Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 771 - 62 Mid-Autumn Festival Banquet (Combined)
Chapter 771 -62 Mid-Autumn Festival Banquet (Combined)
For a moment, the entire Liangzhou City lit up; to Wang Anfeng, the clamor of the crowds seemed to flow with his boiling blood, straight into his heart. The streets, though increasingly crowded, were at least in motion.
Today’s Lantern Festival was Liangzhou’s biggest annual event, even grander than the New Year celebrations. Throughout its seventy-plus district markets, small shops displayed strings of red lanterns, while larger businesses paid silver coins to commission elaborate lanterns. If one side featured the “Dragon Draws Water,” the other had to exhibit the “Phoenix Spreads Its Wings,” adorned with colorful silk, splendid and vibrant.
Along the intersecting main roads were all sorts of performers for the people to see; foreign women with slender waists danced barefoot on round drums, their supple bodies adorned with silver bells at the waist and anklets, creating a unique charm that drew countless admiring men.
The streets were bustling, and although walking became challenging due to the shoulder-to-shoulder crowds, even someone like Wang Anfeng, who possessed superior qinggong skills, dared not act carelessly. A panicked stampede among the citizens could lead to severe injuries or worse, and they would be held responsible for any such incident.
Two elderly men with graying hair walked at the forefront, neither yielding to the other, while Wang Anfeng followed by their side. Despite his attire attracting the gaze of many young women passing by, he remained undistracted and kept his eyes forward, moving slowly with his right hand hanging by Qinshuang’s side.
Sikou Tingfeng followed behind, noticing Anfeng’s fingers and wrist subtly drawing circles, his qi mechanism mostly retracted, leaving just a trace that effortlessly wove layers of soft qi force to gently push away any pedestrians who came too close.
The Number One Manor in the World boasted five grandmasters, with its Manor Master ranking among the top ten in the world—an expert with unrivaled palm techniques, and the manor housed thousands of books, all filled with Jianghu martial arts classics, including some long-lost rare skills. Qinshuang, having read many of these since childhood, had become deeply knowledgeable.
Yet even with her keen eyesight, she couldn’t identify the type of vigorous qi Wang Anfeng was using with his right hand, which sparked her curiosity.
She had seen her share of lavish lantern displays and wasn’t particularly impressed by the loose movements of the foreign dancers. In contrast, Wang Anfeng’s exquisite and rare hand technique stirred her heart more, prompting her to unconsciously step forward, eyes fixated on his gently circling palms, pondering to herself.
From her observation, it seemed to be a kind of palm technique, with its soft qi force probably more effective for entangling than direct confrontation—an auxiliary martial art.
Just then, she abruptly heard the previously good-natured youth let out a cold snort. Sikou Tingfeng was slightly startled, realizing she had been staring so intently that it bordered on rudeness—a faux pas for any martial artist.
At that moment, she saw Wang Anfeng’s hanging hand suddenly shake.
His soft, rounded qi force turned rigid.
Nearby, several rowdy youths with blue tattoos on their bare arms cried out in pain, staggering backwards, ashen-faced, each clutching their right hand and trembling uncontrollably.
Sikou Tingfeng’s keen eyes noticed blue and then black marks spreading on their palms and back of their hands, as if they had been pricked by needles, leaving her surprised.
She hadn’t expected this particular martial arts technique to shift to a fierce qi force, let alone have a yin-type hidden injury aspect. While the Taoist Sect emphasizes the cycle of yin and yang, few martial arts reach such a level of sophistication.
In the next moment, she realized these men were likely idlers and ruffians from the city, usually with little spare cash. They had taken advantage of the crowded festival to find pretty girls to harass, unwittingly setting their sights on Xue Qinshuang.
Whether to commend their astuteness or lament their blindness was a question.
A subtle lift at the corners of Sikou Tingfeng’s somewhat pale lips formed.
Everyone in the Divine Martial Mansion knew.
Although she had only known Wang Anfeng for two or three months, Sikou Tingfeng was aware that he usually had a good temper. However, if Xue Qinshuang was involved, his good nature seemed to vanish, and the subtle strength of those recent moves meant those ruffians would likely suffer for a month or two.
Her gaze shifted subtly, returning to Qinshuang. She noticed her bright hazel eyes, her smile brimming at the corner of her lips. Despite the familiar sparkle in her gaze, Sikou Tingfeng felt an unaccountable surge of irritation.
The slight hunger she’d felt while passing food stalls a moment ago had vanished, leaving her feeling stifled.
At that moment, a young man, blinded by infatuation—and quite taken with Sikou Tingfeng’s aloof demeanor—took advantage of the distraction to lunge at her, his hands reaching for her slender waist concealed beneath her clothing.
Sikou Tingfeng, able to manipulate qi, sensed the intrusion. She always preferred Taoists over Confucian scholars and would typically deflect someone with her qi. However, she let out a cold snort, lifted her hand, and flicked her wrist; her qi force was heavy as a mountain as she crushed the youth’s hand, causing a soft but distinct snap. He screamed in agony.
Then, with another cold huff, she walked on without looking back.
The commotion was significant, the young man’s screams loud, attracting the attention of those nearby. The people in front also stopped in their tracks. Liu Ling, being older and worldly-wise, took one look and understood what had transpired. He held no fondness for troublemakers and delinquents.
