Once the serving women had passed out refreshments and settled between the young lords to pour wine and attend to them, the conversation moved on to topics other than Wu Ling and his painting skills.
"Now, I have a question for our youngest Brother, Fan Chaoyang," Xiong Dahuo said, turning his attention to the elegantly dressed sword cultivator. "You're nineteen this year. Come to the Autumn Festival, it'll be your last chance to compete in the Inner City Young Expert's competition unless you manage to become a Soldier by New Year. Can we expect to see you representing your Pure Edge Sword Sect again this year or has some upstart taken your crown?"
"You think there's anyone in Pure Edge that has keener insights than mine?" Fan Chaoyang said disdainfully as he sipped his wine. "It isn't a question of whether or not I'll compete this year but whether I'll do so as a Brawler or a Soldier. The barrier between the first and second stages grows thinner every moon. I won't hold myself back just for the chance to compete with the juniors in the competition one last time," he said with a level of confidence that bordered on arrogance.
While none of the young lords gathered here would question Fan Chaoyang if he said he would represent his sect as a late-stage Brawler competing against other first-stage cultivators, to hear him claim that he would still be qualified to represent his sect as a second-stage cultivator immediately after breaking through was something else.
Even if the competition was restricted to those less than twenty years of age, the geniuses who awakened at thirteen and fourteen and became Soldiers by eighteen weren't to be taken lightly! Yet to hear Fan Chaoyang say it, he would be the greatest cultivator under twenty whether in the first or the second stage.
"Well, you're the last of us with a shot at the second stage by twenty," Liu Mingtao said with a shake of his head. "My father still hasn't entirely forgiven me for falling short but at least he's too busy with sect affairs these days to hound me about my 'disappointing appetite for cultivation.' As though it makes a difference a hundred years from now whether I broke through at twenty or if it takes me until I'm twenty-four," he said with a dismissive snort.
"You wouldn't care if your man took a few extra years to advance his cultivation would you?" Liu Mingtao asked the young woman pouring wine, squeezing her plump buttocks, and admiring the bounce of her assets when she jumped in surprise.
Several of the young lords frowned at Liu Mingtao's behavior but since Fang Lin and Fan Chaoyang seemed to tolerate it, no one said anything. Wu Ling opened his mouth to speak up on behalf of his sect sister only to be silenced by Understudy Die. Clearly, they were used to this level of harassment and it hadn't yet crossed their bottom line.
"As long as a man has achievements to boast of and the ability to care for me and our children, why would I care about when he broke through," the young woman said, directing a flattering smile at the golden-haired young lord. "I'm sure my lord has slain mighty beasts and won numerous other accolades in order to not be concerned about advancing rapidly," she added with a knowing smile.
"As if," Xiong Dahuo said with a laugh. "Zhang Buyan, Fan Chaoyang and I are the only ones who have slain anything mightier than an Iron Tusk Boar out of everyone here. The rest of these clods are too timid to spill real blood and quench their blades in the flesh of something or someone who could actually kill them."
"You-you're not suggesting that I should be out there fighting beasts, are you Brother Xiong?" Yu Jinqi said, glowering at the red-haired Brawler. "Should I bludgeon some fierce beast to death with my cauldron? Scholars don't belong on the battlefield the way you Brawlers do," he finished, his voice growing quieter as the courage bestowed by wine faded under the crimson-haired Brawler's stare. "I shouldn't be out there fighting beasts any more than Brother Fang should," he finished weakly.
"I've always thought Alchemists had tremendous potential to be lethal adversaries," Wu Ling said, glancing at the woman pressed up against him who'd been feeding him bites of sweet fruit. Die Jiang wasn't actually an alchemist but she'd been one of Aunt Hyacinth's attendants and he'd been warned several times that her skills as a Gardener extended far beyond the ornamental.
In the light half of the sect, a Gardener would be responsible for ornamental arrangements and the landscaping of the sect, and from the look of the gardens at the Drifting Silk Pavilion, Understudy Die certainly had the skills to create beautiful vistas. As a disciple of the dark half of the sect, however, she'd also tended the Poison Gardens where his Aunt Hyacinth cultivated the ingredients needed for some of the sect's most deadly toxins.
"Oh certainly," Die Jiang agreed readily, thinking of the way she'd seen Elder Hyacinth carry out her own assassinations on behalf of the sect. The sight of some of her victims was enough to give a person nightmares for weeks. "I would never risk offending an alchemist. I value my life too much for that."
"What's life without taking risks," Xiong Dahuo said boldly. "I might be too old to carve out a spot in the Inner City right now," he continued, "but mark my words, within a year or two I'll have slaughtered my way to the second stage and then you'll all be looking at the Sanguine Saber Sect's newest Outer Sect Warden!"
"A Warden? As soon as you break through?" Fang Lin said, sounding impressed. "Doesn't it take years of service and training to become a Warden?" In most sects, Wardens bridged the gap between low-level Deacons who had reached the limits of their cultivation and Elders who were in short supply. Typically, a person couldn't become a Warden until they were close to becoming third-stage cultivators but from the sounds of it, Xiong Dahuo was confident in doing so as soon as he reached the second stage!
Wu Ling's attention caught on something entirely different, however. Just a month ago, he wouldn't have considered the Sanguine Saber Sect to be any different than the Crimson Flame Saber Sect, the Golden Tide Martial Sect, or any of the other second-rank martial sects of Silver Sword City.
Now, however, he found himself sitting just a few meters away from a disciple of the sect that killed his father, crippled his mother, and imprisoned his sister! How could he be calm like this?