With this clamor, it became all quiet in front of the palace side yard. While Qing had experienced a long period of peace—excluding the sparse skirmishes on the northern front—it had only been established a few decades ago, so the civilians more or less had some fight in them. For Ye Ling’er, having received a martial education, it was nothing out of the ordinary to carry around a small curved blade. What was out of the ordinary, however, was the fact she threw it on the ground just in front of Fan Xian.
Fan Xian raised his eyebrows as he realized he was being challenged to a duel. It was similar to the custom of noblemen from Europe in his previous life, where they threw gloves in each other’s faces. Fan Xian scratched his cheek and chuckled to himself—if throwing stuff at faces remained unchanged in Qing, then probably no one would refuse a duel.
