When Yi Yang came down from the platform, his steps were as unhurried as ever.
Zhao Gang was the first to approach, grinning from ear to ear. "Old man, look at you! Two bouts without drawing your saber. Other people go up there to fight for their lives, and you go for a stroll, leading that fellow around like a dog. Back in the old Black Market, that would've been worth five taels of silver for admission."
Yi Yang brushed the grains of sand off the back of his hand and said casually, "What's wrong with a stroll? It saves energy."
Left speechless, Zhao Gang could only raise a hand in admiration.
Huang Yushu stepped out of the ranks and cupped his hands. "Your footwork was exquisite, sir. I learned a great deal."
He meant every word. Watching that evasive footwork on the platform, Huang Yushu had barely been willing to blink. He had committed most of the timing and placement of every step to memory. It would give him enough to ponder for half a month once he returned.
Sun Hao edged his way to the front, his mouth quicker than anyone else's.
"Sir, I'm telling you, those moves just now-why do I feel like you're no worse than my uncle?"
The courtyard went quiet for a beat.
Zhao Gang raised his eyebrows. The corner of Huang Yushu's mouth twitched.
The uncle Sun Hao mentioned was Deputy Patrol Chief Sun Xing, a qi-blood fourth level expert.
From anyone else, those words would have been empty flattery. From Sun Hao-this lad meant them with all his heart. He didn't have the brains to butter anyone up; whatever came out of his mouth was what he genuinely thought.
Yi Yang tucked his hands back into his sleeves and waved dismissively. "Your