Full of confusion, Xiao Yan looked around and only then noticed that the clansmen who had been watching had long since scattered like birds and beasts. Not a single one remained, leaving the Martial Arts Arena empty enough to gallop a horse through.
Even Xiao Ning, whom he had just sent flying with a punch, had been hastily carried off like a dead dog by two clansmen who had doubled back.
A cold breeze swept past, and Xiao Yan shivered despite himself. His pride and heroic spirit vanished without a trace, replaced by an indescribable embarrassment and confusion that chilled him from head to toe.
"What on earth happened? I clearly won, and I won with such flair, such overwhelming might. Why did they... run?"
Seeing Xiao Yan at such a bewildered loss, the worry on Xun'er's face deepened. She hesitated, then spoke cautiously, trying to explain the root of it all.
"Brother Xiao Yan, that... that move you just made, and that shout... they really, really seemed like something Xiao Yi would do."
Xiao Yan's face visibly shifted from confusion to stiffness, then from stiffness to an ashen fury. The image of his own "heroic" performance flashed before his eyes, turning into a madman bouncing up and down and making strange cries.
Just as a white, ethereal substance began drifting out of Xiao Yan's body, his soul ready to flee under the weight of his utter humiliation, an old, teasing voice sounded softly in his mind.
"Ahem... lad, I know you're in what they call puberty. It's the age when you like showing off and attracting attention, especially in front of girls. But what you just did really was... a little too shocking for this world."
This "comfort" was like pouring oil onto a fire, turning Xiao Yan's face