Day and night traded places once more along their track.

The ancient city sank and rose again between fiery red and ashen gray.

At the edges of Jiangning, order had grown ever more chaotic. Clashes and slaughter of all scales occasionally broke out, and only the forces under the Fairness King’s “Dragon Sage” Fu Pingbo and “Military Sage” Lin Jiaojiu still tried to maintain order and drive off the brawlers — though even these enforcement squads sometimes ran into gangs willing to challenge them.

Within the city’s inner core, a measure of peace still held. The martial arts tournament had entered its semifinals, and the victors still held banquets from time to time at the Golden Tower. For the wandering swordsmen who’d come to take part in this grand event, a bit of chaos outside hardly mattered — if anything, the worse the chaos, the more it drew the eyes of the world. To men of the martial world, simply being able to attend such a gathering was glory enough; as for how to protect themselves amid all this — the real war hadn’t even started yet, so what did a little robbery or street brawling matter?

Everyone said as much.

Of course, when it came to the actual progress of the Fairness Party’s five-faction conference in Jiangning, most people had no real idea what was happening. The five kings had clashed with one another, the conference had descended into chaos, and so conditions in the city kept worsening — this was the explanation most people found easiest to accept.

Even among the various outside factions who had come hoping to place bets on an alliance, most treated the friction sparked by the study society affair as just an ordinary political power struggle. When there’s a struggle on stage, there’s fighting below it; once terms are settled, all the fighting factions will naturally stand down. After all, the Fairness Party had always developed smoothly amid apparent harmony, and this Jiangning conference had built up so much momentum — surely it wouldn’t really fall apart just because one side got stubborn?

People threw themselves into the slaughter, some bewildered, some fervent…

Of course, on the twentieth of the ninth month, word that the Fairness King was about to show his hand had already spread through the city and simmered for a full day. Everyone more or less understood that things were about to enter a new phase.

After the tournament ended that day, both the celebrations within the city’s inner core and the clashes and slaughter at its edges grew ever more intense — all manner of clamor like some wild carnival, quieting only briefly near dawn. Those settling old scores made their moves amid this “final” chaos, and mid-level factions under several of the kings also tried to flex their strength before the Fairness King showed his hand, hoping to gain more leverage in the coming negotiations.

People came and went; screams and groans rose up and gradually faded into the din; blood flowed and blood dried… Beneath the arched bridge before the ruins of Wuhu Inn, those hiding there bore witness to scene after scene of this farce — shadowy figures appearing and disappearing, sometimes falling within view, sometimes tumbling off the stone bridge, their bodies drifting away with the current…

When the sun rose, the city seemed to fall quiet for a while. After days of chaos, the road above the riverbank was littered with garbage, and among the burned ruins by the embankment, displaced refugees had put up makeshift shelters, living there under crude conditions for the time being. Further along past the ruins, around the courtyards that still stood intact, walls and barricades had already been raised, with people now patrolling atop them at all hours.

The sound of chaos drew closer from a distance.

“Stop right there!”

“Don’t let them run…”

“Kill them…”

A mess of noise.

Just as the morning fog was clearing, three figures came running down the road first — carrying bundles, bearing wounds. Seven or eight men of the martial world chased behind them, each armed with blades and spears, two of them flying the banner of “King Yanluo’s” “Avici Primal Butcher” faction on their backs, shouting loudly like common bandits.

Behind the houses along the road, someone peeked out from behind a fence, taking in this chaotic yet all-too-familiar scene. In the shanties amid the ruins of Wuhu Inn, a few men holding blades and spears, seeing the commotion coming, stood close together at the edge of the ruins, watching nervously, shielding the weaker family members huddled in the shelters behind them.

“Help! Someone help…”

The three being chased bore wounds of varying severity — one of them was bleeding heavily, leaving a trail of blood behind. As they ran, they cried out for help, their voices choked with sobs. But seeing the “Avici Primal Butcher” banner behind them, no one among the nearby houses dared step forward at a time like this; they merely kept watch to make sure the trouble didn’t turn their way. As for the pursuers, they ran and shouted, glancing around as they went, occasionally flashing warning looks, even barking out, “What are you looking at!”

“Avici Primal Butcher’s business—”

“Rounding up study society traitors—”

By the bridge along the riverbank, the little bald monk, perched at the roadside, watched the same scene unfold. The three with bundles ran past, and their pursuers followed, shouting all the way. He turned back — a fire was burning by the riverside, giving off a whiff of medicine.

