"I, Qin Feng, never strike at unarmed individuals!" The moment Qin Feng spoke, the sword beneath his feet—the Xie Yue Qi Xing Jian—let out a long, dragon-like howl. In that instant, the 108 sharp steel swords, all inserted into the ground in three neat concentric circles before him, flew up one by one, and their hilts landed perfectly in the hands of each disciple of the Baihua Hall, who had been kneeling before them in reverence.
The display was so flawless, so skillful, that the Baihua Hall disciples, already terrified of Qin Feng, watched in awe as the swords seemingly returned to their owners, as though guided by an invisible hand. The power and finesse of such an act were beyond comprehension, and the disciples could only tremble more in fear.
The onlookers, sensing a showdown was imminent, quickly cleared the street, making room on both sides. They sat on small benches, arranged by height, eating popcorn and drinking local wine, eagerly awaiting the spectacle. Children scrambled to the top of the courtyard walls and tree branches, searching for the best vantage point.
Qin Ren sighed, his voice filled with a hint of nostalgia. "This is really something! It reminds me of those rural movie nights back in the day. The whole town would come alive like this! Hmm… today, Big Brother is facing over a thousand opponents. This is almost like a scene out of an action blockbuster."
Xiao Xiangyue tilted her head in confusion. "Third Young Master, what's a movie?"
Liu Piaopiao, too, was puzzled. "What's an action blockbuster?"
Qin Ren rolled his eyes. "I didn't say anything, you heard wrong."
The onlookers knew well enough why they'd stepped aside. Xiao Shanhe had already fired off a signal flare, summoning the city's garrison and the Baihua Hall reinforcements. Though the garrison and Baihua Hall disciples were only foot soldiers, blocking the street would only make things more difficult. The people of Wanhua City understood their role as spectators and maintained a sense of order, allowing the scene to unfold.
A few idle men set up large tables by the roadside, shouting loudly, "Betting now! Betting now! The Star River Sword Saint, Qin Feng, the Young Master Qin, versus Xiao Shanhe, the Head of Baihua Hall, and 1,808 of his disciples, plus the city's garrison! Odds: One to one on Young Master Qin winning, five to one on Baihua Hall winning! No cheating, buy now!"
To the surprise of many, most of the bets were placed on Qin Feng's victory.
Seeing his brother prepare for bloodshed, Qin Ren knew there was no stopping him. Although he felt a pang of regret for the Baihua Hall women—so many of them so beautiful—he could do nothing. With Xiao Xiangyue on his left and Liu Piaopiao on his right, he walked into the crowd. He bought a large bag of popcorn and two bottles of homemade liquor, enjoying the moment as the two women fed him treats and drink, allowing him to relax and enjoy the spectacle.
Some of the crowd recognized Qin Ren and immediately began offering their services.
"Third Young Master, there's a seat here, please sit…"
"Third Young Master, we have two extra stools for the ladies."
"Third Young Master, I have a couple of eggs here for you…"
"Third Young Master, try this, it's homemade liquor, aged for twenty years…"
Qin Ren accepted everything graciously, then handed them over to the children around him. Seeing their innocent smiles, he couldn't help but feel a wave of emotion. "These children… they're the future of the Great Qin Empire. In fifteen or twenty years, they'll be the backbone of the Jianghu. They're brave already, unafraid of bloodshed and killing. These kids have a bright future ahead."
An honest-looking farmer, his face flushed with a warm smile, chimed in from the side. "Third Young Master is right! The children here are all raised tough, used to blood and battle. Some of them are already learning martial arts. In the future, they'll have their place in the Jianghu!"
At that moment, a burly man who ran a betting stall squeezed his way through the crowd and approached Qin Ren, his eyes full of eagerness. "Third Young Master, the big brother is stepping in personally. I've set up a stall over there. Would you like to place a bet?"
Qin Ren grinned and asked, "Now that we're in this situation, with my big brother fighting a thousand enemies alone, why is his odds lower than Baihua Hall's?"
The burly man laughed ingratiatingly. "Young Master, your brother's martial skills are unparalleled. His title as the Star River Sword Saint isn't just for show. It's not even about fighting one against a thousand—he could take on ten thousand and still win. If we set the odds too high for him, we'd never be able to pay out the winnings."
Qin Ren nodded thoughtfully, then pulled out a hundred-tael gold note and handed it to the man. "In that case, I'll bet on the higher odds—Baihua Hall to win."
The burly man's eyes widened. "Third Young Master, are you sure…?"
Qin Ren smiled, his voice low and playful. "Didn't you know about this thing called following the trend? Right now, it's clear my brother has the advantage. Everyone is betting on him to win, but there are only a few brave souls betting on Baihua Hall. When my brother wins, how will you pay all those bets? I'm betting on Baihua Hall now, and people will think I've secretly arranged with my brother for him to lose. Once they see me betting on Baihua Hall, they'll follow suit, and you'll make a lot more money. So, how about we split the profits fifty-fifty?"
The burly man grinned, clearly impressed. "Third Young Master, you've got a keen eye! We'll do as you say."
After placing the bet, the burly man went back to his stall, and soon, many of the onlookers followed suit, placing their bets on Baihua Hall based on Qin Ren's example.
At that moment, the 108 Baihua Hall disciples formed a tight triangular formation, surrounding Qin Feng. Yet, they made no move to attack. Qin Feng, however, stood firm, hands behind his back, unwavering, his presence alone commanding the scene.
The Baihua Hall disciples were waiting for reinforcements. They had the numbers, but they wanted to be sure they had the upper hand before making a move. Qin Feng, on the other hand, was also waiting. His habit was to wait until all his enemies arrived, then strike them down in one swift blow, conserving energy.
After a brief moment, the sounds of marching feet grew louder, and the garrison and Baihua Hall reinforcements arrived.
Qin Feng closed his eyes, not paying attention to the incoming soldiers. He wasn't worried about Baihua Hall or Xiao Shanhe. But he did feel something odd—there was a faint, almost imperceptible aura among the crowd. It didn't feel like killing intent, but more like someone powerful was watching him.
He couldn't tell who it was, but it was clear that the person was an expert, someone with martial prowess at least on par with his own.
For the first time in Wanhua City, Qin Feng could sense a true master among the crowd, someone hidden in plain sight, observing him closely. He didn't know if this figure meant him harm, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they might strike when the time was right.
With 1,000 soldiers and 808 Baihua Hall disciples closing in, and Xiao Shanhe standing outside the circle with his iron flute in hand, the tension reached a boiling point.
Qin Ren, chewing popcorn furiously, was glued to the scene, his eyes wide with anticipation.
Xiao Shanhe slowly raised his iron flute, holding it above his head, before bringing it down with a sudden, powerful motion. "Kill him!" he commanded.