Chapter 202: Langya Sword Discussion

Chapter 202: The Sword Debate at Langya

The entire hall was stunned.

Even the man who had been rebuked was left speechless in astonishment.

They had called the demon sect uncouth, but Zhao Changhe was putting on a live demonstration of what true lack of manners meant! Well, no—what business was it of his anyway? Was Xia Chichi his wife?

Zhuque stood on a distant rooftop, gazing at the banquet hall’s entrance from afar, a flicker of surprise in her eyes.

As a demon sect, the Four Symbols Sect had no shortage of enemies. It was hardly surprising that someone would pick a fight when the Holy Maiden swaggered into such a gathering—perhaps there was even a genuine aggrieved party among them. Though it couldn’t have been Xia Chichi’s doing—she had never committed such acts—it was still normal for trouble to find her.

Hadn’t Xia Chichi asked just days ago what to do if she were bullied? Zhuque had replied then that she had her most reliable ally within.

But even Zhuque hadn’t expected this to be more than just an ally. Zhao Changhe’s protective streak was so explosive that in his eyes, bullying Xia Chichi was no different from slapping him across the face.

Though Zhao Changhe was known in the martial world mostly for his fearsome reputation, he had begun to earn a chivalrous name as well—yet he cared not a whit.

No wonder Chichi found it hard to forget him. What a headache.

Amid the stunned silence, the man finally spoke coldly: “Everyone says Zhao Changhe long ago defected from the Blood God Sect, and that he escorted a weak girl home and slew the vanguard of Maitreya, placing him among the righteous. But now it seems he’s still nothing but a rogue of the jianghu, and his so-called defection is open to question. Is the Four Symbols Sect your superior? Why else would you be so eager to show off before your masters?”

Zhao Changhe sneered. “I’ve always been a rogue of the jianghu. Who has the patience to put on airs with you? As for manners—what others wear is their own business. The host hasn’t said a word, so when did it become your place to jabber? Is that your idea of manners? Tell me your name, and let’s see which family raised such an ill-bred brat.”

“You!” The man slammed the table and stood, pointing at Zhao Changhe as if to say something, but the young master at the head seat finally smiled faintly. “This is my birthday feast. Let’s not bicker here—grant me a little face.”

The man shot a surprised glance at Wang Zhaoling, whose smile remained unchanged.

With a grumble, the man sat back down and said no more.

Both Zhao Changhe and his wife caught this detail and chuckled inwardly.

Who would be so foolish as to pick a fight without regard for the occasion? Even if he bore a grudge against the Four Symbols Sect, it wouldn’t go this far—especially since Xia Chichi didn’t even know the man. What great enmity could there be? Those with real grievances were holding back. This man’s actions were clearly orchestrated by Wang Zhaoling.

There was no other reason for this instigation—only one: to deliberately test Zhao Changhe. For the Wang family, Zhao Changhe’s identity was a matter to be handled with utmost caution.

It tested both his relationship with Xia Chichi and his temperament. Had they now gotten a read on him?

Fine. Being seen as a crude brute was best—this persona was far too useful.

Zhao Changhe raised his voice even more. “I’m willing to give the host face, you know. It doesn’t seem to be me who’s refusing to show respect. Who’s this fellow who barked before the master even spoke?”

The man glared at him, but Wang Zhaoling waved a hand. “This is my good friend, Lu Bingcheng of the Fan Yang Lu family, ranked twentieth on the Hidden Dragon List. Brother Lu was also trying to protect my dignity—after all, it’s not customary for guests to wear masks at a regular banquet. He momentarily forgot the Four Symbols Sect’s conventions. I’ll apologize on Brother Lu’s behalf. Let’s all take a step back and take our seats, shall we?”

Zhao Changhe thought to himself, *Impressive*—not the Lu family, but Wang Zhaoling’s attitude.

The Fan Yang Lu name sounded imposing, but in this world, it was heavily diluted and rather weak—maybe no better than the Tang family, or even worse. Their overall strength might be slightly above the Tangs, but they had no one in the top three of the Earth Ranking. Compared to the Wangs, they weren’t even in the same league.

Wang Zhaoling’s behavior was hardly that of an arrogant, brainless young master. With these words, wouldn’t Lu Bingcheng regard him as a brother?

Even Zhao Changhe himself—no matter how irritable he’d been a moment ago—would lose the moral high ground in others’ eyes if he kept pressing the issue now.

He turned to see what Xia Chichi would say, but the little tigress stood quietly beside him like a demure bride, leaving everything to him. When he looked at her, her beautiful eyes were full of laughter, as if to say, *It’s your call.*

Zhao Changhe smiled back and cupped his hands. “A crude man with no manners—I’ve made a fool of myself before everyone.”

