"If winning makes it good, who gives a damn about martial honor!"
"You!"
Meng Taiqi slashed fiercely at Jiang Chen, his blade whipping up a ferocious wind. Jiang Chen dodged repeatedly, falling briefly onto the defensive.
Jiang Shuyue: [Fuck, I need to find Second Brother a weapon too!]
Huahua: [Why panic? The Mongol Kingdom's saber techniques may be fierce, but your second brother isn't an idiot. He can handle this.]
The moment Huahua finished speaking, Jiang Chen pivoted deftly and slammed his palm into Meng Taiqi's right shoulder, sending him flying several yards.
Jiang Shuyue: [Well done, Second Brother!]
Jiang Chen felt a little pleased with himself. Fortunately, he had spent plenty of time with General Zhao Qing and knew the Mongols' moves and routines, which made landing that blow so easy.
Huahua: [What a pity about that hit just now. It would've been better to strike his left shoulder or inner thigh. He used to bully men and tyrannize women, and a slave drove iron pincers through his left shoulder. A concubine bit a chunk of flesh off his inner thigh too. Neither wound has fully healed. Hitting those spots would give you the biggest payoff!]
Jiang Chen: Got it!
Jiang Chen concentrated his attacks on Meng Taiqi's left shoulder, landing blow after blow. Meng Taiqi felt as though his shoulder were being torn apart, and he bared his teeth in pain as he drew a curved saber.
"You brought so many weapons to a banquet. What are you planning?" Jiang Shuyue asked. "Believe me, I'll complain to your father!"
"We Mongols carry a curved saber from birth. This saber is part of my body. It won't matter who you complain to!"
Huahua: [*Oh, look at this walking human-shaped pig getting cocky! Second Brother, beat him up! Kick him