Chapter 204: Using The Sword To Accompany Wine

Chapter 204: Sword as an Accompaniment to Wine

Wang Zhaoling's expression was grim.

They truly could not coerce Zhao Changhe, nor could they casually kill him.

Although they had not discerned the true relationship between Zhao Changhe and Cui Yuanyang, no matter how one looked at it, Zhao Changhe was still Cui Yuanyang's benefactor. The Cui family had gifted the Dragon Sparrow, and the message was written plainly on their faces: "Our family acknowledges his status." Without this endorsement from the Cui family, who would recognize Zhao Changhe's identity? They could have killed him in secret and been done with it, but now they could not.

The Dragon Sparrow had brought Zhao Changhe many inconveniences, yet its benefits were equally great—everything has two sides.

Now, Cui Wenjing's attitude hung like a sharp sword overhead. The Wang family absolutely did not wish to offend an ally like the Cui family; if they did, what grand schemes could they pursue? They might as well go home, wash up, and sleep.

Let alone Cui Wenjing—even within the Wang family's own vast network of allied forces, disciples, and former officials, it was hard to say how many would support the murder of a prince. If word ever got out, the Wang family's power could collapse overnight in turmoil.

This was the greatest difference between the great aristocratic families and those demonic cult followers. In everything they did, they required legal justification. Once they strayed from this principle, historical lessons would show them the severe consequences. But if they handled it well, achieving their goals would be far easier than for those rebellious cultists—they merely needed to change the banner...

Wang Zhaoling glanced at Cui Yuanyang with a pained expression. Cui Yuanyang blinked her eyes, looking like a little rabbit who understood nothing at all. Wang Zhaoling knew he could not expect any stance from her; her mere presence as a mascot was already a gesture of goodwill from the Cui family.

Cui Yuanyong had not come not because of the "no meeting before marriage" excuse... It was purely because the matters he could represent differed from Cui Yuanyang's significance. He had deliberately avoided the situation, sending only a young, ignorant little rabbit. Whatever happened, the Cui family could play dumb.

All of them were foxes that had lived a thousand years.

After a long silence, Wang Zhaoling decided to give up on winning Zhao Changhe over.

After all, as long as Zhao Changhe sat there and did not storm off to ruin things, outsiders would not know the truth. They could interpret it as his support and participation, so there was no need to create further complications.

With this thought, Wang Zhaoling forced a smile again and clapped his hands: "Very well, then. Whether you participate in the sword debate or not, I, Wang, thank you all for coming to celebrate my birthday. Let us first eat and drink our fill, so we have the strength for the sword debate... Servants, bring the dishes! Strike up the music!"

"I'll pass on the food." Situ Xiao stood up unsteadily, stretching lazily: "Situ has enough wine; now I only lack a sword to go with it."

Wang Zhaoling was taken aback: "Brother Situ, what do you mean..."

Situ Xiao chuckled: "Old Wang, don't let your mind be too cluttered and forget the fundamentals. Earlier, everyone speculated that you used your birthday as an excuse to invite the world's hidden dragons to test their swords. To be honest, though arrogant, it suited my taste. To challenge all the heroes under heaven—that is the spirit of a martial artist. I am happy to join you in this trial of the sword, to spar and learn from each other, to gain something together. Do you think I traveled all the way from Huguang to attend your banquet just for a meal?"

Wang Zhaoling's expression gradually turned serious.

Situ Xiao said lazily: "You, Wang Zhaoling, speak of the hardships of training and invite the world's heroes here, yet for what filthy, trivial matters do you waste this good opportunity? Look back and ask your heart—do you not feel regret?"

He slowly drew the heavy sword from his back: "Situ Xiao of the Divine Radiance Sect challenges the hidden dragons of the world, to accompany you all with wine! Who dares to fight?"

The hall fell silent. Wang Zhaoling took a deep breath.

He had built the stage, but it had become Situ Xiao's arena.

Yet this was the original intention...

Even Wang Zhaoling himself felt a surge of heroic passion stirring within.

But how could the sword debate begin with the two strongest fighters stepping down to clash like this? Wouldn't the subsequent Hidden Dragon Sword Debate become a joke?

To truly elevate one's status and prestige, one should sit in the seat of honor, watch others compete, and then, when the victor challenges, defeat them in battle—that would be the perfect finale.

Wang Zhaoling suppressed the martial heart that urged him to step down, forcing a smile: "Since Brother Situ wishes to test his sword, I assume he will not rely on brute force. Who is willing to step forward and spar with Brother Situ, exchanging techniques?"

Silence fell. Who would be foolish enough to go? Situ Xiao had never said he wouldn't use brute force, and even if he didn't, no one had the confidence.

It was like back then with Chi Li—only Yue Hongling could match him in battle. Now, with Situ Xiao standing there, the only one who could truly fight him was Wang Zhaoling himself.

Situ Xiao stood in the center, sword in hand, yet no one responded for a long time. The tattered drunkard's eyes gradually revealed clear disappointment and disdain.

Yue Hongling had ascended the Human Ranking; Cui Yuanyong had deliberately avoided the scene. There was no one here—what Hidden Dragons were these?

Suddenly, laughter came from the sidelines: "A toast to Brother Situ!"

Everyone turned to look. Zhao Changhe had flung his wine cup, sending it straight toward Situ Xiao in the center.

Situ Xiao's eyes lit up instantly.

Wang Zhaoling twitched the corner of his mouth: "Brother Zhao, didn't you say you wouldn't participate?"

