Lu Chen looked puzzled. "If so, why did Governor Yang still betroth his daughter to the Flame King?"
"That, I do not know."
Shen Lang shook his head, his tone carrying the indifference of one who had seen through the ways of the world. "That is simply how things are in officialdom. There are no eternal enemies, only eternal interests. Those great figures never act on impulse; in their eyes, there is only weighing and exchange. The only ones who settle grudges to their heart's content regardless of the consequences have always been people of the martial world."
As the two spoke, a burst of urgent hoofbeats suddenly came from the official road in the distance.
A young swordsman came galloping over on horseback. He reined in before the tea stall, dismounted, and walked steadily toward Lu Chen's table.
The newcomer first swept his gaze over Shen Lang, then looked at Lu Chen and cupped his hands. "Are you Lu Chen?"
Lu Chen looked over at him.
The man was not tall, around seven chi, with a lean build. His cheeks were slightly hollow, making his cheekbones stand out. He wore a dull gray old cloth robe beneath a half-new, half-worn black front-opening jacket, like a length of withered bamboo.
Without waiting for Lu Chen's answer, he continued, "I am a retainer of the Governor's Mansion, known as Du Feng of the Heartbreak Sword, an Eight Seals martial artist. I received word that you had captured Shen Lang."
As he spoke, he kept staring at Shen Lang, greed flashing in his eyes.
Lu Chen frowned. "Where did you get your information?"
"Heh." Du Feng curled his lips in a faint, arrogant smile. "I have been making my way in the world for years. I may have nothing else, but I