So it was a duel between sect experts.
The Transport Gang Director breathed a sigh of relief. A trace of barely perceptible anger flashed in his eyes, but he cupped his hands politely.
"Everyone, I'm Wu Chengquan, a Director of the Transport Gang. Three days is too long. We have many passengers and shipments that need to reach Kyoto on time.
"Could you make an exception and let us through first?"
A sect disciple aboard the fast boat snorted, turned away, and ignored him.
Wu Chengquan took a deep breath and forced down his anger.
"Director, some of the owners of these shipments are difficult to deal with. If we miss the deadline, we may have to pay a fortune..."
A Transport Gang disciple spoke in a low voice.
Wu Chengquan's eyes flickered. He suddenly smiled.
"Esteemed sect prodigies, may I ask whether the two elders who chose to duel on the Tianyuan River reported it to the nearby Iron Garment Division?
"I heard that sometime in the past year, the Iron Garment Division issued an order forbidding sect experts from sparring in public without permission."
Did I issue an order like that? Oh, Master probably did. I may be the Division Chief of the Iron Garment Division, but when it comes down to it, I'm just the public face.
Master is the one who truly runs it.
Yang Ling nodded thoughtfully.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The sect disciples on the fast boat leaped onto the deck one after another, as nimble as swallows.
A strikingly handsome young man among them looked at Wu Chengquan and smiled.
"The Iron Garment Division? An office with no legitimate standing, and it thinks it can order first-rate sects like ours around?
"You're a Transport Gang Director. How can you be so naive?
"Even the