Wandering Swordsman |

Just then, a series of hurried and chaotic footsteps and hoofbeats suddenly broke the eerie silence from both ends of the street.

"Get out of the way! All of you, get out of the way!"

On the left, a group of servants escorted a luxurious eight-bearer sedan chair at breakneck speed. The curtain was lifted, and a middle-aged, fat man with a face full of scars jumped out, dressed in a gold-embroidered python robe. This man was none other than Qian Baiwan, the richest man in Jiangzhou.

He wore a fine mutton-fat jade pendant, a symbol of wealth, around his waist, and seven or eight gold rings on his fingers, which were dazzling in the sunlight.

He usually walks with his head held high, looking down on the common people and officials as if they didn't exist.

At this moment, however, he looked anxious, clearly having heard the news that his son, Qian Baogang, had been bullied, and had rushed over to support him.

"Which blind fool dares to touch the young master of the Qian family!" Qian Baiwan roared, his voice booming like a bell, carrying the arrogance and domineering nature unique to merchants. His gaze swept across the crowd like lightning, finally landing in the center of the arena.

Almost simultaneously, a clear gong sounded from the right-hand side of the official road. The chant of "Make way—Silence—" grew louder as it approached. A blue official sedan chair came to a steady stop, and a middle-aged man dressed in the robes of a seventh-rank official and wearing a black gauze hat strode out.

He was thin-faced with sharp eyes, and a bronze seal symbolizing power hung at his waist; he was none other than Zhao Wenyuan, the prefect of Jiangzhou. Zhao Wenyuan, who prided himself on being a man of integrity and usually upheld the highest principles of propriety and morality, now had a furrowed brow and was furious: Who dared to commit violence in broad daylight and disrupt the order of Jiangzhou?

Qian Baiwan and Zhao Wenyuan rushed to the scene almost simultaneously.

However, when they saw what was before them, the anger and arrogance on their faces froze instantly, turning into a blank and bewildered expression.

What did they see?

They saw Lei Wanjun, the number one expert in Jiangzhou and the master of the Iron Fist Sect, kneeling on the ground like a stray dog, trembling all over, not daring to even lift his head!

"Brother Lei?" Qian Baiwan was stunned for a moment, his face twitching slightly as suspicion arose in his mind. "What are you doing? Why would the dignified Iron Fist Sect Master kneel before a junior? Could it be that you've been coerced?"

Zhao Wenyuan, his brows furrowed and his official authority evident, said in a deep voice, "Sect Leader Lei, why are you so distraught? In broad daylight, where is the law? If anyone has committed a crime, I will punish them severely without exception!"

Their gazes naturally turned to the direction Lei Wanjun was facing.

There stood a young man dressed in a black robe, his figure as upright as a pine tree, his temperament profound and majestic.

Beside him stood two stunning beauties, one dressed in purple like the sunset, aloof and noble; the other dressed in white, gentle and charming.

The young man remained calm, as if all the commotion before him had nothing to do with him. He simply looked quietly at Lei Wanjun kneeling before him.

"Who is this person?" Qian Baiwan sneered inwardly. He actually managed to intimidate Lei Wanjun? I'll find out and make sure he knows how powerful the richest man in Jiangzhou is!

Zhao Wenyuan pondered to himself: This man has an extraordinary bearing, but he is ultimately just a commoner. Could he be some kind of reclusive master? Even so, under my jurisdiction, he must abide by the law!

"Brother Lei, speak up!" Qian Baiwan stepped forward, reaching out to help Lei Wanjun, his tone tinged with impatience. "Who forced you? Point it out! Although my Qian family doesn't practice martial arts, no one in Jiangzhou City dares to disrespect us!"

Upon hearing this, Lei Wanjun trembled violently, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He abruptly raised his head, his bloodshot eyes filled with despair and terror, his voice hoarse as a broken gong: "Brother Qian! Lord Zhao! Quickly...quickly kneel down! Quickly kneel down!"

"Kneel?" Qian Baiwan and Zhao Wenyuan exchanged a glance, both thinking they had misheard.

"Lei Wanjun, have you gone mad?" Zhao Wenyuan's face darkened. "I am an official appointed by the imperial court. How can I kneel before a mere commoner? Have you lost your mind?"

"Yes, Brother Lei, you're confused!" Qian Baiwan frowned as well. "Just who is this kid that he's making you so afraid?"

Looking at these two idiots who were still completely clueless, Lei Wanjun felt extremely desolate.

He opened his mouth, wanting to explain, but found his throat too dry to make a sound.

In the end, he could only point at the young man in black and squeeze out a few words with all his might: "He...he is the Sword God - Shen Mo!"

Boom!

This name struck Qian Baiwan and Zhao Wenyuan like a thunderbolt from the heavens.

In that instant, time seemed to stand still.

Qian Baiwan's plump, round face instantly lost all color, becoming paler than a dead person.

The arrogance in his eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by boundless fear.

Shen Mo? The one who defeated the Japanese Emperor with a single sword strike and was personally bestowed the title of "Duke Protector of the Nation" by the current Emperor, a position equivalent to a prince, second only to the Emperor.

The rumors he had heard in restaurants and teahouses recently flashed through his mind: In order to commend Shen Mo's achievements, the emperor not only bestowed a title upon him, but also decreed that all people should regard the Duke of Protectorate as if they were seeing the emperor!

It's over! It's over! Qian Baiwan felt his legs go weak, a chill ran from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, and he felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

He knew perfectly well what kind of person his son, Qian Baogang, was; he must have flirted with the woman next to Shen Mo…

Teasing? Qian Baiwan suddenly looked at the woman in purple. In that instant, memories flooded back like a tidal wave. ...Murong...that's the Murong family! The Murong family, one of the eight great families! That's Murong Qing! The next head of the Murong family!

Qian Baiwan felt like he was suffocating. He, the so-called "richest man in Jiangzhou," was nothing more than an ant compared to true powerful families! If the Murong family were to lift a finger, they could bankrupt his Qian family, leave his entire family destitute, or even… wipe them out!

My son actually offended the Duke of Protectorate and even flirted with the next head of the Murong family? This is driving our Qian family to ruin!

Qian Baiwan was filled with remorse and regret, wishing he could slap himself hard right now. Fear gnawed at his heart like countless ants, making him tremble and his teeth chatter.

On the other side, Zhao Wenyuan's situation was even worse.

As the prefect, he was most sensitive to the court's movements. Not long ago, an urgent document from the court had just arrived at the prefectural office, which stated in bold: Sword God Shen Mo has been conferred the title of Duke Protector of the Nation. Officials in all regions must treat the Duke Protector of the Nation as if he were the Emperor, and must show him the respect due to a subject to a ruler. Any negligence will be punished!

The contents of that urgent document were now like a death warrant, echoing wildly in Zhao Wenyuan's mind. He looked at the seemingly gentle and refined young man before him, but at this moment he felt that the other man was radiating an overwhelming killing intent.

I just yelled at him? I even said I'd punish him severely?! I'm asking for it!

Zhao Wenyuan felt as if his official hat was about to fly off. Cold sweat instantly soaked through his official robe, sticking stickily to his back, making him extremely uncomfortable.

He thought of his own insignificant official position, which was nothing but dust in front of the Duke of Huguo.

With just one word from Shen Mo, let alone removing his official hat, even if his head were chopped off, he would still be waiting with bated breath!