Many of these Beggar Gang disciples had been driven out of the Fragrant Kingdom. They had always made a comfortable, easy living there, and there was a reason the gang had established its headquarters in that kingdom: from the court to the common people, everyone had been remarkably tolerant of beggars, rather than discriminating against them as other countries did. Yet this selection of a prince consort had not only saddled Young Chief Shangguan Yunchong with the charge of abducting the king, but also implicated the entire Beggar Gang, turning them into rats crossing the street, with everyone crying out to beat them.
With both the gang's interests and their own livelihoods under threat, the disciples' shared hatred flared at once. Amid their cries to eliminate Hu Xiaotian and restore the Beggar Gang's prestige came no shortage of vicious curses. These beggars were no less skilled at abuse than shrews in the marketplace. They exhausted every venomous expression they knew, dragging all eighteen generations of Hu Xiaotian's ancestors into their curses. Hu Xiaotian heard every word clearly, yet remained unruffled. Long Xiyue, on the other hand, could hardly bear to listen. Her heart ached for him, and while no one around them was looking, she quietly took his hand. Hu Xiaotian gave her a faint smile. If a man lacked even this capacity to endure humiliation and shoulder a burden, how could he accomplish anything great?
Long Xiyue would rather suffer herself than let Hu Xiaotian endure the slightest injustice. She valued his honor more than her own life, and the hand holding his was cold and trembling with anger. Touched, Hu Xiaotian told her through Secret Voice Transmission, "Just think of them all as farting!"
Long Xiyue nodded.
On the terrace, Zhao Shenxiong continued, "Now, let us invite the