Dance Of The Dragons
Chapter 415 : Discussion Conference (4)

Chapter 415: Chapter 415 : Discussion Conference (4)

Meng Xijun was there with his younger brother, Meng Xiyan, who was chatting animatedly with another cultivator at the table next to theirs.

Qiao Wei’s gaze swept across the room, searching for Zhang Fengxi. Confusion flickered across his face as he realized that the alpha was not present in the banquet hall at all. So where, then, had he disappeared to?

"Master Qiao Wei, welcome, welcome! Please do not stand on ceremony, take a seat!"

Shang Zichen pulled at Qiao Wei’s elbow and led him to the empty table.

"By the way, where is your sect’s guest disciple? I heard that he is surnamed Zhang."

"I wish I knew," Qiao Wei replied helplessly. "We got separated before. I hope that he is not lost."

"Oh, nothing will happen to a cultivator of his caliber, I am pretty sure about it."

Just then, a defiant roar boomed through the banquet hall, shattering the merriment inside the Autumn Breeze Pavilion.

Zhang Fengxi marched into the pavilion, dragging a whimpering youth behind him by the scruff of his neck. His long hair trailed like a dark banner, marking their turbulent arrival.

When his eyes landed on Qiao Wei and Shang Zichen, his lips curled up into a smile.

"Brother Qiao Wei, Second Young Master Shang, I found this rascal throwing bombs at the entrance of the palace. Do you maybe know him?"

"Ahhhhhhh!!!"

Shang Zichen cried out when he recognized said rascal. It was the young man he and his two martial art brothers fought the previous night, the one who escaped thanks to Qiao Wei’s interference.

"Huang Taichen, we finally got you!"

Huang Taichen shot Zhang Fengxi a poisonous look.

"You... Just wait!" He growled angrily.

Zhang Fengxi let out a playful chuckle at him, a twinkle in his eye that dared him to take offense.

"Huang Taichen, how dare you cause a ruckus at Tian’an Jade Palace and disrupt the Discussion Conference Banquet?" A booming voice, sharp as a honed blade, cleaved through the air, slicing through the festive murmur of the banquet like lightning.

All heads turned as Shang Daoming, his presence a tangible force, descended the dais. As the reigning leader of the Tian’an Shang Sect, his stern gaze commanded attention, leaving no room for frivolity.

Huang Taichen scowled at Sheng Daoming for a brief moment before he lowered his head in resignation.

Sheng Daoming then turned to glare at Shang Zichen.

"I asked you to capture this brat a week ago, and you failed me every time. Now we have to inconvenience our guests from the Wushan Temple Sect. Zichen, you should be ashamed of yourself."

To save Shang Zichen’s face, Qiao Wei swiftly spoke up.

"Sect Leader Shang, the fault lies with me. If not for my interference last night, Second Young Master Shang would have apprehended this young man."

Shang Daoming snorted.

"He brought two senior disciples with him. He should’ve taken this scoundrel into custody last night, interference or not. And then, this," he gestured disdainfully towards Huang Taichen, "would not happen."

Qiao Wei opened his mouth to further speak on Shang Zichen’s behalf, but Zhang Fengxi spoke ahead of him.

"To be honest, I was lucky. I crept behind this young man from behind and captured him when he was focused on bombing the entrance."

Triggered by Zhang Fengxi’s words, Huang Taichen started hurling obscenities at him.

Shang Daoming turned to look at several of his disciples and barked, "Take him away!"

With a scoff, he turned to Qiao Wei and Zhang Fengxi and said, "I appreciate your help. Please, continue to enjoy the banquet."

"Thank you, Sect Leader Shang."

Zhang Fengxi’s fingers grazed Qiao Wei’s elbow, guiding him toward their designated table.

Qiao Wei itched to ask where Zhang had been. Surely he didn’t spend hours at Tian’an Jade Palace entrance, watching for any troublemakers.

Unfortunately, the banquet’s festive buzz muted his inquiry. He ate sparingly, a sullen shadow against the joyous backdrop, until the final chimes echoed, signaling the end of the festivities.

Even then, Qiao Wei had to tolerate Meng Xijun and Meng Xiyan’s presence, because all four of them were staying at the same pavilion.

"Ahhhh, the food was so good," Meng Xiyan sighed while patting his stomach. "I have never eaten that much. I think I will spend the entire day in bed tomorrow."

"Forget it," Meng Xijun said in response. "Tomorrow is the Discussion Conference. You better keep your eyes open and your ears sharp. I expect an active participation from your side."

Meng Xiyan groaned.

"Big Brother, I am just a puny member of Dalian Meng! No one will listen to me, not that I have anything important to say, hahaha~"

Once the four people reached the pavilion, they exchanged cordial good-night greetings before going to bed.

Qiao Wei, however, harbored a different intention. He considered lingering behind, hoping to confront Zhang Fengxi alone.

Alas, his plan unraveled swiftly.

With an exaggerated yawn, Zhang Fengxi stretched his arms above his head and mumbled, "Good night, everyone. See you tomorrow morning."

The man then disappeared into his chamber like a wisp of smoke.

Disappointment gnawed at Qiao Wei. He followed suit, entering his own chamber, the silence amplifying the hollowness within him. Never had he felt so profoundly alone.

Maybe Zhang Fengxi was just too tired, Qiao Wei told himself.

He shouldn’t be so sensible.

He was a man.

And he was the Venerable Sword Saint of Wushan.

Qiao Wei gingerly pushed himself off the bed to change into a night attire.

He had just shed his outer robe, reaching for nightclothes, when a rustle at the window made him reach for his sword instead.

A while later, a pair of hands reached out and pressed against the window sill. With a mischievous grin across his handsome face, Zhang Fengxi vaulted himself inside the chamber.

"Baby, are you still angry?" He said in a voice as sweet as honey. "Don’t be mad anymore, I bring you some treats."

A wave of suppressed emotions washed over Qiao Wei as he stared at him, his lips quivering with unspoken words.

Zhang Fengxi’s smile vanished like smoke as Qiao Wei’s tears streamed down his face.