Zhao Changhe replied with great surprise: "I happened to meet Brother Situ at the banquet and felt an itch to spar a few moves. I'm not competing for any reward—what does that have to do with the Wang family's sword debate?"

Wang Zhaoling: "..."

Xia Chichi let out a "pfft" of laughter, her slender hand that had been resting on her sword hilt gradually relaxing.

She had also wanted to step down but hesitated due to the implications of her identity. She never expected Zhao Changhe to be so shameless.

But the onlookers had no time to think too much; their eyes were fixed on the wine cup.

The cup was full, the liquid nearly level with the rim. Yet as it flew toward the center, not a single drop spilled, showcasing control of exquisite precision.

"Yue Hongling's Sunshot Feather Dagger technique, combined with the gentle, rippling intent of the Tang family's Clear Ripples—blended together, it is indescribably marvelous," Wang Zhaoling murmured to himself. The fighting spirit in his eyes grew more and more restless, almost making him forget the true purpose of this banquet.

Situ Xiao's eyes were also filled with delight. He slowly raised his heavy sword horizontally.

With a "clack," the bottom of the cup precisely grazed the sword's edge, sliding along the blade until it reached the hilt, where it paused. But instead of falling backward and spilling, the cup tipped forward, and the wine shot out like an arrow.

Situ Xiao opened his mouth to catch it. Not a single drop of wine was wasted, and the cup landed steadily on the blade, as if someone had just poured it for him.

"Excellent wine!"

Situ Xiao laughed heartily. He slapped his waist, and the stopper of his wineskin popped open. A stream of wine shot out, landing precisely in the cup. When the stream stopped, the cup was perfectly full.

Then he swept his heavy sword: "Returning the toast to Brother Zhao!"

Though the heavy sword weighed dozens of jin, it swept through the air with a roar and struck the cup with only a faint "ding." The cup flew back gracefully, the wine inside still unspilled.

This move was far more difficult than Zhao Changhe's earlier toss. In terms of pure skill, it surpassed Zhao Changhe.

Zhao Changhe did not try to show off further. He simply reached out, caught the cup, and drained it in one gulp, exclaiming with delight: "Good, good! Excellent swordplay! Excellent skill!"

With that, he set the cup down on the table and drew the Dragon Sparrow!

A dragon's roar rang out. A dim, blood-red light crossed the hall, shooting straight toward Situ Xiao in the center.

Situ Xiao casually swung his sword to parry. But mid-flight, the blade's blood-red light shifted. Zhao Changhe's figure seemed to glide through the air, stepping sideways with effortless grace, then transformed the slash into a thrust aimed at Situ Xiao's chest.

Situ Xiao's expression finally turned serious. He hastily sidestepped to avoid the thrust, his face alight with wild joy: "Good! Excellent swordplay! Excellent footwork!"

Excellent swordplay...

Many onlookers were baffled. Wasn't Zhao Changhe using a blade—a ridiculously large broadsword at that?

Yet that thrust just now was pure sword intent. Where did he learn swordsmanship, and how had he fused it into his blade techniques? Was such a feat possible for a newcomer to the martial world?

"The Tang family's Water-Treading Ripples..." Wang Zhaoling murmured to himself. "That sword technique—I can't identify its origin. Most likely, Tang Wanzhuang helped him integrate it into his blade. His relationship with Tang Wanzhuang..."

Cui Yuanyang pouted, sniffing softly.

"Clang!" The blade and sword finally clashed for the first time. But it was not the violent collision of heavy sword and broad blade that people had imagined. Instead, they scraped past each other, producing a harsh, grating sound.

The two figures passed each other. In that fleeting moment, each struck with their left hand toward the other's chest and ribs, then exchanged a rapid flurry of palm strikes.

Zhao Changhe's fingers brushed against Situ Xiao's ribs, feeling as if he had touched iron—nothing happened, and his fingers even hurt a little. Situ Xiao's finger jabbed into Zhao Changhe's Yutang acupoint, but similarly, nothing occurred.

They passed each other and turned to look back.

Zhao Changhe rubbed his chest where the Yutang point was, feeling he had lost. The other man's body-hardening technique left him unharmed, while Zhao Changhe had only shifted his acupoint—it still hurt. A loss.

Situ Xiao's joyful expression turned somewhat odd: "Brother Zhao..."

Zhao Changhe: "Huh?"

"You, a grown man, are using a delicate 'Flower-Picking Grasping Hand' on me? Are you going to reach in and feel me up next?"

"...I don't know any fierce palm or fist techniques, and I've been looking for some. Why don't you teach me?"

Situ Xiao's face twisted into a mix of amusement and exasperation: "You really don't hold back, do you?"

Having spoken, he held his sword with both hands, his body slightly hunched, his tiger-like eyes fixed intently: "Our sect's fist and palm techniques—though not exactly what one would call fierce and violent—have something to admire in their iron-like firmness. Brother Zhao, if this battle allows me to gain something, I would not mind gifting you a set of these techniques. What harm would there be?"

Zhao Changhe stood with his blade horizontal, his feet slightly shifting, as a soaring bloodthirsty aura roared upward: "In comparison, what I, Zhao, would rather see is how this heavy sword without an edge achieves great skill through seeming clumsiness."

Wang Zhaoling: "..."

Was this the Langya sword debate he had desired?

On the surface, yes, very much so.

But why did it feel so off...

Before this display of sword and blade elegance, Wang Zhaoling seemed to have become a mere passerby, no longer cared about by anyone.