Wang Zhaoling replied, “Sit wherever you like. First come, first served—no assigned seats.”

By now, Zhao Changhe had long taken in the hall’s layout. It was a vast banquet hall, but with few seats. Wang Zhaoling sat at the head, with two rows of tables and chairs stretching toward the entrance, each a single-person setup.

Behind the two rows, a wide area was filled with musicians and dancers, preparing to perform.

The “sit anywhere” approach seemed casual, unlike the meticulous seating arrangements of aristocratic families. But on reflection, it was a necessary compromise—Cui Yuanyang was here. If seats were assigned by Hidden Dragon ranking, she was only in the nineties. Putting her at the back would provoke the Cui family. But seating her among the honored guests would raise questions from those ranked higher. Was this a Hidden Dragon banquet or a family gathering?

In the end, letting everyone sit freely seemed generous and unpretentious.

Zhao Changhe scanned for a seat, and his eyes landed on Cui Yuanyang.

The little girl was staying directly at the Wang residence, so she’d arrived early. She hadn’t taken a seat at the head table but had chosen a spot in the middle—likely corresponding to her Hidden Dragon rank of ninety-nine. There she sat quietly, lifting her cloud-like sleeves to pour herself tea. The earlier commotion seemed not to register in her eyes; rankings and seating were mere clouds. With lowered brows and a serene grace, she was the picture of a proper noble lady.

Quite a few people stole glances at her, admiration in their eyes, but no one dared sit beside her.

Zhao Changhe’s cheek twitched, and he nearly burst out laughing.

Who said she couldn’t act? Playing the part of a refined lady was basic training from childhood. But why did it feel so out of place?

He thought for a moment. Given his persona, the move was simple. He walked straight to the empty seat on Cui Yuanyang’s right and sat down with a hint of awkwardness, as if wanting to look at her but too embarrassed to raise his eyes, staring instead at the table.

Xia Chichi froze for a second before catching on. This rogue was playing the part of a jianghu wanderer who’d been driven away for coveting a swan, now seizing the chance to cling to the Cui family’s young lady. His expression was vivid and lifelike. Brilliant—when had he trained in acting?

Even more brilliant was Cui Yuanyang. She lifted her eyes slightly, shot a quick glance at the uninvited guest beside her, and blushed with a mix of fluster and shyness. Her cheeks reddened involuntarily, but she pressed her lips together, said nothing, and lowered her head to sip her tea slowly, masking her awkwardness. The image of a sheltered young lady pursued relentlessly by a suitor, at a loss for what to do, was equally perfect.

Under her white tiger mask, Xia Chichi’s small mouth hung open for a long moment. Finally, she let out a “hmph,” then squeezed in on Zhao Changhe’s right and plopped down.

Just moments ago, he’d seemed to be defending his wife; now, in the blink of an eye, he was openly flirting. Xia Chichi gritted her teeth, silently adjusted the jade hairpin on her head, and found herself at a loss for words.

Quite a few people were watching, including Wang Zhaoling. Seeing this scene, they all found it amusing. They mused that Zhao Changhe was a strange one—his ranking wasn’t high, his cultivation wasn’t top-tier—yet the moment he appeared, he drew everyone’s gaze like the protagonist on a stage.

Wang Zhaoling deliberately asked, “Sister Yuanyang, is it convenient? Would you like to come sit by me?”

“N-no, it’s fine,” Cui Yuanyang said softly. “This is the Hidden Dragon banquet; it should follow the Hidden Dragon order. I’m merely ranked ninety-ninth—it wouldn’t be proper to sit in a high place.”

Wang Zhaoling said, “There’s no such rule.”

“Yuanyang has her own principles.” She shot another quick glance at Zhao Changhe and lowered her head again. “Besides, Brother Zhao has been kind to me…”

She paused, as if making a difficult decision, then bowed solemnly to Zhao Changhe. “Yuanyang greets Brother Zhao. It’s been a while, and your presence is as splendid as ever. Yuanyang is overjoyed.”

Xia Chichi hissed, her teeth nearly aching from the strain.

Zhao Changhe was dumbfounded, remembering his own words from days ago: “Your acting isn’t good enough; you’ll slip up.” Now he felt less like a protagonist and more like a complete clown.

Wang Zhaoling said leisurely, “If the information we have is correct, Holy Maiden Xia and Brother Zhao share no small connection, don’t you? That would explain Brother Zhao’s fury just now.”

Zhao Changhe’s cold sweat was about to drip, but Xia Chichi, who had been silent, finally spoke coolly: “Master Wang’s Hidden Dragon banquet—is it meant to pry into the personal affairs of the Hidden Dragons?”

