Following the sound, the gate to the royal courtyard fell silent. Although the Kingdom of Qing had enjoyed a long period of peace, and there were only small skirmishes on the northern frontier, it had only been a few decades since the founding of the kingdom, so the people were still valiant and courageous. As the daughter of a military family, it was normal for Ye Ling'er to have a small scimitar at her waist. But … to throw it in front of Fan Xian's feet was quite unusual.
Fan Xian raised his eyebrows. He knew that this was an invitation to a duel, similar to the world he had lived in. When European nobles dueled, they liked to throw their gloves at each other's faces. He scratched the right side of his face, feeling a little itchy. Amused, he thought that if the duel rule in the Kingdom of Qing was to throw the knife at the opponent's face, then every duel would be successful.
Everyone looked at Fan Xian. Ruoruo nervously tugged at Fan Xian's sleeve. Although Ye Ling'er's waist was slender and supple, she was a true seventh-level master. No foppish young master in the capital would dare to provoke her. But since she had thrown the knife and issued a challenge, as a man, Fan Xian would appear cowardly if he did not accept the challenge. He was afraid that he would not be able to raise his head in the capital.
Seeing that the two nobles were fighting fiercely, the guards at the gate of the side courtyard looked down and pretended not to hear anything. Naturally, no one would be so stupid as to tell the princess in the side courtyard, "Your best friend and the man you're about to marry are about to fight." Who would be so stupid?
...
...
"Since you claim to be a master of both the pen and the sword, I would like to see on behalf of Wan'er whether or not you have the ability to protect her." Strangely, ever since she had thrown down the knife, Ye Ling'er's entire state had undergone a miraculous change. She had calmed down, and her beautiful jade-like eyes were filled with confidence. Her small and weak body seemed to contain a vast power that she was about to unleash on Fan Xian.
Fan Xian's heart trembled. Only now did he know that this girl was a powerful person who hid her strength deeply. However, on his face, he smiled slightly and waved his hand, saying three words that no one present expected.
"I refuse."
Refuse the duel? This was a very rare thing. Refusing a woman's challenge would probably make Fan Xian unable to raise his head. No one understood why Fan Xian would make such a jaw-dropping choice.
Fan Xian explained sincerely, "Although Miss Ye does not like me, you are still Wan'er's good friend. How could I have the heart to attack you?" Without waiting for the crowd to cheer, he smiled and said, "What's more, I don't want to hit women unless it's absolutely necessary."
The carriage had arrived a long time ago, but seeing the tense situation, it had stopped outside. Wang Qinian saw that his opponent was Ye Ling'er, and could only worry helplessly. He did not dare to use his identity as an Overwatch Council member to pressure his opponent.
Having said this, Fan Xian once again took his sister's little hand and walked towards the carriage in a show of force.
A clear voice rang out furiously! Finally, Ye Ling 'er could no longer endure Fan Xian's incessant barrage of insults. She exploded. Her silhouette blurred, and she was already behind Fan Xian, her fist flying straight out! — — Fortunately, she still had some martial arts heritage, and before she moved, she had already given a warning.
Feeling the violent wind behind him, Fan Xian's right hand cleverly exerted force and led his sister to the side. Immediately after, he turned around.
And then he saw a fist heading straight for his face!
The fist was small and beautiful, with fair skin. One could even see the faint blue veins on its surface. When it was clenched into a fist, only the thumb was exposed, and it was painted with pink cardamom.
To be able to see so many details in such a short amount of time only proved two things. First, Fan Xian was a man of many emotions and desires. Second, although Ye Ling 'er's actions were violent and fast, compared to the elusive staff on the cliff in Danzhou, she was still much, much slower.
The tip of his foot moved an inch from the ground, and his whole body moved with incredible speed to the left, causing the murderous fist to completely miss, which brushed past his cheek.
There was a buzzing sound as the fist missed, but it still caused the wind to tremble, and the hair on Fan Xian's cheek floated up. At this moment, his right hand had already been raised without anyone noticing. His index finger bent slightly, and in the time it takes for a spark to fly off a flint, he flicked Ye Ling'er's pulse!
Even Gong Dian, the deputy commander of the palace guards, could not dodge this move if he was caught off guard, let alone Ye Ling'er. All he heard was a light grunt, and her tightly clenched fist had already loosened, right next to Fan Xian's cheek. But Fan Xian had no time to be happy. His eyes narrowed, and he strangely took three steps back. He stretched out his hand and clapped it three times in the air.
Pa! Pa! Pa! Three crisp sounds rang out next to him!
As soon as Ye Ling'er's fist loosened, her five fingers opened up like peach branches in spring. Each finger was like an awe-inspiring branch, aiming for his temple. Fan Xian dodged completely by relying on his reflexes. He struck out three times, blocking the five streaks of air piercing through the air.
"The Ye family's sanshou!" The onlookers cried out in alarm. The Great Grandmaster Ye Liuyun of the Kingdom of Qing was Ye Ling'er's great-uncle. No one had expected this young lady to have received Ye Liuyun's teachings.
