Zheng Sihai stared at Fang Shuwen, who was bowing before him, and was momentarily lost in thought.
His hand pressed against the back of his chair, and he subconsciously started to rise. But then he slowly relaxed, a smile spreading from the corners of his mouth as he nodded repeatedly.
"Good. It’s good that you’re back."
"This disciple has been unfilial, making Master worry."
After speaking, Fang Shuwen straightened up and turned to look at his other martial brothers in the hall.
Seeing this, they all began to speak at once.
Most of them called him "Xiao Shiliu," while some called him "Sixteenth Brother."
Only one, however, was Zheng Sihai’s youngest disciple. He was just sixteen years old this year, and his name was Tang Quan.
Tang Quan looked at Fang Shuwen, his eyes filled with excitement.
It wasn’t just because Fang Shuwen had been on good terms with them back when he was at the martial hall; it was also because his reputation had long since reached Julu City.
In fact, before this, when Mo Beidou returned, he had mentioned that Xiao Shiliu was no longer the person he once was. His Martial Arts were so profound that even the Book Immortal, Murong Qingchen, had to show him some respect.
But at the time, everyone had been skeptical.
It was only because the one speaking was Mo Beidou, and this senior brother held a great deal of prestige among the disciples.
If anyone else had said it, they would have certainly scoffed.
They were close, yes, but who among them didn’t know the extent of Fang Shuwen’s abilities?
It wasn’t that they looked down on him; they were just worried about his future prospects.
So, while they were skeptical of Mo Beidou’s words, they also felt a faint flicker of anticipation.
Unfortunately, Mo Beidou had said that Fang Shuwen needed to settle some old scores and couldn’t return for the time being, so all they could do was wait quietly.
They hadn’t expected that while waiting for Fang Shuwen, they would instead hear a new legend spreading through the Jianghu.
Something about Qiuyue Nunnery, killing the great Demon Cao Jiuyin with two palm strikes, and single-handedly slaughtering hundreds of experts from Dragon Emperor Hall outside Flying Snow City.
Was this still the same Xiao Shiliu, the same Sixteenth Brother, that they knew?
And the stories only grew more and more incredible, claiming that when he visited Yuqing Pavilion, the entire sect treated him as a guest of honor.
And what kind of place was Yuqing Pavilion?
It was one of the Seven Great Sects of the Eastern Domain. Hadn’t everyone seen how Old Master Half City Zhou of the Zhou Family had become nigh unapproachable just because his daughter had entered Zhuji Pavilion, one of the Seven Sects?
And she was merely a True Disciple.
For Fang Shuwen to be able to command such respect from the entirety of Yuqing Pavilion—what kind of magnificent presence was that?
Just from hearing those legends, they all felt that the Fang Shuwen from the tales of the Jianghu was a completely different person from the one they knew.
Now, this martial brother whom they used to see all the time, who now lived only in the whispers of Jianghu people, had finally returned.
How could their hearts not pound with excitement?
Especially just now—Fang Shuwen’s voice had come from outside, yet no one in the entire hall had seen how he had appeared in their midst.
That move alone proved that Mo Beidou had not been exaggerating.
Fang Shuwen was also thrilled to see his martial brothers, but this was not the time for individual greetings.
He clasped his fists in a general salute to his martial brothers, then turned his gaze back to Song Longwu.
His brow furrowed slightly.
"Was it you who was just slandering the Martial Arts of my Four Seas Martial Arts Hall?"
Song Longwu didn’t know who this "Xiao Shiliu" was, but seeing Fang Shuwen’s striking appearance and exceptional bearing, he didn’t dare to underestimate him.
But if he backed down now, wouldn’t all his years of painstaking planning for this ’revenge’ become a joke?
He snorted.
"You’re a disciple of Zheng Sihai?"
"State your name first."
"I am Fang Shuwen."
Fang Shuwen said lightly.
Song Longwu first furrowed his brow slightly, but then his expression changed drastically.
He whipped his head up to look at Zheng Sihai and saw his expression was unchanged. Then he looked back at Fang Shuwen, a murderous glint hidden in his eyes.
In an instant, cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
He desperately wanted to ask if this Fang Shuwen was the same person as the legendary Demon Evil God.
But he didn’t dare to ask... and he certainly didn’t dare to gamble on it!
After all, in a gambling den, you bet with silver; in front of Fang Shuwen, you bet with your life.
If this Fang Shuwen truly was that Demon Evil God, he was a man who killed as easily as breathing.
His heart hammered in his chest, and finally, with a sudden wave of his hand, he commanded:
"We’re leaving!"
"Stay."
Before the people from Longwu Martial Arts Hall could move, Fang Shuwen spoke in a cold voice.
Song Longwu’s face darkened.
"What... what do you want?"
"Simple. Since you say the Martial Arts of my Four Seas Martial Arts Hall are nothing special."
"That the Four Seas Dragon Fist and the Plum Blossom Scattering Hand are merely common techniques. Fine. You can attack me one-on-one, or all at once."
"I will face all of you using only these two techniques."
"In this exchange of fists and feet, life and death will not be questioned. The victor will naturally clear their name of any slander."
Fang Shuwen stood tall as he spoke lightly.
But his words made sweat break out on Song Longwu’s forehead.
However, martial artists were hot-tempered by nature, and Fang Shuwen’s words naturally stoked discontent among the members of the Longwu Martial Arts Hall.
The younger ones lacked the composure and caution of their elders; there was no shortage of those who dared to fight and risk it all.
Immediately, someone stepped forward.
"You punk, you..."
WHOOSH!!!
A blast of wind erupted, whipping his hair about wildly.
The skin on his face distorted from the gale. He stared, dumbfounded, at the fist that was now inches from his face, having appeared out of nowhere. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead, a warmth spread through his groin, and a SPLASH of liquid spattered onto the floor.
’If that punch had actually landed, wouldn’t my head have been smashed to pieces?’
The moment that thought occurred, he forgot all about saving face and simply turned and fled.
As he ran, he let out a scream like a pig being slaughtered.
Fang Shuwen glanced at the ground with a hint of disgust, then looked up at Song Longwu.
"Well?"
What could Song Longwu possibly say?