The little monk said to his elder brother Long Aotian, who sat by the fire, “The Avici Primal Butcher’s killing people again.”

Under the bridge, the two figures lying there both seemed to be at the edge of death. The woman, Yueniang, had convulsed badly the night before, then fallen unconscious and hadn’t moved since. Xue Jin lay curled up beside her — it wasn’t clear whether he’d slept at all; his condition was only slightly better than hers. With little food or medicine, and worn down by long exhaustion, a person’s consciousness naturally grew hazy — Ning Ji couldn’t even tell from his breathing whether he was truly conscious. Ning Ji sat before the medicine pot, seeming equally lost in a daze.

“Amitabha.” The little monk murmured softly. “This humble monk now understands why Master sent me here… this too is the nature of all living beings.”

He had grown up in Jin Province, where famine and war had also raged, where people had even resorted to eating each other — yet it hadn’t been as savage and chaotic as what Jiangning showed.

When he’d first arrived here, he’d even felt there was hope — everyone wanted a better future. But the more that was true, the fiercer people fought each other, and more often than not, it all seemed increasingly senseless.

“I’ve started to hate it here.”

After a while, the elder brother “Long Aotian” by the bridge spoke with disgust, then added, “…They’re back again.”

His second remark referred to something else. No sooner had he spoken than two men came down from the embankment, craning their necks to peer toward the bridge — two of the earlier pursuers, one with a banner stuck in his back. They looked this way, then turned to glance at the small camp on the other side of the road amid the ruins, confirming the two groups weren’t together.

“Hey, there are two little brats here…”

“They’ve actually got medicine…”

In a chaotic age, medicine was a precious thing.

The two men approached, weapons in hand, and seeing the two motionless adults under the bridge lying still, they’d already worked things out in their minds. It looked like a family — both adults sick, perhaps having traded their last possessions for medicine.

“Hey, where are your mom and dad…”

The one with the banner on his back spoke up. The older boy sat cross-legged by the medicine pot, chin propped in hand, still not moving. The little bald monk, back turned to the two men, sighed. “Amitabha…” He reached down and picked up the staff lying on the ground.

“…Are they sick or something…”

As the two men spoke, they kept advancing. The little monk’s long staff shot backward in a flash, striking the belly of the man walking in front with a simple, clean blow, then withdrew and darted upward like lightning, striking the throat of the one behind him, the one with the banner.

“Ohh…”

“Uhh…”

Both strikes were clean and swift, almost too fast to see any gap between them — the little monk hadn’t even bothered to look carefully at his opponents. One man clutched his belly and curled up on the ground; the other clutched his throat and fell backward, writhing on the ground, neither able to make much sound.

“Amitabha. This humble monk finds it rather tiresome here too. But perhaps this is what cultivation in the mortal world is like…”

He set the staff aside and sat back down, bored.

The two figures rolled about on the mudflats behind them for a while, gradually curling up and rising, one groaning low in pain, another coughing with difficulty. At this point several other pursuers came back — some standing on the embankment road, others climbing down, staring at the scene beneath the bridge with uncertain alarm.

“Hey…”

“Hey, hey…”

“What, what… what happened…”

“We serve King Yanluo’s Avici Primal Butcher — who, who did this…”

The two men on the ground were helped up by their companions. The banner-bearer, struck in the throat, pointed a trembling hand toward under the bridge in fear; the other, now able to speak, said, “This one’s tough… be, be careful…”

The boy by the medicine pot lowered the hand propping his chin.

“This is my hometown. The place my mother loved most… and they came and shat all over it in my heart.”

Ning Ji finished speaking, then turned his gaze toward them and stood, walking toward them with a cold, indifferent look on his face. He wasn’t tall, and carried no visible weapon, yet his gait was far too composed for an ordinary person.

The men on and around the embankment startled, glancing at one another, some warily scanning their surroundings. Then another banner-bearer on the embankment road suddenly composed his expression, looked back the way they’d come, and waved his hand.

“Let’s go. We’re, we’re just rounding up traitors…” he said. “We, we won’t disturb the people…”

The others hurriedly helped the two wounded men climb back up the embankment.

The boy who’d walked over blinked, a little surprised, but then simply watched with the same indifference as they climbed up to the street and scattered away one by one.

