Chapter 45: The Grand Martial Assembly

Yun Zhonghe’s broad palm enveloped Azhi’s hand, granting her a profound sense of security. Her tense body finally relaxed, but when she reached for her chopsticks, she discovered that all the dishes on the table had been swept clean, leaving her at a loss.

Just then, the inn’s waiter emerged from the kitchen, carrying freshly prepared dishes and two jugs of wine. Once the table was laden, Yun Zhonghe uncorked a wine jar, releasing a fragrant aroma. As he prepared to pour a cup for Hong Qigong, the latter raised his hand to refuse.

Yun Zhonghe smiled slightly and reached for Hong Qigong’s bowl with his other hand. But Hong Qigong was not about to let him succeed; his hand darted out like a nimble serpent, blocking Yun Zhonghe’s attempt and preventing any wine from being poured.

Yun Zhonghe struck the bottom of the wine jar with his palm, sending it flying into the air. Their eyes met, and almost simultaneously, both men began to spar, exchanging blows and parries atop the small table.

Back and forth they went, neither yielding an inch, their movements dazzling to behold.

Azhi watched in astonishment. She had known Yun Lang was a master of martial arts, but never imagined he could exchange dozens of moves with the Beggar Chief, one of the Five Masters, without being at a disadvantage.

Hong Qigong’s heart was struck by a sense of alarm. This young man, so youthful, yet his martial skill is of such height. Should he one day become a scourge upon the martial world, few would be able to stand against him.

As he pondered, his defense faltered, and Yun Zhonghe seized his wine bowl.

Seeing this, Hong Qigong ceased his efforts.

“My thanks for yielding,” Yun Zhonghe said, catching the falling wine jar in one hand, not spilling a single drop throughout the entire exchange.

He poured a brimming cup for Hong Qigong and set it before him, filling another for himself.

Hong Qigong had already laid down his chopsticks, watching Yun Zhonghe’s every move intently. He inhaled deeply over the full cup, letting the robust aroma flood his senses, and could not help but exclaim, “Excellent wine!”

Raising his cup to Hong Qigong, Yun Zhonghe toasted, “It is my great fortune to meet you today, Elder Hong. A rare honor indeed.”

“Come, let me drink to you.” Yun Zhonghe threw his head back and drained the cup, wine trickling down his chin and soaking his robe. He cared little, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and lifting his cup in bold invitation, “Please!”

Hong Qigong watched all this, lifted his own cup, and drank heartily.

“Ha ha ha! Splendid!” he laughed, and poured more wine for them both.

The jar tilted, wine gushing out, and the two men drank cup after cup with gusto. Still unsatisfied, in the end they simply took the wine jars in hand and drank directly from them.

In no time, both jars were empty, but Yun Zhonghe remained unsated and was about to call for more when Hong Qigong raised his hand to stop him.

“I’ve had enough for today,” the old beggar said. “No more for me.”

Yun Zhonghe did not insist, sitting down without protest. Azhi, worried that Yun Zhonghe had drunk too much, considerately picked dishes for him, and after lining his stomach with some food, he felt much more comfortable.

He turned to the Northern Beggar, “May I ask, elder, have you come this time for the martial arts assembly being held in Xiangyingtian?”

The old beggar paused briefly in the act of popping peanuts into his mouth, then resumed as if nothing had happened. “Aren’t you here for the same?”

“In that case, why not travel together?” Yun Zhonghe suggested.

Azhi tensed immediately. Has Yun Lang gone mad?

The old beggar was clearly surprised by the proposal but, as a seasoned veteran of the martial world, quickly regained his composure and continued eating his peanuts in silence.

Seeing Hong Qigong’s silence, Yun Zhonghe laughed at himself. “Could it be, Elder Hong, that my reputation is so ill that you do not wish to travel with me?”

At this, Hong Qigong’s frown deepened.

Yun Zhonghe’s reputation in the martial world was not just poor—it was notorious, infamous to the extreme.

Very well, he thought. Let’s see what this young man is up to. If Yun Zhonghe truly is as wicked as the rumors claim, the old beggar would not let him off lightly.

Hong Qigong nodded silently in agreement.

Azhi was speechless with shock to see that Hong Qigong had actually agreed. A faint smile appeared on Yun Zhonghe’s face, but he said no more.

After a night’s rest, the three of them set off at dawn, having eaten and drunk their fill.

Azhi walked gloomily along the road. Last night, she had asked Yun Zhonghe for his reasons, but he had only smiled mysteriously and said, “When the time comes, you will know.”

“Hmph! If you won’t tell me, I don’t care to know!” she muttered, though Yun Zhonghe heard every word.

It was not that he did not wish to explain, but that the time was not yet right.

The three traveled together and, at dusk on the third day, finally arrived at Xiangyingtian, headquarters of the martial assembly.

Tomorrow, the great martial arts gathering would begin, the purpose being to elect an alliance leader and pursue Fu Hongxue for the killing of disciples of the Six Sects, giving the martial world an explanation. Heroes from all over had been invited; it was a rare and grand occasion.

Yun Zhonghe and his companions discussed finding an inn for the night.

Fortunately, not long after entering the city, they spotted an inn and went inside—only for Yun Zhonghe to be startled by the sight.

“Does it have to be this crowded?” he muttered.

The inn’s main hall was packed with people, all gathered for the martial assembly. A glance revealed that they were all orthodox disciples from renowned sects.

Yun Zhonghe’s arrival was like a drop of ink in a clear pool—utterly out of place. As he stepped through the door, every eye fixed upon him.

Recently, Yun Zhonghe had made quite a stir in the martial world.

“After you, Elder,” he said, stepping aside and bowing in invitation under those watchful gazes.

Who could command such deference from Yun Zhonghe? The crowd turned to look.

Under the scrutiny of so many, Hong Qigong entered the inn.

“It’s the Northern Beggar, Hong Qigong!”

“How could the Northern Beggar travel with a villain like Yun Zhonghe?”

“Watch what you say—Elder Hong is one of the Five Masters!”

The clamor grew even more raucous, and Yun Zhonghe became the center of attention once again.

At last, Hong Qigong understood why Yun Zhonghe had insisted they travel together; he must have foreseen this situation. Yet he felt this was not Yun Zhonghe’s true purpose.

Hong Qigong’s arrival caused quite a stir, with many people offering him seats, eager to curry favor. He accepted without hesitation and sat down.

Yun Zhonghe, however, received no such welcome.

The many martial artists in the hall eyed him with hostility, as if wishing to skin him alive. Among the crowd, Yun Zhonghe recognized more than a few familiar faces.

Just then, a young man shouted at Yun Zhonghe, “You lecherous fiend! How dare you show your face at the martial assembly?”