The Path of the Martial Arts BOSS
Chapter 68 - 65: Alley

Chapter 68: Chapter 65: Alley

Qing Yu and Jin Mingxuan returned to the Lingxian Pavilion, where the place was already packed with a sea of people.

Yesterday, when they had arrived, the Lingxian Pavilion had no seats to spare, and guests filled the hall. They had thought that was already a grand scene. But today, it seemed not just full but overflowing indeed.

Feng Jiu had dominated the scene for more than ten days, and many among the young nobles who had previously humiliated him didn’t want to come and see his triumphant and proud face. However, upon hearing that Feng Jiu had been defeated yesterday and was back to issue a challenge today, many of Feng Jiu’s old rivals called their friends to come over. What could be more delightful than seeing a rival lose face?

"Here they come, here they come, Jin Mingxuan is here," someone shouted loudly.

Everyone unanimously turned to look at the entrance.

"Brother Jin, you must win..."

"Junior Brother Jin, slap his face hard..."

...

The whole room was filled with people chanting and cheering for Jin Mingxuan. Scholars often belittled each other, and it used to be that Feng Jiu wasn’t so disliked. However, his ten-day domination had greatly embarrassed many scholars; in their eyes, it was as though Feng Jiu pointed at them and said, "All of you present are trash." Thus, Jin Mingxuan, who could defeat Feng Jiu, was so popular.

Of course, if Jin Mingxuan were to defeat Feng Jiu and then dominate the scene for ten or more days, the next person to become disliked might be him.

"Brother Jin, it’s your turn to perform," Qing Yu said to Jin Mingxuan.

"With Brother Meng’s support, victory is certain," Jin Mingxuan confidently declared.

With a swish of his robe, Jin Mingxuan gently waved his folding fan, walking toward tonight’s "battlefield" with a confident and mighty demeanor.

As for Qing Yu, he silently blended into the crowd to quietly observe.

At the center of the ground floor, Feng Jiu’s face was a mix of admiration and envy as he watched Jin Mingxuan welcomed by the throng. This was the purpose of his visit to the Lingxian Pavilion, and now, it was being realized by someone else. How could he not feel envious and jealous?

"Alright, since Young Master Jin has arrived, let’s start tonight’s poetry contest," the brothel owner yelled.

"Which of the two young masters would like to go first?"

"I arrived later, and it’s rude of me to have kept the Ninth Young Master waiting. Allow me to go first," Jin Mingxuan said as he closed his fan and slapped it against his hand.

"Brother Jin, it looks like you’re holding all the winning cards," Feng Jiu said darkly as he eyed Jin Mingxuan.

In a poetry contest, whether one goes first or later doesn’t really indicate an advantage or a disadvantage, but generally, people prefer to gauge the quality of their opponent’s work and act later. Usually, someone who chooses to go first is confident of victory.

"Naturally."

"Thoughts of clothes like clouds, the desire for beauty like flowers, the spring breeze brimming over the ledge brings a thick dew.

Would this scene be unseen atop a mountain of jade? Or meet beneath the moon at Yuyu terrace?"

This poem is one of Li Bai’s "Clearing Peace Melodies" written for Yang Yuhuan, having been passed down through the ages. As soon as this poem emerged, everyone was shocked, and there was noisy debate, with everyone voicing their opinions. In summary, the unanimous sentiment was that Jin Mingxuan was top-notch. (Actually, this is because the author didn’t want to write about the bystanders being shocked and all the "ah, how wonderful..." praises—it would be too awkward.)

"This is the poem I wish to present to Miss Xian Yin. Ninth Young Master, it’s your turn," Jin Mingxuan said with a smile, looking toward Feng Jiu.

Feng Jiu’s face was dark, and he turned pale without saying a word.

"Come on, say it, Ninth Young Master..."

"Can’t produce anything..."

...

The onlookers started to mock once more.

After a long while, Feng Jiu closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, "I admit defeat."

Once these words were spoken, the ridicule surged towards Feng Jiu like a tide. The identity of Feng Jiu excited many present, as the ugly words they once dared to whisper in the shadows could now be announced aloud to the public. This twisted pleasure had many lost in its thrall.

"Enough," Feng Jiu suddenly shouted angrily, "I have lost, but that is no reason for you losers to yap incessantly here."

"Cough cough..." The scene suddenly quieted, leaving only the sound of Feng Jiu coughing too forcefully.

After the brief silence, a greater storm followed.

Countless vulgarities spewed from the mouths of these seemingly cultured scholars. Qing Yu saw a scholar beside him red-faced and gesticulating wildly, even his hair crown askew—whether this was an example of fury reaching to the head, who could say.

Fortunately, everyone still recognized that Feng Jiu was a prince. Their vulgarities targeted only him, avoiding implicating any relatives; otherwise, many present might have lost their lives, and Qing Yu might have been implicated as well.

Jin Mingxuan stared blankly at Feng Jiu, who walked away disgracefully amidst the dirty talk, and suddenly felt no joy in his victory.

"Young Master Jin, Young Master Jin..." The brothel owner’s words awoke the somewhat distracted Jin Mingxuan.

"It’s time to meet Miss Xian Yin."

"Oh, okay." For some reason, Jin Mingxuan no longer felt the anticipation he had felt the night before.

Qing Yu watched Jin Mingxuan leave the scene led by the brothel owner, and silently left as well. The place was too volatile, and one could not guarantee not being implicated by some fool who, blinded by rage, might utter words that should not be said.

Meanwhile, Feng Jiu fled from the Lingxian Pavilion in a state of disarray, desperate to escape the surprised stares of the passersby. He hurriedly ran until he found refuge in a secluded alley.

The alley was exceptionally quiet; only the faint sounds of revelry from Tianyue Workshop could be heard in the distance. The vulgar words that had just swirled around him seemed like an illusion. This peace, as if suddenly distanced from the vulgar world, was something Feng Jiu deeply indulged in. In recent years, whenever he felt he couldn’t bear it, he would spend time in solitude—just a moment of quietness, and everything would be better.

Soon, Feng Jiu’s mental state relaxed, casting aside the evening’s events. Quietness brought solace, a routine Feng Jiu had grown accustomed to. Yet under the moonlight, the bitterness in his eyes was something he could never completely hide.

He straightened his slightly disheveled clothes, and Feng Jiu prepared to step out of the alley.

"Thump."

A muffled sound, and everything before Feng Jiu’s eyes went dark as he collapsed to the ground, producing another dull noise.

"This... Brother Zhang, you didn’t kill him, did you?"

Feng Jiu was always frail, and he lay on the ground motionless for a long time, so such concerns were normal.

"Idiot, don’t call me Brother Zhang; are you looking to die..."

"He’s not dead, just fainted." Brother Zhang checked Feng Jiu’s breathing.

"So do we still..." another voice asked.

"Forget it. If we really hurt him badly, we’d all be dead."

"Yeah, let’s go."

Several voices agreed, clearly frightened. As frail as Feng Jiu was, if they accidentally killed him, every one of them present would have to die with him, not to mention bringing disaster upon their families.

"Let’s go."

The chaotic footsteps quickly receded.

Under the moonlight, Feng Jiu still lay quietly on the ground, only his right hand’s fingers were slowly moving.

With deep and vicious force, his fair and slender fingers scraped against the rough ground, creating five ghastly trails of blood.

"They’re far away now. Are you still pretending?" Another voice sounded.

Without any noise or footstep, this quiet alley had a visitor for the third time in a short span.