Having stayed in this area for several days now, they’d run into similar situations more than once; the two boys had already beaten quite a few people, and scared off a few others as well. The immediate trouble had passed for now, but their mood was hardly good. Ning Ji walked back under the bridge and gazed, downcast, at the feebly breathing Yueniang. The little monk sat cross-legged, head down, counting his own toes.

“I heard that bad fellow they call Heaven’s Killer got into some trouble, so King Yanluo’s people are all furious, and there’s going to be more fighting today…”

“They fight whether something happens or not,” said Ning Ji.

No sooner had he finished speaking than Yueniang’s body on the ground gave a faint stir. Her hand twitched, then her body began to convulse, shaking several times, a rasping sound escaping her throat. Her eyes opened, showing a weak and pained expression.

Ning Ji crouched down and quickly checked on her, though in truth, the medical knowledge he’d learned had mostly been battlefield first aid — he’d seen plenty of severely wounded people on the brink of death, but had little experience with someone like Yueniang, worn down by chronic illness until she was nearly spent. All he could do now was force her life to hang on a little longer.

Hearing the commotion, Xue Jin, curled up on the ground, also woke up. He scrambled over in a panic, trying to help.

There was a flurry of activity under the bridge; after a while, Ning Ji drew a mouthful of phlegm from Yueniang’s throat, pulling her back from the brink of death. As Xue Jin held her sitting up, the gaunt woman opened her eyes and gazed at him — wide eyes, perhaps because she had returned once more from the edge of death, a faint flush appearing on her face, her breathing seeming a little less pained.

She stared wide-eyed at Xue Jin, her gaze innocent as a baby’s. After a moment, she shook her head slightly against his chest, then opened her eyes again, this time slowly gazing at the scene outside the bridge. After these days of chaos, looking out from under the bridge, there were first a few withered weeds and the black river water clogged with debris; above the embankment, the black mass of the city pressed heavily down on the land, a single column of smoke rising — it looked like a pile of burning garbage.

Xue Jin wept, and after a while tried to kowtow again, but Ning Ji stopped him. He said, “I’m going to go find medicine.”

The little bald monk saw him off from beneath the bridge.

“I’ll go look for Shit Baby,” he told the little monk. “See how his family’s doing.”

“Aren’t you going to find medicine?”

“…There’s no medicine left.”

Days of chaos in the city had long since exhausted the medicine stocks at nearby clinics, and even a few physicians had been killed in the turmoil. If they wanted to seize medicine now, they’d have to go to a military camp. More importantly, Ning Ji no longer knew what medicine would even help anymore.

He left the little monk a few slices of aged ginseng root.

“…Amitabha.” The little monk fell silent for a moment, then said quietly, “I heard they’re holding their big conference today.”

“…A memorial service counts as a conference too.”

Ning Ji frowned, his answer entirely beside the point.

…

“…Brother, the information you had me look into earlier has now been partly confirmed… As for that new army under Shen Ling’s command, it now looks very likely they’re at Jingjiang… It seems the Fairness King has been scheming carefully, with plans laid long ago…”

The sun had risen quite high by now. In the great mansion in Jiangning where the conference was to be held, crowds were already gathering. When the deputy of the “Resentment Society” and Meng Zhutao slipped into a hidden corner, he gave a brief, hushed report on a few matters, then handed over a slip of paper with the information written on it for confirmation.

Meng Zhutao tucked the note into his sleeve.

Turning back, he saw that the courtyard had already gathered quite a crowd — “Heaven’s Blade” Tan Zheng, “Cold Crow” Chen Juefang, “Martial Overlord” Gao Huiyun, “Five Net Slash” Tang Qinghua, “Recluse of Tuo River” Xu Longbiao — all had arrived, along with various other mid- and high-ranking figures.

Xu Longbiao and the others greeted him: “Old Meng, come, come… He Wen says he’s going to lay it all out plainly, no more games — what do you think he’s after?”

“As long as he’s willing to talk, that’s a good thing. The worry is he’ll keep things hidden and speak in riddles.”

Meng Zhutao smiled and chatted with the group for a while.

After a moment, the figure of “Wheel-Turning King” Xu Zhaonan appeared in the courtyard. Everyone cupped their hands in greeting, and as he entered the main hall of the courtyard, Meng Zhutao stepped through the crowd to approach him.

Four armed figures accompanied Xu Zhaonan. Seeing Meng Zhutao approach, they smiled and made way.

“Lord Xu, I have some news — best discussed privately.”

“Good. Let’s go to the side hall.”

