A person sacrifices himself to become a saint in a chaotic world of martial arts.

Chapter 147 Provocation

The laughter in the private room paused for a moment.

Wang Muzhi's gaze fell on the golden knife at the man's waist—a style that only the protectors of the Golden Knife Alliance were qualified to wear.

The newcomer looked around and first clasped his hands in a fist salute to Wei Anjing: "Old Wei, it's been a long time! You look even better!"

He then clasped his hands in greeting to the Wan family steward, the Wu family accountant, the Iron Palm Gang elders, and others before turning to look at Su Bai in the main seat.

He clasped his hands in a fist salute, raising them halfway before lowering them: "Wei Huanzhen, Protector of the Golden Knife Alliance, greets Chief Constable Su."

Wang Muzhi paused, his wine glass still.

Dharma protector?

The Golden Knife Alliance has more than twenty protectors, with Wei Huan Town ranking in the middle.

In this kind of situation, why would the Golden Knife Alliance send just this one person?

They were a full half hour late.

After entering, greet everyone first, and only then pay attention to the person in charge.

They stopped bowing halfway through and didn't explain their lateness at all.

Deputy Constable Song slammed his hand on the table and stood up.

Wei Huanzhen looked over, raising an eyebrow: "What is it? What instructions does Deputy Inspector Song have?"

He pronounced the words "deputy constable" with a slight upward inflection.

Today is a welcome dinner for General Manager Su.

—

"Old Song," Su Bai waved his hand, "Sit down."

Deputy Chief Song paused for a moment, looked at Su Bai, and finally sat down.

Su Bai looked at Wei Huanzhen and smiled, "Protector Wei, you've come from afar, you must be tired. Please have a seat." He gestured for him to sit.

Wei Huanzhen was taken aback for a moment, then laughed and sat down casually in the empty seat.

Wei Anjing raised his wine glass, concealing the smile on his lips.

Steward Wan said softly, "Chief Constable Su is indeed magnanimous."

An elder from the Iron Palm Clan chimed in, "So young, yet so magnanimous; truly rare."

The lean, elderly man from the Blood Blade Gang twirled his wine glass: "Serving under Chief Constable Su in the future will surely be extremely enjoyable."

The group chatted amongst themselves, their words brimming with praise.

Wang Muzhi lowered his head, staring at the wine glass in front of him, his knuckles turning white from gripping it so tightly.

After a few rounds of drinks, it was time to exchange gifts.

Wei Anjing took out a red envelope from his sleeve and presented it with both hands with a smile: "Chief Constable Su, this is just a small token of my appreciation."

Su Bai took it without even looking at it, smiled and thanked him, then casually placed it on the table.

Wei Anjing's smile deepened.

The Wan family steward presented a pair of jade discs, the Wu family accountant presented a painting, the Xie family manager presented a box of pastries, the Iron Palm Gang presented a dagger, and the Blood Blade Gang presented a jar of wine.

After Wei Huanzhen and the others had finished seeing them off, he slowly stood up, took the brocade box from his attendant, and placed it in front of Su Bai.

The brocade box was opened, revealing a folding fan with ordinary bamboo ribs and a few strokes of orchids painted on the fan surface. The total value was less than one hundred taels.

Wei Huanzhen laughed and said, "Chief Constable, with your delicate and frail appearance, this fan suits you perfectly!"

He looked Su Bai up and down, then glanced back at Wei Anjing and the others, and winked.

Several people nearby burst into laughter.

Wei Anjing stroked his beard and laughed along.

The steward of the Wan family picked up his wine glass, took a sip, and concealed the smile on his lips.

Wei Huanzhen pushed his fan forward, clasped his hands in a fist and said, "Chief Constable Su, I have other matters to attend to, so I'll take my leave now—"

"Oh, so urgent?" Su Bai asked.

His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a knife, slicing through the laughter that filled the room.

He looked at Wei Huanzhen, his smile still gentle.

Wei Huanzhen's smile froze on his face.

"Let me check the gift first," Su Bai said.

Wei Huanzhen was taken aback.

Su Bai's gaze fell on the folding fan in his hand.

A cold glint suddenly appeared.

No one could see where that cold glint came from.

A flash of white light appeared, and Wei Huanzhen's head suddenly flew off.

Blood gushed from his neck, splattering on the table, on the dishes, and on the faces of the people next to him.

The head flipped in the air, landed on the ground, rolled twice, and stopped at Wei Anjing's feet, face up, eyes still open.

Wei Huanzhen was still standing, his hand still holding the folding fan.

Blood was still gushing from his neck, once, twice, three times, gradually slowing down.

The room was completely silent.

Wei Anjing's smile froze on his face.

His eyes slowly moved down to the head at his feet.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and his lips moved, but no sound came out.

