look over there. See who’s on that low platform!” Following He Lan Mian Mian's direction, Ning Song Wu saw a platform surrounded by an especially dense crowd, starkly contrasting the others. Due to the crowd, it was impossible to see who was sparring on the platform. He Lan Mian Mian, eager for excitement, dragged Ning Song Wu to the front, pushing their way through. Just as they squeezed in, a tall figure jumped down from the platform, nearly colliding with Ning Song Wu. Looking up, she recognized Jing Xu. “Ning Song Wu, you’re here,” Jing Xu said with a broad smile. He Lan Mian Mian teased, “Yep, your beloved is here. Aren't you happy?” Jing Xu blushed, “He Lan Mian Mian…” Ning Song Wu smiled politely. “Senior Brother Jing Xu... Are you competing?” “No, I competed ten years ago. I didn’t participate this year. I’m just helping Master manage the order since there was a minor issue.” “Oh... I see...” Ning Song Wu forced a smile and was about to pull He Lan Mian Mian away. But Jing Xu suddenly produced a long paper bag from his sleeve and handed it to Ning Song Wu. “I noticed some martial artists selling small treats on my way here. Knowing you like sweets, I bought this for you just in case I ran into you. It turns out I did. Here you go.” “Candied hawthorns?” He Lan Mian Mian laughed, glancing at Ning Song Wu. “Thank you, Senior Brother, but I don't like sweets,” Ning Song Wu said with a slight nod, politely declining as she quickly pulled He Lan Mian Mian away. He Lan Mian Mian shook her head. “You're not being honest. If you don't like sweets, why do you cook sweet and sticky dishes?” Ning Song Wu lowered her head, eyes looking aside. After a long pause, she softly said, “She likes them, so I make them.” “She?...Oh, you mean the Supreme Leader… But she has never really eaten your cooking, hasn't she? Doesn’t that make it meaningless?” “I don’t know either. She likes them, so I just... got used to it.” “Then let's hope you get a chance to cook for her every day in the future,” He Lan Mian Mian laughed, playfully nudging Ning Song Wu’s shoulder and pulling her towards an even more bustling area. In the blink of an eye, five days had passed since the sword competition began. The three Supreme Leaders and the headmasters, possessing profound internal strength, could sit there for days without resting. Nonetheless, sitting for five days straight was indeed tedious. Due to some disputes in the competition, Cheng Yun Huan had left his seat to personally handle the situation with Jing Xu. On the platform, Hong Sheng Cen sat upright with closed eyes, meditating, while Jiang Yue and Ran Fan Yin remained idle on either side. Jiang Yue’s small table held a teapot and cup. Over the few days, he had drunk countless cups of tea. Sunflower seeds shells were scattered all around, and Jiang Yue lazily leaned against the armrest, alternately cracking sunflower seeds and sipping tea. Holding a small handful of seeds, he offered them to Ran Fan Yin. “Here, want some to pass the time?” Ran Fan Yin shook her head lightly. “Don’t you get bored sitting up there all day?” Suddenly, Cang Min’s voice came from behind. Turning to look, Ran Fan Yin saw Cang Min approaching with Jiang Mang in his arms, smiling. Seeing Ran Fan Yin, Jiang Mang immediately ignored Jiang Yue and ran to her feet, hugging her leg tightly with her bright, smiling eyes. Jiang Yue laughed helplessly. “This little one only likes you and Ning Song Wu. No one else can make her smile. Look at this, she even ignores me, her master who has raised her for so long.” Ran Fan Yin picked Jiang Mang up and took out a box of white sugar pills from her sleeve, feeding them to the little girl. Cang Min pulled out a handful of various sweets from his pocket and tossed them onto Ran Fan Yin’s table with a clinking noise. “I saw a candy seller on my way up, so I bought these. No need to thank me.” Ran Fan Yin gave Cang Min a look. “I’ll give you another chance; tell me the truth.” These candies were varied and uniformly chosen, clearly not bought on a whim. They were carefully selected from different sellers. Would Cang Min have such thoughts while carrying a child? Cang Min shrugged. “Alright, fine. You saw through it. It’s not my fault. Do you have a disciple with a red mole on her forehead? I saw her standing below the platform, hesitating to come up. I asked her a few questions, and Jiang Mang recognized her too. She then handed these to me and asked me to give them to you, but not to tell you they were from her…” Ran Fan Yin lowered her eyes, her emotions unreadable. “Ran Fan Yin… Shishu…” Jiang Mang tugged at Ran Fan Yin’s robe, her soft voice saying, “Sister Ning Song Wu… likes you…” “What’s the little one saying?” Cang Min rubbed his ears and frowned. Ran Fan Yin snapped out of her daze, suppressing the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes, and replied softly, “She said, she likes me.” Ning Song Wu’s matches in the past few days had been relatively smooth. She had won all of them, though some required more effort, but victory was always hers by a narrow margin. Today’s match had something special about it. ### Chapter 61: Did I Just Travel Back in Time? After several days of intense matches, the remaining contestants were growing increasingly formidable. Every bout was becoming more challenging. By coincidence, today’s match had paired her against Lan Ze. The humiliation she suffered in childhood was still fresh in her mind. Her master had intended to investigate back then, but the continuous obligations of the sect had caused him to forget. Over time, her conflicts with Lan Ze had only deepened to the point where they couldn’t exchange a single civil word. Unexpectedly, they had crossed paths again at the sword competition. He Lan Mian Mian, having a match of her own, couldn’t accompany her. When