Xu Zhaonan nodded and led the way in; Meng Zhutao and the four guards followed. Once inside, Xu Zhaonan and Meng Zhutao stepped aside, though Xu Zhaonan gestured toward the four guards nearby with a smile: “They’re all trusted men, no need to worry. Go ahead and speak.”

Meng Zhutao nodded and drew the intelligence report from his sleeve. “Just came in — nine times out of ten, Shen Ling’s men are in Jingjiang. This new army’s been training a while now; hard to say how strong they are, but if this is true, He Wen must have prepared well before flying off the handle.”

Xu Zhaonan took it and looked it over, brow furrowing, then said, “Matches roughly what I’ve heard… No surprise there. This He Wen didn’t get to where he is today as some three-year-old child. Even the small-time thugs under us know you need to win a few fights before negotiating to have any leverage. If he doesn’t have a blade in hand, who’s going to listen to him running his mouth?”

“My man Tang Rui’s group is headed toward Lake Tai. I’ll send an urgent order to redirect them near Jiangyin to help defend.”

“Good, well done.” Xu Zhaonan patted Meng Zhutao’s shoulder.

“Lord Xu, what do you think He Wen will say today?”

“Whatever he says, we’ll deal with it as it comes. As long as he’s willing to talk, willing to negotiate, we’ll always find a way… Surely it can’t be that whatever he says just goes, can it?”

“…I don’t think it’ll be that simple.”

“Simple or not, that’s all we can do.” Xu Zhaonan drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Either way… so what if he’s prepared? Stationing troops at Jingjiang, stationing troops at Lake Tai — if he really meant to fight, why wait until today? If he’d struck suddenly ten days ago, or two months ago, none of us would have been ready, and he could certainly have gained some advantage for a while. But to put it plainly, four against one… even if he manages to land one blow on us, he’s the one who’ll end up dead.”

Meng Zhutao nodded.

The two of them walked out of the side hall.

The courtyard grew ever livelier.

At the hour of Si, the conference convened, and everyone entered the venue.

…

The main venue for the Fairness Party conference had been set up on the most spacious plaza of this grand Jiangnan estate. For this conference, a massive canopy had been erected above the courtyard plaza, with row upon row of tables and chairs arranged in a great circle within this spacious area. The five kings, led by He Wen, sat at the five central wooden tables at the heart of it, while mid- and high-ranking figures from each faction were arrayed behind them, with representatives of emerging groups like the “Great Dragonhead” scattered among them as well.

The conference, held every two days, had by the twenty-first of the ninth month reached its eleventh session. The first few sessions had gone reasonably smoothly, but once Shi Baofeng brought up the study society issue as a pretext, the whole conference had fallen into deadlock, with several of the kings skipping multiple sessions, leaving the mid- and high-level members to come in every couple of days and trade accusations.

Today He Wen had returned to the venue, so Xu Zhaonan, Shi Baofeng, Gao Chang, and Zhou Shang had all shown up as well. The venue had split clearly into five factions, the atmosphere charged with hostility, while the few representatives of smaller powers could only hang back and watch quietly from behind.

After a few perfunctory pleasantries, He Wen, dressed in gray robes, had a large stack of materials set down before him and began to speak.

“…Since this Fairness Party conference opened, I’ve raised several questions that we absolutely must resolve at this gathering. These past days, many of you brothers have discussed these questions at length, and some have asked me exactly what I have in mind. Today, I’m going to lay out all of my thinking, plainly, for everyone to hear.”

He Wen picked up a notebook and slapped it down on the table, then pushed it aside and pulled over a thick stack of records beside it instead.

“But before I talk about solutions, I need to speak to you in detail about the problems that have arisen within our Fairness Party… abuse of power, indiscriminate slaughter, bandit conduct, brothers turning on each other, forcing themselves on women, dressing up misdeeds under false pretenses, corruption and embezzlement… every single one of these, from the moment we rose up last year, I had people investigate and compile — this is only a part of the various misconduct within our Fairness Party!”

He Wen tapped a finger on the stack of materials. “I’m going to read them out to you, one by one, and then we’ll see how to fix them.”

In the crowd, some tilted their heads, some frowned. Across from him, Zhou Shang clapped loudly. “Well said—”

Others joined in the applause: “The Fairness King has real courage!”

