The Empress's No.1 Lackey-Chapter 1140 - 619: Zhao Douan: Old Bastard, You Want to Talk Face With Me? You... Are Worthy?
Even a small portion of the court experts resting in the cabin came out.
The Young Master, clad in bright silver armor and clutching a thousand-mile tube, was momentarily stunned when he saw Zhao Douan approaching, his gaze falling upon the white-robed female knight beside him wearing a fox mask:
"This is..."
He couldn’t recall there being such a person on board.
Zhao Douan met the suspicious gazes of the crowd and calmly explained:
"A female court tributor, an aide mobilized by my command."
He then pushed through the crowd: "What has happened? Why such a fuss?"
A female court tributor? When did she board the ship?
Tang Ping and the others were bewildered, but sensibly refrained from asking further questions.
The three women of the Yu Xiu sect simultaneously furrowed their brows, sensing a subtle threat emanating from this mysterious white-robed woman.
This startled the Daoist woman, prompting her to wonder, where did this expert emerge from?
Or was she a powerful figure secretly hidden by the court?
Just like Lang Shiba and Ji Yue?
But that sense of threat quickly vanished, like an illusion. The Empress restrained all her qi mechanisms, appearing exceptionally ordinary, simply following behind Zhao Douan.
Tang Ping hurriedly said, "Sir! Look ahead!"
Zhao Douan stepped out of the crowd and then saw that the river ahead was a mountain, and at the mountain’s corner, a fleet of ships slowly emerged.
This fleet was quite peculiar, not warships, but mostly small boats, scattered and yet grouped together like a swarm of locusts.
Zhao Douan enhanced his sight, his pupils gleaming with golden light, clearly seeing that each small boat was manned by differently attired Jianghu people.
"It’s the Coastal Martial Arts!" Tang Ping said gravely:
"If I’m not mistaken, these are local strong Jianghu figures, and leading several of them are sect leaders from Jianghu sects."
Speak of the devil.
Zhao Douan raised his eyebrows, glancing at the Empress beside him and explained:
"It seems some decent figures have finally come to intercept us. I wonder if these people represent Qingshan, Prince Chen, or both."
The Empress’s white clothes fluttered, her red silk belt dancing in the river breeze.
Her gaze swept over the majority of Jianghu guests, landing only on a significantly larger ship at the center of the fleet.
Vaguely visible, an elderly man with white hair stood on the deck, his loose clothing billowing in the wind.
"Zuo Tang." Xu Zhenguan thought for a moment, recalling the name.
...
...
At this moment.
On the other side of the great river, local Jianghu experts in the fleet also gazed at the distant official ship.
Each person subconsciously gripped their waist weapons, their expressions solemn. A few were eager to try, rubbing their fists and wiping their palms.
"Ahead is the ship of the Chaos Suppression Grand Commander, the Empress’s imperial consort."
At this moment, a middle-aged man with a chin full of blue stubble, twin swords slung across his back, and wearing a short sleeve shirt, said in a deep voice on the central deck of the fleet.
"Tch, such a flamboyant flag, visible from afar. Besides that Zhao, who else would it be?"
Surprisingly, it was a woman who spoke.
She looked about thirty, quite charming, wearing a well-cut cloth skirt, glamorous in her glances, with a whip hanging from her waist, coiled like a snake.
At this moment, she chuckled:
"I’ve heard Zhao Douan is quite the looker, today we can feast our eyes on him."
Beside the woman, a wiry martial artist, resembling a large monkey, sneaked a glance at her ample bosom and clicked his tongue:
"Aunt Gu, stop causing such waves. Zhao Douan isn’t some small fry of the Jianghu. Be careful when we get close, he might cut those two pounds of meat off your chest to pair with his wine."
The woman first glared at him angrily, then smiled, glancing back:
"We, today, are just extras. When will it be our turn to shine? Whether we can repel Zhao Douan, we ourselves are useless, this hundred-odd people are also useless, the key is relying on the Alliance Leader Zuo, right?"
On the ship, experts from various large and small sects looked towards the white-haired elder with reverence.
Zuo Tang, with hair and beard all white, wore a simple, loose gown.
At this moment, as the river wind blew in, the robe inflated like a balloon.
The old man’s waist was tied with a hemp rope, an apricot-colored wine gourd hanging on the left side, and on the right, crookedly, was half a broken sword.
Coming a little closer, one could smell the strong scent of wine, complemented by the wine nose and freckled face, there really wasn’t much of a masterly demeanor.
Yet in this Jianghu, the most guarded against were none other than: the old, women, and children.
Merely because those who could wander the Jianghu unhindered with a seemingly frail body were indeed extraordinary.
"Hehe, Lady Gu, don’t kill me with kindness," the white-haired elder smiled, showing teeth:
"I’ve retired for years, grown old and weak, not like you youngsters. What’s left is nothing but a little experience, as for being an alliance leader, don’t even mention it."
The elder’s tone was light.
However, upon his speaking, the surrounding hundred martial artists fell silent, looking over with respect.
With a demeanor of "if Spring doesn’t speak first, which worm dares to make a sound."
"However..."
The elder named Zuo Tang shifted his tone, stepping towards the bow of the ship, each step accelerating the entire vessel.
Ten steps out, he reached the bow, and this slightly lagging shipyard shot forward like an arrow off a string:
"Later in battle, don’t act tough, if there’s an unbeatable opponent, I will naturally offer some protection."
In the speeding fleet, over a hundred martial artists cupped their hands, saying in unison:
"Long live the Old Alliance Leader!"
...
"Zuo Tang?"
Zhao Douan found it familiar, thought for a bit, then said:
"That ’Wine Sword Immortal’? Your Ma... you also know?"
