Claiming the Throne of Gods, Starting from the Rebirth of Nezha
Chapter 68: The Logic of Who Has the Bigger Fist

Chapter 68: Chapter 68: The Logic of Who Has the Bigger Fist

The next day, Lingquan Town seemed no different from usual, yet inside the guesthouse, and even on the nearby streets, everyone could sense the foreboding tension of an impending storm.

They all learned that within this ordinary guesthouse resided a daring individual who had offended the Wang Family of Lingquan Town and even personally killed the young master’s guard.

They knew this; the Wang Family certainly knew it too.

But strangely enough, the Wang Family continued to keep silent at the time.

Nezha paid no heed to these matters; he rode his horse to the hot springs as usual. Before entering the hot spring pool, he glanced at the cloth enclosure next to him, noticing that the group of chattering girls had not yet left.

He thought to himself that the women of Sanshan Pass really enjoyed soaking in the hot springs, but feared that even the best silky smooth skin would turn wrinkled after soaking for so long.

Nezha ignored them.

Within two hot spring pools merely ten steps apart, men and women busied themselves with their own affairs. However, upon Nezha’s return to Lingquan Town, someone was already waiting silently for him there.

This man was dressed luxuriously, but Nezha, who had experienced several years of affluent life, could tell at a glance that he was a servant.

Sitting on his horse, he looked down at the man and asked, "Who are you?"

The man, who appeared to be about fifty years old, smiled faintly and said, "I am the steward of the Wang Family of Lingquan Town. I came here to relay a message from my young master, requesting that you personally come to our house and admit your wrongdoing."

"Requesting that I admit wrongdoing?"

Nezha laughed, "It was your servant who tried to kill me first. Failing to kill me, it was natural for him to be killed by me. If your young master doesn’t even understand this principle, he must be a fool."

While saying this, unexpectedly, the steward did not get angry. He said, "But in the end, it was he who died. Young man, you are young and ignorant, it doesn’t matter, but let me tell you one thing, in this world, the only principle is that whoever has the bigger fist has the reason."

Nezha snorted lightly, thinking to himself that principles are indeed principles, but he simply replied, "Thank you for that. If your young master thinks his fist is bigger than mine, let him come and find me. I’m here waiting for him, but he needs to hurry; after tomorrow, I really may not be here anymore."

The steward gave Nezha a thumbs-up, leaving behind the words "I admire your foolish courage" and then walked away without looking back.

Only then did the inn’s waiter dare to come out from the guesthouse. He craned his neck and glanced at the steward’s retreating figure, then gave Nezha a thumbs-up, sincerely admiring him, "Young master, you really have guts."

"Of course, who do you think I am?"

Nezha dismounted his horse; in the evening of Lingquan Town, patches of clouds appeared in the western sky, and the setting sun exhausted its remaining strength to ignite the surrounding twilight into a blood red.

Just like yesterday, he ordered a table of exquisite dishes, and the woman, as usual, was searching for her next patron in the guesthouse.

Yesterday someone died here.

Today, no one did.

The world still progressed at its original pace, seemingly never changing.

In the evening, Nezha continued his usual routine of earnest meditation and cultivation, pondering the True Scripture, only he woke up even earlier the next day.

Nezha wore the gentleman’s dustless pendant, so even without bathing or changing clothes, he remained clean, his clothes unstained by dust.

Yet he still got up early, bathed, and changed his clothes, as if he was about to do something very important.

More than ten days had passed, and Nezha had thought many times about how he should kill Feng Xiaonian.

Feng Xiaonian was a cultivator, but after traveling for so many days, who would expect that just when one was close to their destination, needing to relax and prepare to meet a superior, a Qiankun Ring would fly out from the guesthouse on the street and smash one’s head in.

This idea isn’t bad, but Nezha doesn’t plan to do it that way.

It’s not that he disdains ambushes, but he feels that this matter is different from the past. If I want to kill you, at least you should know why. Otherwise, after all his effort, the other person would die without knowing why, which always leaves him feeling uncomfortable.

So, he woke up early for this.

He bathed and changed clothes.

Before the street cleaning drum sounded, he moved a stool and sat in the middle of the road.

The earth dark and depressed, the wind heavy as lead weights, clouds weighed down upon his head, turbulent Primordial Qi in the cloud fighting powerfully, thunder rolling in the northwest direction as if tightly trapped by the dense clouds, the sound dull and sluggish.

Such a phenomenon, even for those cultivators who spend their days unseen by the commons fighting for their lives, quelled their killing intent and quietly waited for the world to calm down or exhaust its rage.

The persistent gong sounds ’dang dang’ started ringing, and soon, the Armored Soldier playing the gong hid by the side of the long street.

Nezha looked down, the wind pulling at his messy hair and the red silk tied around his waist.

It was about to rain, but the road was pre-sprinkled with water to prevent too much dust from being raised by the galloping horses.

Nezha rested his foot on the washed clean bluestone slab, feeling the increasingly clear and distinct vibrations from the ground.

He raised an eyebrow slightly.

Cavalry.

A troop of light cavalry was approaching, not many in number, but fast.

Soon, the riders appeared at the end of the street.

The horses sped, and the rider saw the figure sitting on the street ahead; his face was cold, not intending to stop the horse, thinking if a child got trampled, it was their own fault for not watching.

But as they got closer, covered in dust and armor, Feng Xiaonian recognized the person sitting on the chair and was shocked; without time to think why he would be there, he immediately pulled on the reins violently, the iron hooves of the battle horse leaving clear marks on the bluestone slab.

Behind him, the trained riders also stopped their horses together.

Feng Xiaonian frowned, squinting and looking forward.

Ten yards away, Nezha still looked down, fiddling with a small piece of strange transparent stone he had picked up from the bottom of the hot spring yesterday.

And just then, right behind him, a square sedan carried by four people was also slowly approaching and stopped ten yards behind him.

The bearers gently put down the sedan, then bowed their heads, eyes looking at their noses, noses at their hearts, as if nothing in the world would elicit any reaction from them.

Around them, stood two tall and burly men, similar in appearance, dressed the same, each holding a half-man-high round copper shield.

And inside the sedan was Wang Hanwen, the heir of the Wang Family of Lingquan Town, who had sent a steward from the office yesterday to deliver not so severe threats.

Nezha thought, what a coincidence.

Indeed, a coincidence.

On the street, the wind rolled the fallen leaves along the stone slab swiftly.

In an instant, a huge lightning illuminated the entire sky, racing on the roof tiles, and like a terrifying scimitar, split the sky and earth in two.

The lightning lit up everyone’s faces!

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