“Not at all.” Wang Zhaoling laughed. “The feast hasn’t started yet; many haven’t arrived. We’re just chatting idly.”

“Since we’re chatting idly, may I add a bit of gossip?” Xia Chichi said lazily. “I hear the Cui and Wang families are forming a marriage alliance—your sister is to marry Cui Yuanyong. Master Wang, do you intend to double the bond and take Miss Cui as your own wife?”

Zhao Changhe pricked up his ears. He couldn’t tell if Xia Chichi was stirring trouble for Cui Yuanyang in this love triangle or helping him ask the question that weighed most on his mind.

But Wang Zhaoling laughed dismissively. “How could we double the bond like that? My family and the Cuis are close, but we’re not tied together. Such a thing is rarely done.”

The implication was clear: each child’s marriage was a political resource. His own marriage could secure another ally; there was no need to repeat the same family.

Xia Chichi nodded and said no more. Zhao Changhe’s heart relaxed. If you don’t covet Yuanyang, then we have no real grievance. Even if you seek independence, in theory, it’s none of our business.

But then Wang Zhaoling added with a smile, “Still, there are plenty of young talents who admire Sister Yuanyang. Brother Zhao’s arrival stealing the spotlight like a stage protagonist isn’t without reason. It’s a bit… envy-inducing, haha.”

“Clang!” From the far corner came the sound of a wine jug smashing against a table. Situ Xiao’s drunken voice rang through the hall: “Where’s the wine? Who the hell has the patience to listen to this opera? If the wine doesn’t come, I’m leaving!”

Zhao Changhe silently cheered. *Perfect timing.*

All this hypocritical probing back and forth was tiresome. What was the Wang family really up to? Might as well lay their cards on the table now.

His own identity was too sensitive. No matter how much he played the rough-and-tumble rogue, it wasn’t appropriate to speak so bluntly. But this drunkard, feigning madness with the help of drink, said exactly what needed to be said.

Just then, a noisy crowd arrived from outside. The so-called Hidden Dragon banquet didn’t have all two hundred fifty-odd attendees; in reality, only a few dozen were present. With this influx, nearly everyone had arrived.

Wang Zhaoling put away his smile and said calmly, “In truth, many have guessed that this banquet of mine is about testing swords… To be honest, there is some truth to that. But perhaps you won’t believe me—my original intention was simply to make friends with the heroes of the world.”

“We, born into privilege, have abundant resources, but our training is inconvenient. Once we step out, dangers lurk everywhere, and the malice we face far exceeds that of ordinary people—perhaps even from Holy Maiden Xia?” Wang Zhaoling shot an apologetic smile at Xia Chichi, indicating it was a joke, then continued, “If we bring strong guards, the meaning of training is lost. If we don’t, our families won’t allow it. Sister Yuanyang must feel the same.”

“Thus, we ascend the Hidden Dragon list—perhaps easier for us due to our family backgrounds—but breaking through the mortal limit and glimpsing the secrets of the hidden treasury becomes all the harder. Let alone making friends with heroes of the jianghu or finding kindred spirits among the common folk—that’s become a luxury. What else can we do but host banquets and invite guests?”

After this long speech, someone finally asked, “If the young master wants to host and make friends, wouldn’t a polite invitation please everyone? Why set up all these hurdles—testing and closing doors? You end up making enemies instead of friends.”

Wang Zhaoling laughed heartily. “Don’t call me arrogant—if someone can’t even handle a servant’s test, they’re not worth befriending. As for the closed doors, that has another meaning. Allow me to keep that a secret for now. Of course, if any of you are displeased, I offer my apologies here.”

Wang Zhaoling said, raising his cup and standing, then readily punished himself with three cups, before inverting the cup and laughing, "Speaking of testing swords, not only do I wish to try, but do all of you present not share the desire to spar with one another? Everyone is on the Hidden Dragon List, yet we are scattered far and wide, rarely meeting. Back then, Brother Yuanyong wanted to challenge Yue Hongling—he mobilized so many to track her down, then traveled a thousand li to distant Beimang—how inconvenient!"

Situ Xiao finally lifted his head from his wine cup, a sharp gleam in his eyes.

Wang Zhaoling declared loudly, "The Hidden Dragons of the Central Plains, drinking and discussing martial arts—a grand gathering at Langya! If this event comes to pass, the Wang clan of Langya is willing to host such a sword forum every few years. I wonder if everyone is interested?"

The crowd burst out, "A fine idea!"

Zhao Changhe smiled faintly, lowering his head to look at the wine cup on the table, his gaze rippling like water.

This Wang clan, what wild ambitions.