The smile on the Wan family steward's face froze, and his eyes widened in disbelief.

Wu's accountant's chin drooped, his lips opened, and he could only make a breathy sound.

The Xie family manager was deathly pale, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

The middle-aged man from the Iron Palm Gang's pupils constricted sharply, and he instinctively clenched his fists, his large knuckles cracking, but he dared not move.

The lean old man from the Blood Blade Gang had already reached for his waist, but found nothing – he hadn't brought his knife.

His right hand froze in mid-air, unsure whether to retract it or release it.

The people from the Zhenfu Division were also stunned.

Deputy Constable Song opened his mouth wide enough to fit an egg.

Wang Muzhi's wine glass slipped from his hand, spilling wine all over the table, but he was completely unaware.

Only Su Bai.

Su Bai stood up, the chair leg making a soft thud on the floor.

He walked to Wei Huanzhen's side, his boots making a soft "plop" sound as they stepped into the pool of blood.

He reached out and took the folding fan from the still-warm hand.

Wei Huanzhen's fingers were still clenched tightly. He gently pried them open, and the knuckles broke with a soft "crack".

He examined it for a moment, then gently shook it.

The fan unfolded, bringing a cool breeze. A few drops of blood splattered onto the orchid on the fan, making it glaringly red.

Then he looked up at Wei Anjing, nodded, and calmly commented, "Hmm, it really does have a lot of artistic conception. Old Wei has a good eye."

His voice remained gentle, as if he were discussing the weather or appreciating a dish.

His eyes were crystal clear, and even carried a hint of a smile.

Wei Anjing's face turned pale.

Pale white.

He looked into Su Bai's eyes, which were clear and gentle, full of smiles, like a pool of spring water.

But he only felt a chill rush from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, from his tailbone up his spine to the back of his head and to the top of his head, making him shiver all over.

He tried to look away, but couldn't.

He tried to speak, his lips trembled a few times, and finally he managed to squeeze out a single word: "Su—"

The sound came out like sandpaper scraping against the throat, terribly dry.

Su Bai was still looking at him, still smiling.

The room was deathly silent.

No one spoke, no one moved, and no one even breathed.

Only the blood from Wei Huanzhen's neck continued to gush out, making a faint hissing sound, growing weaker and weaker until it finally dripped onto the wooden floor.

Outside Qingfeng Tower, two black-clad constables still stood ramrod straight.

In the lobby on the first floor, the Blood Blade Gang members were still talking and laughing in hushed tones, their laughter faintly drifting up.

The members of the Chamber of Commerce were still playing with the jade thumb rings, the jade pieces clinking together to produce a soft tinkling sound.

The servants of the four major families were still sizing each other up, their eyes meeting, cups clinking lightly, and laughter mingling.

Blood was still flowing in the private room on the top floor.

Su Bai shook the folding fan in his hand, the fan surface swaying gently, bringing a cool breeze.

He smiled, closed the fan, and put it back on the table.

The fan landed on the table with a soft thud.

Then he picked up his glass, looked at everyone present, and said gently, "Gentlemen, why aren't you drinking?"

His voice remained gentle, as if he were asking a perfectly ordinary question.

Nobody moved.

The banquet was deathly silent.

Wei Anjing sat at the table, his hand still holding the wine glass, but his knuckles had turned white. The wine in the glass trembled slightly, rippling out fine waves.

He was in the mid-stage of the True Qi Realm, a small realm higher than Wei Huanzhen. He didn't see anything clearly the moment Su Bai drew his sword.

He only saw a flash of light.

The light was bright, dazzling, and seemed to cleave the night in two.

Then Wei Huanzhen died.

When the head rolled to the ground, its eyes were still open, its expression frozen between the smugness and mockery of the previous moment, its lips slightly parted as if it wanted to say something.

Wei Anjing broke out in a cold sweat, his clothes clinging tightly to his back, the chill penetrating to his bones.

He recalled his previous assessment of Su Bai—a young man in his early twenties who came to Qingyuan County to gain prestige through connections, all show and no substance, good-looking but useless.

He even remembered the faint smile on his lips when he looked at Su Bai just now.

This strike shattered all his judgment.

What if it were me?

Wei Anjing asked himself this question.

When he asked the question the first time, his hand trembled, and a few drops of wine spilled onto the table, spreading out in a small patch.

If Su Bai's knife was aimed at him, could he dodge it?

The answer sent a chill down his spine.

No.

He wasn't even sure if he could see the trajectory of that slash.

The blade flashed so fast that his eyes couldn't keep up, and his body didn't have time to react at all.

"Master Wei."

Su Bai's voice suddenly rang out, gentle and calm, as if he were calling an old friend.

Wei Anjing snapped back to reality, his hand trembled, and some more wine spilled from his cup.