she arrived at the competition site, Ning Song Wu frowned. The match had been set on the highest platform among all the sparring stages. Beifa Mountain was already towering, and this particular sword competition platform, situated at one of the highest points, was dizzyingly high, making one's heart skip a beat. Amidst the crowd, Lan Ze utilized her light-footed skill to gracefully ascend the high platform. Lan Ze, in her early twenties, was in the prime of her youth, exuding pride and arrogance with every move. In contrast, Ning Song Wu appeared more composed and reserved. “Little cripple,” Lan Ze sneered, twirling the long sword in her hand. “Lan Ze, stop comparing me to the child I once was, or you will regret it,” Ning Song Wu retorted coldly, drawing her much-battled Feng Yu sword. Lan Ze scoffed in disdain and, without waiting for the officiating disciple to strike the gong, swiftly launched her attack on Ning Song Wu. Given that Lan Ze had survived five days of matches to reach this point, her skill could not be underestimated. She had mastered not only the Beifa sword techniques but also the Lan family’s swordsmanship, seamlessly blending the two into an unpredictable style. Her initial moves caught Ning Song Wu off guard, forcing her into a precarious defense. Lan Ze's figure darted rapidly around the stage, her movements deviating from the typical Beifa sword arts, making it impossible to predict her next step. Holding her Feng Yu sword, Ning Song Wu frowned tightly, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Yet, her prolonged, rigorous training had not been in vain. Her body had developed a heightened instinctual alertness, allowing her to block Lan Ze’s attacks using sheer reflex. But blocking was all she could do; she couldn’t find an opening to counterattack. Lan Ze sneered, “Ha! Is that all you’ve got, little cripple?” The intense clash of their swords continued unabated, with spectators wide-eyed, fearing to miss any thrilling moment. In pure swordplay, the Feng Yu sword’s advantages couldn’t be fully utilized; it relied solely on her own technique. Suddenly, a cold voice echoed in her mind: “Take this and meet me in the Plum Orchard. Today, I’ll teach you the basics of Beifa swordsmanship.” “Watch me carefully, remember my sword movements and footwork.” “These are the six fundamental steps. Master these, as they form the foundation for all advanced techniques and also can counter them. Everything has its source; the simplest can subdue the most complex.” The foundation... the counter... Gritting her teeth, Ning Song Wu tried to recall the elegant and sharp movements Ran Fan Yin had taught her. The delicate sword cutting through plum blossoms, everything flowing seamlessly. Ning Song Wu focused her mind, stabilizing herself with the six foundational steps. In the blink of an eye, she spotted an opening in Lan Ze’s moves, ducked to evade Lan Ze’s downward strike, and swiped her sharp Feng Yu sword across Lan Ze’s waist. The blow severed the ornament hanging at Lan Ze’s waist, which clattered to the ground. “Well done! What a brilliant move!” The surrounding crowd erupted in applause. Humiliated and enraged, Lan Ze’s eyes flashed with anger. Having her waist ornament cut off made her look ridiculous! With a shout, Lan Ze used her lightfoot skill to leap and strike at Ning Song Wu's weak point—her right arm! To Lan Ze’s shock, Ning Song Wu performed an unexpected maneuver—she transferred the sword to her right hand, countering the strike with force. Impossible… Wasn’t her right hand supposed to be useless? Ning Song Wu maintained a seamless exchange of the Feng Yu sword between her hands, constructing an impenetrable defense, exploiting several of Lan Ze’s mistakes. Numerous times, she nearly struck Lan Ze, who began to falter. How could this be! She had never regarded this cripple as a worthy opponent. On just the fifth day… Losing here would bring disgrace to the Lan family! With reddened eyes, Lan Ze poured all her true energy into her attacks at blinding speed, but Ning Song Wu parried each one, gaining momentum with every clash. Seeing no other option… perhaps… Lan Ze secretly gripped a handful of silver needles in her left hand and, when Ning Song Wu was not paying attention, threw them at her! Startled, Ning Song Wu hurriedly used her sword to shield herself from the sudden projectiles, leaving her defenses vulnerable. In her desperation to win, Lan Ze, nearly in a frenzy, thrust her sword towards Ning Song Wu's chest without a second thought. The sound of fabric tearing was followed by a sickening “thud” as the sword plunged into Ning Song Wu's most fragile heartline. Blood sprayed out, splattering Lan Ze's face. The onlookers fell into a stunned silence. Ning Song Wu felt as if something had violently torn her heart open, the pain so intense she almost fainted. She stared in disbelief at the sword embedded in her chest, blood gushing out, staining the bright red Feng Yu sword. “Ah—I'll kill you—” Lan Ze roared, ruthlessly pulling out her sword and striking Ning Song Wu off the high platform with a powerful slap. With her soul seemingly sucked out, Ning Song Wu’s body plummeted like a shot-down bird from the towering platform. Her hair and clothes whipped violently in the wind, and blood continued to spurt, spiraling in the air and merging silently with the pure white Beifa sky. On another high stage almost equally elevated, a figure clad in white shot across like light, reaching the distant platform in the blink of an eye, catching the falling Ning Song Wu. Ran Fan Yin’s heart was deeply pierced by the sight of Ning Song Wu’s blood-soaked state. Her usually pale tea-colored eyes seemed to become tinged with crimson from the overwhelming bloodstains on Ning Song Wu. This site offers no pop-up ads, with a permanent domain.