On West Direct Gate Street in Fuzhou Prefecture, the century-old Drunken Immortal Tower, which the Huashan Sect had just taken over, was exceptionally lively today—livelier even than during the holidays!
At least!
As soon as dawn broke, the street in front of the restaurant was already packed with armed martial artists. Blades flashed as heroes from all walks of life shoved and jostled, blocking the entire street. Even now, in the afternoon, there were still just as many people, and the situation seemed to be getting worse by the minute.
Faced with such a situation, the yamen runners and constables of Fuzhou Prefecture were on the scene, but they kept well away from those lawless martial artists. Not a single one of them dared step forward to keep order!
See?
Wang, the melon seller, had only just set up her stall that afternoon when she saw the two groups in front of the restaurant nearly come to blows:
"Move! Everyone, move!"
"Get out of the way, you bastards!"
"The Qingcheng Sect is conducting business!"
A tall, skinny man with a Sichuan accent waved his sword, trying to drive the crowd apart so he could get into the restaurant.
However...
As soon as he finished speaking, a man in front of him, carrying a heavy greatsword on his back, turned around and retorted with a cold laugh:
"Oh!"
"Listen to you, throwing your weight around!"
"The Qingcheng Sect?"
"What does the Qingcheng Sect amount to? Even my Songshan Sect wouldn't dare talk like that. Can't you see we're standing here patiently in line?"
"Get lost!"
"Go to the back and queue up!"
After being scolded, the Qingcheng Sect man froze for a moment, then his face flushed red. But in the end, he still didn't dare actually start a fight. Instead,