The cries of surprise did not stop. Fan Xian's face was calm as he rushed forward, and his fist landed squarely on Ye Ling'er's palm!
There was a muffled sound, and whether Ye Ling'er's fingers were peach branches or something else, they were all broken. The powerful zhenqi in his palm had bluntly broken his opponent's sanshou! Ye Ling'er floated back half a foot, clutching her wrist in pain. She looked at Fan Xian in shock. She had never imagined that the zhenqi in Fan Xian's body would be so strange. After her palm had touched it, it had invaded her meridians. The pain made her mind scatter, and she immediately lost the will to sanshou.
"You are no match for me." Fan Xian was still smiling, using words to provoke her.
Ye Ling'er gritted her teeth and charged forward again. This time she was even more ferocious than before. Her five fingers formed a knife, and she chopped down horizontally. The palm knife cut through the air with a whistling sound. She was a woman, and her innate zhenqi was not as abundant as that of an adult man. So when Ye Liuyun had first taught her sanshou, he had put some thought into it. When faced with an expert whose zhenqi was stronger than hers, she would use her fingers as a palm, turning the will of the sanshou's withered branches into the power to chop wood.
Fan Xian felt a chill in his heart, but his body did not sway under the wind of the palm strikes. His feet were hurried, and he relied on the escaping skills he had learned on the cliffs in Danzhou to dodge each of Ye Ling 'er's vertical palms with great skill. Perhaps it could be said that it was extremely dangerous.
The wind from Ye Ling'er's palms grew fiercer and fiercer, and the spectators felt as if there was a cold wind blowing in all directions.
It was as if there were countless knives dancing around Fan Xian, and he vaguely sensed danger. He grunted, and the Tyrannical zhenqi filled his body. He stomped heavily on the ground, and forcibly stopped himself from retreating. He exerted strength in his waist and abdomen, and his whole body felt as if someone had punched him from behind. He suddenly shot forward. From retreat to advance, there was no sign of stopping.
The wind from the palm strike disappeared, and so did Fan Xian.
…
…
The next moment, the spectators' mouths dropped open.
Fan Xian had disappeared from Ye Ling'er's bosom. His two hands were like iron pincers around her armpits, and he lifted her terrifying palms and placed them on his shoulders. To be precise, before Ye Ling'er's two palms struck down, he had used a technique similar to holding her in his arms to grab her vitals.
Fan Xian's trick seemed shameless, but in reality, he was trying to find the only way to get close to her in the midst of the wind from the palm strikes. Furthermore, it was only a very small space in the blink of an eye. His speed and eyesight had already reached a terrifying level — of course, this was all thanks to Wu Zhu's teachings.
Ye Ling'er suddenly realized that Fan Xian was falling toward her like a ghost, and then he was hugging her. She frowned. She knew that for him to be able to get close to her body, he had to have some kind of eyesight technique. She was shocked, but not panicked. Her palms stopped moving, and her whole body rose into the air.
Without any warning, she kicked toward Fan Xian's shin. If this kick landed, Fan Xian would probably fall on top of her in pain. However, at this moment, she couldn't care too much.
Just then, Fan Xian let go of her hands, letting her unfinished palm strike fall freely.
The structure of the human body was strange. If your palms were chopping down, it would be very difficult for your legs to kick up. Fan Xian needed a moment of discomfort from his opponent. Taking advantage of this brief moment, he had already rushed forward with his fist.
This was Fan Xian's third punch in the capital, after the murder on Niulan Street. Each of his punches had broken a person's nose, and today was no exception.
There was a soft sound, and a beautiful flower of blood floated in the air, giving off a romantic feeling.
…
…
Ye Ling'er covered her nose and squatted down. There was blood between her fingers. After a moment, she began to cry out in pain. Fan Xian was speechless. If you want to fight, I'll fight with you. How can you cry when you lose?
The servants of the Ye manor had long since surrounded her, but they were well-behaved and did not swarm her. It seemed that it was common for Miss Ye to fight someone, but there were still many people who stared at Fan Xian. Fan Xian confidently brushed his robes, without any misgivings. But the royal guards who were watching from a distance lowered their voices and sighed. "Miss Ye's family is well-educated, but I didn't expect her to be hit by Fan Xian's black fist."
Seeing Miss Ye squatting on the ground and crying, Fan Xian remembered that she was only a fifteen-year-old girl. But he didn't feel any guilt. Not hitting women didn't mean he was willing to be hit. When his mother had first entered the capital, she had beaten this girl's father, the current commander of the capital garrison, Ye Zhong, into a pig's head. His own Uncle Wu Zhu had once fought with Ye Liuyun under the palace walls, forcing the grandmaster of the Kingdom of Qing to go into seclusion for several months, forsaking his sword and taking up sanshou.
Him hitting Ye Ling'er could be considered a continuation of this glorious tradition.
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