Fan Wushu sat with his arms folded, striking a proud pose.
Over the past two days, he had put Duan Qifeng through special training and had even tailored a set of combos specifically for the arena, ensuring that he could perform beyond his usual limits under match conditions.
This was already the losers' bracket. There was no reason to lose again.
His mind was not on the match at all. He was replying to Taixu private messages by thought, naturally just shooting the breeze. What serious business could he possibly discuss with Zhongli Yan?
"Didn't see that Dou guy today... It makes sense for people like them to skip work, right? There are only a handful who honestly do their jobs... You're right, these vermin have no sense of responsibility at all. Positions like that ought to go to virtuous people like us. You take out Dou Zhao first, and I'll replace Jiang Wang afterward... Ah! How could I have missed him? He really didn't come. He shines and glows like a luminous pearl all day long—how could I not see him?... Though Huang Sheli is here again..."
Huh?
Fan Wushu froze mid-sentence.
Why had Huang Sheli circled around to this side of the arena again?
Then he looked sharply—and saw Zuo Guangshu, Qu Shunhua, Zhao Rucheng, Xu Xiangan... a whole crowd pouring over and taking seats wherever they could.
The veins on Fan Wushu's forehead throbbed as a bad feeling rose within him.
"Young Lord!" he called. "You are...?"
Throughout the Southern Regions, all looked to Great Chu for breath. His attitude was exceedingly respectful.
Zuo Guangshu was still rather aloof before outsiders. His response was polite, yet distant. "Watching the match."
Fan Wushu understood at once. He leaned back and unfolded his folding fan, laying it over his