He Wen’s gaze stayed calm as he opened to the first page. “Most of our problems surely stem from this business of seizing land from the wealthy and distributing it. Last August, in Haiyu County, Changshu — after the fighting ended, the family in question cooperated fully and was willing to hand over everything they had. We killed the entire family. The women of the household were all raped and killed; the men were tortured to death. The specific details went like this…”

He Wen pointed toward Xu Zhaonan, who gave a thumbs up: “It’s a good thing that the Fairness King is willing to speak of our own problems!”

Applause rose again from the crowd. He Wen glanced that way, and without waiting for it to die down, he calmly continued reciting from the records.

The Fairness Party’s practice of seizing land from the wealthy naturally had a basic set of rules — accidental harm during fighting was to be expected, and the first round of confiscating property often led to accidental harm too; that wasn’t hard to understand. But once the first round of confiscation had taken place, if the other party accepted their punishment, then in order to deal with the guilty, there had to at least be a formal charge. This was the most basic bottom line — but in practice, every region naturally had cases that went beyond it.

This incident that occurred in Haiyu County last August was just one example among many. The first round of confiscation had already killed a good number of the landlord’s family, but the soldiers involved weren’t satisfied — two days later, they went back and brutally killed everyone left in the household whose property had already been seized but who hadn’t yet been driven from the estate… This was something that could never be justified on the surface, no matter how you looked at it — after all, even someone as fond of killing as Zhou Shang, once such things came to light, would have the “White Rakshasa” frame someone first and then use public outrage as pretext to wipe out an entire family.

But such incidents were not isolated cases. Unrestrained refugees from all sides would do anything behind closed doors — or rather, once they’d taken up the banner of “fairness,” those left unchecked grew all the more eager to do such things.

He Wen sat there, reading out these gathered cases one after another.

Occasionally someone applauded, occasionally someone tried to interrupt, but He Wen paid no mind and kept reading on.

The mood in the venue grew tedious. Xu Zhaonan and the others sat there, beginning instead to laugh. Everyone already knew the state of affairs across the Fairness Party’s factions — or rather, during a phase of large-scale, unchecked expansion by inciting refugees, these problems were bound to happen. Breaking into someone’s house, taking their belongings, killing the whole family — how easy was that? Breaking into a town with insufficient oversight, grabbing a few women for fun — how ordinary was that? Of course it was wrong to say so outright, but with expansion happening so fast, who could really control it? Besides, wasn’t the whole reason everyone was sitting here today precisely to get a handle on these things? As for whose fault it fell on — well, that was understandable enough; they could just correct it going forward.

He Wen read on, and the crowd first applauded, then listened, and then some began to yawn. Time slipped away in the tedious process of reading out case after case, until at noon He Wen closed the file and announced a temporary recess. Everyone ate lunch in their respective courtyards, discussed things for a while, and when the afternoon session began, they heard He Wen once again chattering on, reading through the case files.

Nearly at the end of the hour of Wei, He Wen slowly closed the unfinished materials, took a drink of water, and let out a long breath.

The crowd applauded again.

Once he’d let them finish applauding, He Wen took out that first notebook.

“…Over these past two years, the problems that have arisen within the Fairness Party are too numerous to count — I couldn’t finish reading them all even if I tried. But based on these problems, I hope that at this conference, we can move as quickly as possible to bring about these changes. First, item one: we need more detailed laws and principles. Among these principles, there are a few key points I believe should be as follows…”

Xu Zhaonan and the others sat up straight, but what followed was another long, tedious stretch of talk — standardizing procedures for confiscating property, prohibiting indiscriminate killing, prohibiting the use of public power for private revenge… These were things everyone had already been discussing anyway; even Zhou Shang supported these provisions.

“…Second item: correcting mistakes once recognized… Can we take immediate action on some things right now…”

What followed was a series of seemingly detailed ideas and proposals — establishing a “Supervisory Bureau,” setting up a “voting mechanism,” ensuring “orders are carried out and prohibitions are enforced,” setting up “new enforcement squads,” and so on.

The crowd applauded again and again; Xu Zhaonan, Shi Baofeng, Zhou Shang, and the others occasionally cheered without reservation, though their eyes had begun to show some confusion.

Well into the hour of Shen, He Wen finished laying out, in one go, the general outline of his reform ideas. Once he’d wrapped up this section, the venue fell into a kind of bewildered murmuring. Some of these ideas were ordinary, some radical, and quite a few had clearly drawn from experience in the Southwest. But regardless, whether they would actually be carried out would come down to the people involved — to the will of those in power. He had simply thrown these ideas out there; while the others wouldn’t accept them wholesale, there seemed nothing that needed to be kept hidden about discussing and talking them over.

