Heaven Official's Blessing: Tian Guan Ci Fu (Novel) Vol. 2(82)
The State Preceptor cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, he’s a young trainee from the Royal Holy Temple. His name is Mu Qing.”
The queen said sweetly, “I see that child is also rather skilled in fighting, just a bit weaker than my son. Maybe about the same level as Feng Xin?”
The State Preceptor didn’t appear to agree with her sentiment. Qi Rong had been lying on the queen’s lap eating grapes, and he spat out the skins in a rush.
“Psh, psh, psh! No way, no way! Not just a bit weaker, he’s faaaar weaker! Not just anyone can compare to Cousin Crown Prince!”
Hearing this, the queen patted his head, smiling, and the rest of the nobles all laughed, their bodies swaying back and forth in mirth. They teased, “Rong-er certainly clings to his cousin! If a day passes when he doesn’t praise him, he’s miserable.”
Down below in the sea of people, the cheers and hollers were shooting through the heavens.
“Fight! Fight! Kill him!”
“Slay the demon!”
The roars of excitement were growing stronger. Qi Rong was also adding to the noise, circling both his hands around his mouth like a trumpet, shouting and laughing.
“COUSIN CROWN PRINCE, GO! YOU CAN EASILY KNOCK HIM DOWN WITH ONE HAND! SHOW HIM HOW IT’S DONE!”
Suddenly, the demon on the stage slashed forward. The Martial Warrior repelled the attack with his sword but made a noise of curiosity.
During the Heavenly Parade, the Martial Match was a performance for pleasing the gods, and at most, one should use just a seventh of their power, pulling their swords at contact. However, with that strike he received just now, the sword in his hand had almost flown from his grip. Obviously, his opponent had used all of his might in that blow.
Xie Lian raised his head slightly and called out, “Mu Qing?”
The young man playing the demon didn’t say a word, just slashed at him again. Xie Lian had no time to think as he received one attack after the other, their weapons clanging.
Well, this is more exciting than fake sparring, Xie Lian thought, and his spirit heightened, immersing himself more into the fight.
Thus, under the crashing roar of cheers, the weapons clashed and sparks flew. The more invigorating the fight was on stage, the louder the cheers below.
Suddenly, there was a deafening clang. White light flashed, and the crowd gasped, their breaths hitched. That three-meter saber was flicked out of the demon’s hand by the long slender sword of the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior and was nailed directly into a stone pillar of the towering platform. A few bystanders tried to pull it out, but even when they pulled with all their strength, the long saber didn’t move an inch. They were greatly astonished.
“What kind of saber is this? What strength you’d need to wield it!”
Upon the grand stage, the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior shook his sword, and he flicked his finger on the blade again. Another resonant ring, and from behind the golden mask there came soft chuckling.
“You fought well. But you still lost,” Xie Lian said, cheerfully and leisurely.
With his weapon lost, the demon bent one knee to the ground. He was still silent, but his fists clenched harder. Xie Lian skillfully twirled his sword and, surrounded by the cheers from all around, prepared to make his final strike and “slay” the demon.
Just then, there was screaming from above!
Shocked, Xie Lian lowered his sword and looked up, but he was only able to see a blurry shadow plunging rapidly from the city wall.
In that split second, he didn’t have time to think. He pointed his toes and pushed off the ground in a flash to leap into the air, darting upward weightlessly.
He surged and flew, his sleeves fluttering open like the wings of a butterfly, then landed gracefully, light as a feather. Firmly in his hold was a person, and only when he touched solid ground did Xie Lian sigh a breath of relief and look down.
In his arms there was a child, his head wrapped in bandages, dirty and unkempt. He was curled up in his hold and watching him dazedly.
This child was no older than seven or eight, and quite the small, gaunt creature. After falling from such a height, his little body was shaking uncontrollably in his arms like a newborn animal. However, from that mess of bandages wrapped around his head there peeked a large black eye that reflected the silhouette of a snow-white figure. He was watching him unblinkingly, as if he could no longer see anything else.
Loud gasps were heard from all around, and when Xie Lian raised his head, his heart sank. In his peripheral vision, he saw lying on the ground not far away a golden object. The golden mask that hid his face had fallen.
Xie Lian had landed in the middle of the Grand Avenue of Divine Might, and the ceremonial parade was dozens of meters behind him, the procession not having made it this far yet. The sudden commotion broke the steady march of the warriors, the flower-tossing celestial maidens looked panicked, the golden carriages stopped, a number of white stallions stomped their hooves and neighed in alarm, and the strings missed notes with their rhythm disrupted. Some kept going, and some stopped. Without being able to coordinate their march again, the entire situation was spiraling out of control. The crowd on both sides of the street still hadn’t had the chance to react, but the King of Xianle upon the towering platform stood up immediately, looking worried and grave as he watched his son.
The moment he stood, how could the rest of the nobles remain seated? Thus, they all rose to their feet in a frenzy. The State Preceptor’s bottom had only just warmed his seat, but now it was cold again. He was frantically deciding whether he needed to prostrate on all fours immediately to beg for forgiveness when Qi Rong leapt onto the railing, his sleeves rolled up, shouting in rage.