"Young Master Zuo?"
Long Heng narrowed his eyes slightly and stared at the brocade-robed young man below the platform, then smiled casually. "I never expected to find you in Ancient Market Town, young master. But this is a private grudge between this man and the Long Household. Surely you won't deny me even this much face?"
"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"
The brocade-robed young man's lips curled upward in an unrestrained smile. "But the rules of our South Street Temple Fair must never be broken. Otherwise, who would dare come here to fight in the arenas and find amusement? Wouldn't you agree, Eldest Young Master Long?"
Long Heng gave no answer. With a single step, he abruptly closed in on Chu Xisheng and struck a palm at his face without warning.
He could not be bothered to wrangle with the commandery deputy's son. Once he slaughtered this boy, all Young Master Zuo could do was curse him a few times. It would make no difference.
But at that instant, a slender figure with red hair and red clothes appeared before Chu Xisheng like a ghost.
One of her short swords intercepted Long Heng's right palm.
She was clearly outmatched. After receiving his palm strike, she slid back three steps, and a thin layer of ice coated her entire arm.
Some of the cold spilled backward, making Chu Xisheng shiver behind her.
Long Heng's expression, however, turned utterly cold. "Sixth Grade Lower?"
When had the commandery deputy's son recruited an expert like this?
Young Master Zuo's face darkened like iron, tinged with green. "Loose a signal arrow! Muster the men!"
He stared coldly at Long Heng. "Long Heng! People say you're arrogant, and your arrogance really does know no bounds. You may look down on me, Zuo Qingyun, but you cannot