Zhang Chen watched the exquisitely carved child galloping wildly on horseback in the distance, disbelief flashing in his eyes. How many years had the northern lands been developed? How many years had Zhang Xiang controlled them? How could something like this have happened already?
Seeing the peddler knocked flying and the passerby lying in a pool of blood, Zhang Chen felt a surge of bewilderment.
"Was it you, you lowly commoner, who spoke ill of this Young Master?" While Zhang Chen was lost in thought, trouble had already come knocking. The jade-like little child rode over with a horsewhip in hand, looking down at Zhang Chen from on high.
"He could hear that from so far away?" Zhang Chen was startled, then understood. After all, he was Zhang Xiang's child; inheriting some of Zhang Xiang's gifts was only natural. Though he looked only fourteen or fifteen, he already possessed martial cultivation. With sharper ears, brighter eyes, and heightened six senses, it was only to be expected.
The youth was dressed in splendid brocade, his eyes brimming with sharpness. When he saw Zhang Chen in coarse hemp clothing, a sneer curled his lips. The next moment, he lashed his horsewhip down at Zhang Chen's head. "Damned lowly commoner, you dare speak ill of this Young Master? Today, I'll make you regret it."
The horsewhip tore through the air with a fierce howl, crashing down toward Zhang Chen's face and head. Yet before it could land, a whistling sound came from afar. An arrow shot over from the distance, knocking the whip away and pinning it to a flagpole nearby.
"Zhang Guan, you lowborn son of a concubine, you dare meddle in my affairs?" The porcelain-doll child on horseback paid Zhang Chen no further heed and looked into the distance. On a