Breaking Off the Engagement? Let's Talk About the Douluo Version of "The Poor Youth Is Not to Be Bullied"!

The Wind Sword Sect, the sect's main hall.

Six-year-old Feng Yun stood in the center of the hall, his little face drawn taut.

But inside, his mind was practically exploding with comments.

Good grief, this scene, this setup, this atmosphere!

Seated in the center was his cheap old man, the sect master, Feng Bailong.

On the right were the Wind Sword Sect's grand elder, Feng Xiao; the second elder, Feng Hu; and the third elder, Feng Bao.

Even more absurdly, seated beside them were Meng Shu, the Dragon Duke of the Unrivaled Dragon Serpent, Chao Tianxiang, the Serpent Granny, and their nine-year-old granddaughter, Meng Yiran.

Meng Yiran was looking at him down her nose.

A nine-year-old little girl, looking at him as if he were yesterday's steamed sponge cake in the cafeteria.

Feng Yun sighed inwardly.

Six years since he transmigrated to Douluo Continent.

Now, he was finally coming into contact with characters who had appeared in the original work. The gears of fate were at last beginning to turn.

It was just that the way they were turning seemed a little off.

"Feng Yun."

Grand Elder Feng Xiao was the first to speak, a hint of satisfaction hidden in his tone.

"We called you here today because there is something we must inform you of."

Feng Yun said nothing, only looking toward his own father.

Feng Bailong sat upright in the seat of honor, his expression as calm as still water.

But no one knew a father better than his son.

With one glance, Feng Yun could tell his old man's expression was not good.

Got it.

This was a feast at Hongmen.

"Senior Dragon Duke has come to our Wind Sword Sect today for the sake of—"

"I'll say it myself!"

Meng Yiran cut the grand elder off outright.

She strode out.

The nine-year-old girl tilted her head up, aimed her nostrils at Feng Yun, raised a hand to point at him, and said each word with deliberate force:

"I! Want! To! Break! Off! The! Engagement!"

Feng Yun's pupils widened slightly.

Not because he was shocked.

But because this script felt awfully familiar.

Three days ago, at the martial soul awakening ceremony, he had awakened the "wind" martial soul.

At the time, the crystal used to test soul power had burst with dazzling light, clearly showing signs of innate full soul power, yet the final result had been only innate rank three.

Ever since then, the rumors in the sect had not stopped.

"The sect master's son has the talent of trash."

"What a pity. The Wind Sword Sect has no one to carry on its legacy."

Especially that brat Feng Lie, the grand elder's son, who went around telling everyone, "I knew he wasn't worthy of being young sect master."

Feng Yun did not care about any of that at all.

The key was the connection between his being labeled "trash" and everything currently happening!

Right now, his mind was working at high speed.

Martial soul awakening trash... the girl's side coming to break off the engagement...

Hiss.

Feng Yun sucked in a cold breath inwardly.

Wasn't this damn thing Xiao Yan's script from Battle Through the Heavens?

Could it be that, as a transmigrator in Douluo Continent, I actually got the male lead template from the studio next door?

He subconsciously touched the ring on his hand.

It was a relic his mother had left him, a storage soul tool.

His mother had passed away early, and this was the only keepsake he had of her.

The ring was perfectly ordinary, and after six years of wearing it, no old grandpa had ever popped out of it.

But now, Feng Yun's heartbeat began to quicken.

If this script really was following Xiao Yan's route, then could there really be an old grandpa like Yao Lao hidden inside this ring?

His heartbeat kept speeding up.

"Feng Yun!"

"Are you even listening to me?!"

Meng Yiran stomped her foot in anger.

She had just rattled off a whole string of things like "you're not worthy of me" and "I'm a genius while you're trash."

Yet this guy was actually zoning out?

Please, this was a broken engagement.

Could he at least show this famous scene a little respect?

Feng Yun came back to himself.

A smile suddenly appeared on his face, one that did not suit a six-year-old child.

Since the script he had gotten might be Xiao Yan's, then he had to go through the proper motions.

Perhaps this was the correct way to awaken the old grandpa in the ring.

Feng Yun cleared his throat and spoke in a tone that was neither servile nor overbearing. "If Miss Meng wishes to break the engagement, naturally, that is no problem."

"To be honest, the two of us really aren't that familiar. It's good to call this marriage off."

Meng Yiran froze.

Why did this little brat speak so smoothly?

"However—"

Feng Yun's tone shifted, and his gaze suddenly sharpened.

"You came to our door to break the engagement with such great fanfare. It's obvious you're trying to trample on my father's dignity."

"Dragon Duke and Serpent Granny are both esteemed seniors. Surely you wouldn't fail to understand even such basic etiquette, would you?"

He paused, then smiled even more brilliantly. "Or are you doing it on purpose?"

"You think our sect is easy to bully?"

The moment these words came out, the entire hall fell silent.

"Huh?!"

The little girl Meng Yiran was cowed by his imposing manner and subconsciously took half a step back.

Dragon Duke Meng Shu frowned slightly.

A trace of surprise flashed through Serpent Granny Chao Tianxiang's eyes.

Their relationship with Feng Bailong was fairly good, and back then, they had arranged the childhood betrothal because they had taken a fancy to Feng Bailong's bearing as a dragon among men.

Now that Feng Yun had awakened trash talent, it was true that they wanted to break the engagement.

But to say they had deliberately come to slap him in the face... that accusation was a little too heavy.

