Martial King's Retired Life

“You certainly have a lot of strength in those arms. However, you don’t need a lot of strength to kill someone if you have skill.” The lanky speaker who stepped out from behind his fallen brethren never looked Zhao Tiankui in the eyes and exhibited no signs of hostility.

“So, what? Are you going to kill me?” questioned Zhao Tiankui, face straight.

“I would never dare to even think of that.” The guy walked over to Zhao Tiankui’s side.

Zhao Tiankui abruptly widened his eyes, belted and, as everyone saw clearly, threw a short-ranged punch with his veiny arms, nearly tipping the shelter over. Yet, the guy not only survived without a scratch, but he even turned and walked away as though nothing happened.

“Hmph.” Zhao Tiankui whipped his arm after he retracted his punch, leaving a trail of blood on the ground. Further up his arm, there was a new cut several inches long.

The lanky guy shook his head and sighed. “You are strong. You have my respect.” Immediately after, he blasted the floor with a ball of blood.

It didn’t seem as though anyone recognised either of the two who qualified as first-rate fighters in the martial world.

“Even the notorious Shadow Blade is here for the entertainment?” scoffed a white-dressed twenty-six-year-old swordsman sitting in the corner.

To say a few people recognised Shadow Blade by his face was overstating it, but he still had his gaze fixated on the floor. “Birds die for food. People die for money. I do wish I wasn’t such a disappointment, Young Master.”

An aloof-looking middle-aged man performed a visual audit of the handsome swordsman and asked, “You are a Confucianism member?”

The swordsman, though surprised, smiled. “I will leave that up to you to guess.”

“Confucians value faith and righteousness. Why is a self-proclaimed orthodox sect member here? Are you after wealth or blood?”

“What makes you think you’re qualified to question me?”

The aloof man simpered. “What sort of qualifications do you require?”

Right when it appeared as though the situation would boil over, a maiden voiced, “Valley Master Yan, it would be in your best interests not to be careless. He is Daren Academy’s Thuban, Abandoned Jiqiong, Lan Jiqiong.”

Lan Jiqiong condescendingly exhaled through his nose. “Good eyes you have. Who are you, Miss?”

Lan Jiqiong never raised his voice, yet some unorthodox sect members felt as though their blood and qi were swirling inside them in an unbridled manner, while orthodox sect members felt as though they dipped into a hot spring.

The maiden responded, “Hmph, why do you need to bully a weak maiden when you are an elite, Hero Lan?” After that, the fifteen-year-old girl emerged from the crowd using a respectable level of qinggong.

“How did you recognise me?” Lan Jiqiong showed no interest in her pristine appearance, rosy cheeks and large eyes.

The girl smiled behind her hand. “You are famous in the capital. Anyone who pays a little attention would recognise you, so how would I not when I’m not stupid?”

Valley Master Yan – Yan Liren – failed to notice that he was just insulted. “So you’re Thuban Lan. Can you answer your purpose in coming here now?”

Since Yan Liren asked the same question a second time, everyone tuned in this time, some even moving to where they were situated for the fastest escape route. After all, not only was he one of Daren Academy’s strongest, but he was also a close associate of the imperial court. If he informed the imperial court of their den, then their plans were dashed, and assassinating Ming Feizhen would be impossible.

Though Lan Jiqiong knew what they were thinking, he focused his attention on those seated. “That should be my question for everyone seated here. Are you after wealth or something else?”

Zhao Tiankui answered, “I already stated my reason.”

Shadow Blade: “… Money.”

“And you?” Lan Jiqiong shifted his gaze to Yan Liren.

“He killed my son.” Yan Liren pointed to a mournful lady beside him. “Her husband was also his victim. Can there be a bigger grudge?”

Lan Jiqiong needed a moment to process the surprising answer, then bobbed his head as he went into his thoughts.

“This one’s godfather perished by his hands,” stated the young girl. “The feud will not end until he is dead.”

Once he heard the answers from those he deemed most capable, Lan Jiqiong conveyed, “Ming Feizhen harmed my teacher; I have a score to settle with him, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I have to kill him. Let us all give it our best and settle our own grudges with him without getting in each other’s way. I never knew he had so many enemies.”

The girl said, “He thinks he’s untouchable because he’s Mount Daluo’s senior disciple and has Night Fortress backing him. This one will make sure he suffers.”

One person after another started sharing how they ended up as victims of Ming Feizhen. Every word they said, every complaint they made and every curse they spat resonated with Song Ou.

“Well said!” In his emotional moment, Song Ou failed to control his strength and snapped the table in half with his hand. Everyone in the vicinity directed their attention to the direction that they heard the table break.