Feng Bo'e

Duan Yu followed Qiao Feng to the Righteous Branch and immediately recognized the two men locked in combat below: Bao Butong and Zhu Danchen.

Though he had no idea why Zhu Danchen was here, he didn't want him fighting Bao Butong—after all, his own life had been saved by A Zhu and A Bi, who were both subordinates of Murong Fu alongside Bao Butong.

Just as Duan Yu was about to call out, he noticed three young women standing off to the side: A Zhu, A Bi, and Wang Yuyan.

The moment Duan Yu's eyes met Wang Yuyan's face, he couldn't look away, staring at her with dazed, unblinking fixation.

Wang Yuyan had been watching Zhu Danchen's acupoint-striking techniques for a while and had already grasped the Judge's Brush routine inside and out. She was about to warn Bao Butong when a scorching gaze landed on her from the side.

Turning her head, she found Duan Yu staring at her like a fool.

Seeing Duan Yu, Wang Yuyan was startled. She looked toward Chen Feng inside the branch hall—two identical faces left her utterly bewildered, and the words she'd meant to shout to Bao Butong died in her throat.

Leader Jiang, who had been watching Zhu Danchen and Bao Butong fight, lit up at Qiao Feng's arrival. He hurried forward to greet him, and the Beggar Clan disciples behind him bowed in unison, shouting, "Subordinates greet the Chief."

Qiao Feng clasped his fists. "Greetings, brothers."

Zhu Danchen and Bao Butong, locked in a fierce stalemate, both eased their attacks. Zhu Danchen spotted Duan Yu behind Qiao Feng and grinned, losing all desire to continue the fight.

Bao Butong, however, saw the Beggar Clan's fresh reinforcements. Though unafraid for himself, he worried for the three young women behind him and likewise lost his fighting spirit.

Both fighters sensed the shift in the other. They feigned a move each, then sprang apart.

Free from the fight, Zhu Danchen rushed to Duan Yu's side and said loudly, "Young Master, I've found you at last."

But Duan Yu seemed not to hear, still staring blankly at Wang Yuyan.

"Young Master? Young Master? YOUNG MASTER!"

"Ah!" Jolted by the third call, Duan Yu flinched. Turning, he saw Zhu Danchen standing beside him. He gave an awkward smile and asked, "Fourth Brother Zhu, what are you doing here?"

"I came looking for you, of course! Did that Monk Pan hurt you? How did you escape?" Zhu Danchen circled Duan Yu, examining him anxiously.

"Oh, Fourth Brother Zhu, you're asking so many questions—which one should I answer first?" Duan Yu was genuinely glad to see Zhu Danchen. He took his hand and led him over to Qiao Feng.

"Let me introduce you. This is my sworn brother, Qiao Feng, also the Chief of the Beggar Clan—though I only just found that out myself."

"Zhu Danchen greets Chief Qiao. Thank you for saving my young master's life." Seeing Duan Yu with Qiao Feng, Zhu Danchen assumed Qiao Feng had rescued him from Monk Pan—after all, Qiao Feng had the strength for it.

"Wrong, wrong, Fourth Brother Zhu. The one who saved me wasn't Brother Qiao—it was those two young ladies over there, A Zhu and A Bi." Realizing the misunderstanding, Duan Yu quickly pointed at A Zhu and A Bi.

But when he looked their way, he found them staring back with strange expressions, occasionally glancing to the side.

Following their gaze, Duan Yu saw a strikingly familiar, handsome young man in white standing nearby, flanked by an old man holding a chessboard and another in blue robes.

Suddenly, Duan Yu realized something was off. That familiar young man—wasn't that himself!

"Ah, this, this, this..." Shocked, Duan Yu pointed at Chen Feng, unable to form words.

"Hahaha, Young Master, let me introduce you. This is Young Master Xiaoyao. Doesn't he look just like you?" Seeing Duan Yu's stunned face, Zhu Danchen laughed heartily as he presented Chen Feng.

"Just like? They're practically identical!" Except for Zhu Danchen, no one had ever seen Duan Yu and Chen Feng together before, and they all silently grumbled the same thought.

Seeing two identical men, Bao Butong realized he'd wrongly blamed Duan Yu earlier. But his pride wouldn't let him admit fault—especially not verbally—and besides, he had his own purpose for coming.

Mr. Bao San still wore that arrogant expression. "Hmph, so this is Chief Qiao of the Beggar Clan? I'm Bao Butong. I'm sure you've heard of me."

Qiao Feng smiled lightly and clasped his hands. "So you're Mr. Bao San. I've long heard of your reputation. An honor to meet you."

Bao Butong shook his head. "No, no! What reputation do I have? Infamy, perhaps. Everyone knows I, Bao Butong, spend my life stirring up trouble and cutting people down with my words. Heh heh heh."

"But, Chief Qiao, showing up so casually in Jiangnan—that's your mistake."

"HAHAHAHAHA!" No sooner had Bao Butong finished than a burst of laughter rang out.

Another group of Beggar Clan disciples emerged from the apricot grove, escorting four elders. The laughter came from the leftmost elder.

He chuckled. "I've long heard that Jiangnan's Bao Butong loves to spout dog farts. Truly, the reputation holds."

"I've heard that loud farts don't stink, and stinky farts don't make noise. But that dog fart just now was both loud and foul—could it be that the Beggars Sect Four Elders let it loose?" Bao Butong, never one to lose a verbal duel, shot back instantly.

"Knowing the Four Elders are here, you still dare spout nonsense?" Several Beggar Clan elders brandished their weapons, glaring at Bao Butong.

Bao Butong showed no fear. He drew his short sword and roared, "Oh? You want a fight? Mr. Bao San's greatest love in life is fighting!"

"HAHAHAHA! Your greatest love is bickering. Fighting is mine!" A voice rang out from midair.

Everyone looked up to see a man standing on a branch of an apricot tree. The branch swayed, and he rose and fell with it.

Wang Yuyan said softly, "Fourth Brother Feng, you've come too."

The man leaped from the branch and charged straight at the Beggars Sect Four Elders, attempting to take on all four at once.

The Four Elders were all renowned in the martial world and refused to gang up on one man. After a brief exchange, three of them withdrew, leaving only one elder with unusually long arms.

Feng Bo'e didn't care how many opponents there were—as long as there was a fight, one or four made no difference.

Elder Chen's weapon was peculiar: a soft sack that he wielded with clever force, like a flexible whip.

Not only that, but Elder Chen's fist technique was extraordinary. Though it was just the common Tongbei Fist, he used it with such mastery that he nearly trapped Feng Bo'e several times.

But Feng Bo'e was no pushover. A lifelong brawler, he'd been through thousands of battles, big and small. His adaptability in combat far exceeded ordinary men.

Facing such an unusual weapon, he relied on his exquisite blade work to parry and press forward, stubbornly holding off Elder Chen's assault.

This was nothing like the staged fights on television. The two exchanged over a hundred moves in no time, leaving Chen Feng both exhilarated and tense.

Seeing that a quick victory was impossible, Elder Chen feigned a flaw. As Feng Bo'e lunged in, he suddenly opened his sack wide and swept it toward him.

Feng Bo'e had no intention of being caught. He raised his hand to block—then felt a faint sting on the back of his hand, like a needle prick.

Looking down, he was horrified to see a tiny scorpion embedded in his arm.

The scorpion was smaller than usual, but its five-colored, patterned shell was terrifying—clearly venomous. He shook it off and leaped backward, but couldn't keep his footing and collapsed to the ground.

Bao Butong and the others rushed over, helping Feng Bo'e to his feet.