Since they did not have reason on their side, the two of them guiltily remained silent.

They could hardly seriously argue with a six-year-old child.

It was better to leave this to Meng Yiran, who was also a child.

"Impudent!"

Great Elder Feng Xiao slammed the table and rose, glaring furiously at Feng Yun.

"Feng Yun, how dare you show such disrespect to Senior Dragon Duke!"

"Sect Master, look at the fine son you've raised!"

"With no respect for elders, what kind of behavior is this?!"

Feng Bailong looked at his son.

His face was dark, yet his eyes gleamed.

Since when had this brat become so eloquent?

Feng Yun glanced at the Great Elder.

This bastard had lost the competition for the sect master position to his old man back then, and he held a grudge in his heart.

Now that he had caught an opportunity, he immediately started taking shots.

Didn't he see that Dragon Duke and Serpent Granny were both feeling guilty and keeping quiet?

Where did he get the right to butt in?

What an attention-seeking clown.

With emotional intelligence like that, no wonder he could not compete with his old man.

Feng Yun could not be bothered with him.

He casually took paper and brush from his storage ring and wrote several lines with a few swift strokes.

Then he bit open his thumb and pressed down a bloody handprint.

His movements were smooth and seamless, done in one breath.

He handed the paper to the dazed Meng Yiran, and declared in a clear voice, "Since Miss Meng looks down on me, a 'piece of trash' at Innate Level Three."

"Then, for my father's and my sect's dignity, as well as my own, let us make a three-year agreement here!"

"On this day three years from now, you and I will fight before everyone."

"Whoever loses will be the one who was truly cast aside!"

He paused and took a deep breath.

Imitating a certain Flame Emperor's classic line, he enunciated each word, "Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west."

"Do! Not! Bully! A! Poor! Young! Man!"

The First Elder's mouth twitched. Has this brat read too many storybooks?

The Second Elder looked utterly confused. What just happened?

The Third Elder... The Third Elder was dozing off.

"You!"

Meng Yiran's expression shifted again and again.

She could not understand it at all.

Where did a little piece of trash with Innate Level Three soul power get this courage?

Three years?

What could you possibly do in three years?

She snatched the paper away.

Likewise, she bit open her finger and pressed down her handprint.

"Three years from now, I'd like to see how you keep acting tough!"

"Just you wait!"

"Well said. Do not bully a poor young man."

Dragon Duke Meng Shu gave Feng Yun a deep look.

"Sect Master Feng has indeed taught a fine son."

"Since Yiran and your son have already set a three-year agreement, we will not interfere any further."

"Farewell."

They had been the ones in the wrong to begin with.

It would be unseemly to meddle in matters between two children.

Now that things had reached this point, there was no point staying any longer.

Dragon Duke and Serpent Granny left with the fuming Meng Yiran in a swirl of sleeves.

Only the people of the Wind Sword Sect remained inside the great hall.

Feng Bailong walked up to Feng Yun, placed his large hand on his shoulder, and asked in a low voice, "Yun'er, are you confident?"

Feng Yun fell silent for two seconds.

To tell the truth, he had no confidence at all.

But after saying all that, wouldn't backing down now be even more humiliating?

He nodded heavily. "I am!"

Feng Bailong looked deeply at him.

He said nothing and turned to leave.

But when the hand on his shoulder pulled away, it pressed a little harder than usual.

Feng Yun returned to his small courtyard.

The first thing Feng Yun did was shut the doors and windows.

He took off the ring, cupped it in both hands, and began to pray and call out.

"Come out, old grandpa in the ring!"

Nothing happened.

"Open sesame! Abra-kadabra!"

Still nothing.

"System? Fairy? Golden finger? Deep Blue, add points?"

Still nothing.

Feng Yun knelt on the bed, staring at the ring and praying for an entire incense stick's worth of time.

There was no response at all.

His heart slowly turned cold.

"Could I have guessed wrong?"

"I didn't get the Xiao Yan script, but the real trash script?"

"Transmigrator perks, golden fingers—none of that exists?"

This was the ring his mother had left behind.

It was an utterly ordinary silver band.

The ring had no unusual energy fluctuations whatsoever.

Just as he was sinking into despair, something changed.

"Whoosh—"

A wisp of wind stirred the bangs hanging over his forehead.

"Wind?"

Feng Yun abruptly looked up.

The doors and windows were tightly shut. There was no wind inside the room.

This wind... where had it come from?

Suddenly, his pupils shrank!

A green light lit up on the ring.

It was gentle as moonlight, not dazzling.

The glow gathered, gradually taking the shape of a person.

Feng Yun's brain instantly crashed.

"Holy shit! There really is an old grandpa!"

Then he saw clearly.

What the light had formed was an extremely beautiful woman.

Her black hair fell like a waterfall, down to her waist.

Her bearing was cool and aloof, like snow atop a mountain peak.

She wore a long dress patterned with clouds, her brows and eyes carrying a trace of pride and distance.

She slowly opened her eyes.

Their gazes met.

Feng Yun froze completely.

After his brain crashed, he blurted out on instinct, "You... you're not the old grandpa in the ring?"

The woman tilted her head slightly.

She looked down at herself, then back at Feng Yun.

Her delicate brows knitted faintly.

Her voice was cool and clear as a spring, yet carried a hint of confusion. "Am I... very old?"

Feng Yun: "..."

Crap.

He'd said the wrong thing.