He looked up and saw Su Bai looking at him with a smile on her face. The smile was no different from before, and even a little gentler.

But when Wei Anjing looked at that smiling face, he felt a chill run down his spine.

"Where was Lord Wei just now? What gift did he say he was going to give me?"

Su Bai's voice remained gentle, as if he were having a casual conversation.

His self-shine fell on Wei Anjing's face.

Wei Anjing's throat went dry, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and he managed a weak smile.

His smile was stiff, and the muscles at the corners of his mouth twitched slightly: "—Just now, I, Wei, said I would give Lord Su a house."

"Oh, right." Su Bai nodded, his gaze shifting to the corpse of Wei Huanzhen on the ground.

The head rolled to the side of the table leg, and blood had already seeped into a large patch.

He looked at it for a moment, then nodded. "This is a good gift."

As he spoke, he turned to look at the others present, his smile unchanged.

His gaze slowly swept across each person's face, as if counting or memorizing them.

Anyone whose gaze was swept by his own light would unconsciously lower their eyes or turn their head away, not daring to meet his gaze.

"But the gifts you all gave me..."

He paused.

This meal was very short, so short that it only took the time of one breath.

But in this deathly silent banquet, the meal seemed to last exceptionally long.

A night breeze blew by, and the lanterns under the eaves swayed gently, casting flickering light on everyone's faces.

"I'm not entirely satisfied."

Su Bai's voice remained gentle, yet it sent a chill down the spines of everyone present.

"I'll have to think more carefully about what to give as a gift next time."

These words were spoken so casually, as if they were instructing someone on some trivial matter.

But everyone present was shrewd and experienced; they had been working in Qingyuan County for many years and had seen all sorts of things.

Where is the meaning in his words unclear?

Su Bai was telling them: I received your show of force, and I've taken note of it.

I gave you a taste of my power; now it's your turn to perform.

"I'm actually quite easy to get along with," Su Bai continued, speaking as if in casual conversation, even adjusting his cuffs. "As long as it's not excessive, I can turn a blind eye to some things. But if someone thinks I'm young and starts having other ideas..."

He smiled.

"I'm the kind of person who doesn't know what's good for me. If something really goes wrong, I won't bother with words; I'll just take action."

After he finished speaking, he picked up his wine glass and took a sip by himself.

The room remained quiet; no one dared to utter a sound.

Previously, everyone looked at Su Bai as if he were a joke, their gazes carrying a condescending scrutiny and a subtle contempt.

Looking at him now is like looking at a drawn sword—a sword that has just drunk blood, with drops of blood still dripping from its blade, and no one knows whose neck the next blow will fall on.

"By the way," Su Bai put down his wine glass, the porcelain cup lightly touching the table with a very faint sound, "I would like to ask you all to pass on a message for me."

He looked at the people present with an exceptionally gentle gaze, so gentle it was almost friendly.

"I'd like to meet some new friends. If there's an opportunity another day, I'd appreciate it if you could introduce me to some of them."

That's so polite, it's like asking someone for a favor.

But to the ears of others, it had a different meaning.

Want to make some new friends?

Is this... another dinner invitation?

Many people felt a pang of anxiety, their fingers instinctively clenching their cuffs or the hem of their clothes.

Some people swallowed hard, their Adam's apple bobbing; others broke out in a cold sweat but dared not raise their hands to wipe it away.

One person died from this meal today. If we eat together again next time, how many more lives will be lost?

But no one dared to say it aloud; they could only nod and smile awkwardly.

The smiles came in all shapes and sizes; some were stiff, some were forced, and some even carried a hint of flattery.

"Alright then." Su Bai stood up, the hem of his robe swaying gently. "That's all for today. Please enjoy your meal. I have other matters to attend to, so I'll take my leave now."

He took a few steps toward the door, his pace unhurried, as if strolling leisurely.

After taking a few steps, he suddenly stopped.

This pause made everyone present tense again.

Su Bai turned around and looked at Wang Muzhi: "By the way, Lord Wang."

Wang Muzhi immediately stood up, his movements so swift that he nearly overturned the table in front of him.

He bowed deeply, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and said in a voice far more respectful than usual, "Here."

"Clean up the heads of the people from Weihuan Town," Su Bai pointed to the corpses on the ground, his finger pointing casually, as if he were pointing to something insignificant, "and send them to the Golden Knife Alliance."

He paused, as if remembering something.

He added, "By the way, ask Jintang Jing—how come his head just fell off while he was eating?"

Wang Mu was taken aback.

Everyone at the table was taken aback.

What kind of talk is that?

The person is dead, why are you asking why their head fell off?

This is clearly a provocation, a slap in the face, a message to the Golden Knife Alliance: I killed your people, so what can you do about it?