The murmuring was growing louder when, suddenly, Zhou Shang slammed the table and stood up.

“Well said! I agree with the Fairness King!”

Zhou Shang waved his hand and shouted loudly, then, after a moment, looked around and spread his hands.

“I’ll add one more thing — my side, Zhou Shang’s side, is the fairest of all!”

Xu Zhaonan laughed as well: “I basically agree with the Fairness King’s thinking. Of course, there are a few points we can discuss slowly.”

A crowd of people began voicing their opinions, some in support, some in opposition. He Wen sat there watching the clamor go on for a while, then slowly began tapping the table, gradually quieting the room.

“…It seems, brothers, comrades all… you all agree with my thinking, He Wen’s thinking. Our Fairness Party cannot go on without turning around these problems on the table — it seems all of you agree, we must correct our mistakes, we must ensure orders are carried out and prohibitions enforced, we must have more detailed laws and regulations, and we must have a stricter system of enforcement and oversight…”

“I agree with that.”

“We can discuss it, we can discuss it…”

“The legal provisions — we push them through step by step…”

The crowd spoke up one after another, expressing their views, while Xu Zhaonan and the others sat there watching him. He Wen nodded.

“Good. Since everyone has made this promise — to correct our mistakes — we can move forward slowly on these provisions, discuss them at leisure, figure out how to set them up… At the same time, even as we’ve been holding this conference, there’s one matter that has caused a great stir, and we must put a stop to it right now…”

He paused. “As for the so-called members of the study society — they too are official members of the Fairness Party. All they’ve done is read a few books from the Southwest and discuss some reasonable ideas. Much of what they discuss is the same as what I’ve been saying… Over these past few days, some among us have targeted them with hatred, arrested them, and even executed them without trial. Under our own Fairness Code, this was never something that should be allowed to happen! It seems everyone agrees this must stop immediately.”

Xu Zhaonan looked at him. “I think that’s reasonable. We can discuss this — let everyone weigh in on exactly how to handle it…”

He Wen brought his palm down on the table. “Since everyone agrees this was wrong, and everyone acknowledges that mistakes made must be corrected, then first, this must stop. I don’t care how many study society members some among us have arrested these past few days — in the name of the Fairness King, I demand that these innocent comrades, our own brothers, be released immediately, and that no more innocent people be killed. I’ve already arranged people to handle this — starting tomorrow, first within the city of Jiangning, none of this can happen again. And starting tomorrow, there will be people receiving grievances and complaints about this kind of misconduct within the city. Any unrepentant offenders, or any particularly egregious cases of injustice, will be taken up by us — and those who continue this reckless behavior will become the enemies of me, the Fairness King, and of the Fairness Party!”

Gao Chang, who had been silent all along, spoke up, his voice deep and resonant. “Something this big shouldn’t be decided without discussion.”

He Wen spread his hands. “Something this right — I ask all of you to support me! Let’s start from correcting mistakes.”

“Who’s right and who’s wrong — is that for you, the Fairness King, alone to decide?”

“The study society are our own brothers! Of course killing our own brothers must stop immediately!” He Wen laughed. “You all just said it yourselves — correct mistakes once recognized. I’ve already drafted the order on this matter. No matter what, it goes out tomorrow. Anyone who won’t even acknowledge this much — I, He Wen, the Fairness King, won’t acknowledge him either. Whoever doesn’t stop tomorrow is no longer a member of the Fairness Party!”

He Wen pressed both hands on the table, his voice echoing through the venue. His internal energy wasn’t the deepest among those present, but given that the Fairness King had erupted with such a stance of breaking ties, none but the other kings dared to challenge him directly for the moment.

Xu Zhaonan sat there, brows tightly knit, his gaze grave; Gao Chang sat in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, expressionless; Shi Baofeng’s face twitched, the muscles jumping — he looked as if he wanted to laugh, but then his expression turned vicious, as if he hadn’t quite decided whether to smooth things over or lash out.

Some people murmured quietly among themselves: “We can discuss it, we can discuss it…”

“Heh…”

Someone laughed, and abruptly raised a hand.

A boom.

Shadow flipped up into the sky, countless sheets of paper flying into the air.

Zhou Shang, in the center of the venue, flipped over the table in front of He Wen—