The crowd bustled, parting to reveal a man clad in ornate azure robes. His attire screamed wealth and status, adorned with intricate designs that shimmered under the sunlight. He was strikingly handsome, with long black hair flowing past his shoulders, sharp brows like blades, and an aura so potent it was impossible to ignore. It was as if his very presence demanded attention, proclaiming: "I am the center of the world."
"That's… that's Wu Xiaohui, the young master of the Wu Clan!" someone whispered in awe.
"Isn't he an inner disciple of the Azure Dragon Sky Sect?" another murmured.
"And his master's an elder of the sect. The man practically exudes power and influence."
"No wonder he looks so perfect," a middle-aged woman chimed in, her eyes practically shining. "That body… like a lion's. You can't even compare him to that twig of a servant." The remark drew laughter from the crowd, their amusement fueling Wu Xiaohui's smug grin.
Wen Ran, however, paid no mind to the growing spectacle. His focus remained sharp and unwavering. With a slight bow to the old man, he carefully collected his purchase, transferring everything into another pouch he had taken from the female cultivator. Without sparing a glance at the crowd, he turned and walked away, his steps calm and deliberate as he headed in the opposite direction.
The crowd fell silent for a moment, their jaws nearly hitting the ground. Wu Xiaohui's expression darkened, his smug grin replaced by an ugly scowl. To him, it was as though someone had spat in his face. A nobody—a servant—had dared to ignore him?
"Are you deaf?!" Wu Xiaohui roared, his voice laced with fury. When Wen Ran didn't respond, the young master leaped forward, his powerful body closing the distance in an instant. He landed gracefully, blocking Wen Ran's path.
Wen Ran finally looked up, his face devoid of emotion. The sight only further enraged Wu Xiaohui, whose pride had already taken a severe blow. Without a word, he reached out, attempting to snatch the pouch from Wen Ran's hand.
But Wen Ran's reflexes were quicker. His arm shifted effortlessly, dodging the grab.
"What is this? Robbing someone in broad daylight?" Wen Ran asked, his voice loud enough for the crowd to hear.
"So what if I am? What can a piece of garbage like you do about it?" Wu Xiaohui sneered. "You're nothing but a lowly servant. If I say you stole it, who here would dare contradict me? In this city, my word is law."
"Is that so?" Wen Ran's voice remained steady, his gaze unwavering.
"You dare talk back?" Wu Xiaohui's hand clenched into a fist, his stance shifting as he prepared to strike.
But before he could move, Wen Ran's voice cut through the air like a blade. "Even dogs know not to bark at Fang Jinyao. And you dare try to steal from her servant?" He scoffed, his words dripping with disdain. "Are you so blind you've lost all reason? Not even bothering to ask who I serve before acting? Is your brain made of wood? Or are you simply this stupid?"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Wu Xiaohui froze, his cocky expression faltering as realization dawned. The mention of Fang Jinyao's name had struck like a lightning bolt, sending a chill down his spine. For the first time, the young master of the Wu Clan was rendered speechless.
But then, Wu Xiaohui's expression twisted into a wild, disgusting grin, his eyes gleaming like a snake ready to strike. "That's a very bold claim. As far as I know, Fang Jinyao has never taken a personal servant. Are you claiming to be one? Hahaha!" He laughed uproariously, pointing a mocking finger at Wen Ran.
"Look at this fool!" he shouted, his voice dripping with ridicule. The surrounding crowd erupted into chatter, scoffing at Wen Ran.
"How stupid can he be?" someone whispered.
"If only he'd handed over what Wu Xiaohui wanted, he might've been rewarded handsomely," another murmured, their envy palpable.
Many in the crowd wore expressions that screamed they would gladly lick Wu Xiaohui's boots for the chance to stand in Wen Ran's position.
POW!
The sharp sound of a slap echoed through the square, silencing the onlookers. Wen Ran's palm had struck Wu Xiaohui's face with precision, leaving a vivid red imprint on his left cheek. Despite his cultivation at the early Spirit Flow stage, Wu Xiaohui hadn't sensed the attack until it landed. While the slap caused no real harm, the humiliation burned far deeper.
Wu Xiaohui, who had never been struck even by his own parents, felt his blood boil. His hand instinctively reached for his sword, drawing it in one swift motion. His aura flared dangerously as he snarled, "You filthy servant! I'll skin you alive!"
His blade shot forward with deadly intent, inches from its target. But before he could strike, an angry shout froze him in place.
"Wu Xiaohui, you dare?"
Fang Jinyao's voice rang out, clear and sharp, as she pushed through the crowd to stand between the two men. Her golden eyes blazed with fury as she glared at Wu Xiaohui. Her beauty, now coupled with her rage, made everyone around her hold their breath.
Wu Xiaohui faltered, his heart sinking as he registered the expression on her face. Her hatred wasn't for the servant—it was for him. The realization twisted his insides, and the sight of her standing so protectively before Wen Ran made his desire to kill the servant burn even hotter.
"Miss Fang Jinyao… I—"
SMACK!
Her palm struck his other cheek with unrestrained force. Wu Xiaohui stumbled slightly, stunned by the blow. The very woman he adored had just humiliated him in front of the entire city.
The crowd was deathly silent. All eyes were on Wen Ran, their minds racing with questions. Who is this man, and why is the mistress so fiercely protective of him?
"Get out," Fang Jinyao commanded coldly. "You're no longer welcome in this city. From now on, you are forbidden to set foot here."
Wu Xiaohui's heart shattered at her words, his pride crumbling into dust. Hatred swelled in its place. Slowly, he sheathed his sword, his face an unreadable mask.
"This means war," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "Hundreds of years of friendship between our clans, destroyed by you, Fang Jinyao. I hope you're satisfied."
He turned to Wen Ran, his gaze cold and venomous. "And you… Tell me your name, so I'll know what to carve on your gravestone when I catch you without your protector."
Wen Ran's lips curled into a smirk. "Your grandfather," he said nonchalantly.
Fang Jinyao chuckled softly, quickly hiding her amusement behind her hand.
"You!" Wu Xiaohui sputtered, his composure slipping.
"What you?" Wen Ran retorted, his tone indifferent. "If you want to bark, go back to your master and do it there, like the obedient little dog you are."
Without waiting for a response, Wen Ran grabbed Fang Jinyao's hand and pulled her away, leaving the crowd stunned and speechless.
Wu Xiaohui stood frozen, his chest heaving with suppressed rage. His hands clenched into fists as he muttered under his breath, "Just you wait, you lowly slave. I'll have your head sooner or later…"