Chapter 1562: Chapter 962: Clash of the Immortals (Part 2)

Yet his mind was clearly elsewhere, and his expression was nothing like Situ Ye’s arrogant, self-satisfied air of superior talent.

His features were indifferent, yet a proud air of standing head and shoulders above the crowd flowed from him as naturally as breathing.

His gaze swept lightly across them, and Situ Ye, whose face had been clouded with anger, instantly fell silent.

"Is this a marketplace brawl? Or are you all country bumpkins from some backwater village? Making such a racket—why don’t you simply strip off your formal robes and have it out with your fists?"

The others who had originally wanted to speak up on Situ Ye’s behalf saw this man open his mouth and at once put away their postures, saying no more.

Instead it was that Rong Lijun who, looking utterly free of all Taboo, watched as Baili An was sizing up the speaker, and actually introduced him in a relaxed tone:

"This is the legendary Mu Yunye, son of a Golden Immortal, the white-robed Young Lord of the Upper Pure Realm and Guyin, famed side by side as one of the Eastern Immortal Realm’s prodigies."

"With him here now, I’m afraid it’ll be rather difficult for anyone else to win the hand of Third Miss Fang."

Seeing his grinning demeanor, Baili An thought he looked nothing like someone here to vie for a bride and very much like a Demon Lord of Mayhem who feared the world might not be chaotic enough and had come purely to stir the pot.

Mu Yunye gave Rong Lijun a faint glance, but did not respond to his praise or teasing; he quickly withdrew his gaze and lowered his head to sip his wine.

"Young Master Ji, how long do you plan on standing there alone? Must we all come to blows on your account before you’ll deign to take your seat?"

Mu Yunye’s face showed none of Situ Ye’s insolent arrogance; every movement and gesture conformed to the rules of the royal house.

Even the way he addressed Baili An was most courteous and polite.

Yet if he were truly courteous and willing to treat others as equals, then why, when speaking to Rong Li—even if it was a reprimand—did he meet his eyes formally,

while he never once spared Baili An a proper, direct look?

The measured courtesy on his lips was no more than the effortless issuing of orders by one in high station to someone ordinary.

Baili An glanced at his own seat; it was placed right at the very end, by the door.

This City Lord of Shifang City was truly amusing: even when choosing a son-in-law for his own daughter, he still had to divide rank and station so strictly.

Of course, at this moment he was neither the Crown Prince of the Central Netherworld nor Baili An, Young Master of the Xijian Sect and wielder of the Tianxi Sword, but Ji Xinnian, a Disciple of the Taixuan Nine Classics whose name had only recently begun to spread.

Compared with these second-generation immortals of exalted birth, he naturally fell far short.

Baili An did not care where he sat; in his view, if one truly wished to marry Fang Geyu, the real requirements did not hinge on how high or low one’s seat was here.

Composed, he walked forward two steps, saluted Fang Geyu, then went to sit in his assigned place.

He also did not, as Situ Ye had demanded, punish himself with three cups.

Situ Ye found his petty, small-minded manner thoroughly dull.

He lifted his eyes to look at Third Miss Fang, seated in the place of honor, and saw her expression was cool and remote, even more absent in spirit than that Golden Immortal’s son, Mu Yunye; her mind was clearly not on the feast at all.

Although the banquet had already gone on for half the day, she had spoken very little.

It was only when that small-minded, common fellow had entered the hall to take his seat that she had asked an extra question; after Situ Ye interrupted, the boy did not respond, and Third Miss Fang likewise fell silent again.

As the hostess, to let the occasion fall into such repeated awkward lulls was naturally discourteous.

Fortunately, at the banquet there were still servants to serve dishes and pour wine for the guests, and Dancers and musicians to enliven the atmosphere.

And at the side of the mostly silent Third Miss Fang sat a female Steward, Qin Lou, whose special responsibility was to preside over the choosing of a husband.

Shifang City had two Stewards, one male and one female.

The male was the City Lord Fang You’s own younger brother, Fang Chi.

The other was this Miss Qin Lou, whose gentle brows and eyes naturally carried a trace of Mortal World mist and rain.

Seeing that Fang Geyu still did not speak, Qin Lou said with a warm smile, "I wonder if today’s dishes and wine are to all you Young Masters’ taste?"

Situ Ye took up the thread of conversation. "Every flower and tree, every blade of grass and stone in Shifang City is taken from the very best the world has to offer. Since these delicacies and fine wines were deemed worthy to be set on this table, how could they fail to satisfy?"

Qin Lou smiled faintly, clearly still intending to say a few polite phrases. "You gentlemen have come from afar..."

"I hear you’re all here because you want to marry me?"

But she was ruthlessly, and rudely, cut off by Fang Geyu.

Qin Lou’s face paused for a moment; she gave a helpless smile and said no more.

Such a blunt question, utterly lacking in a woman’s reserve or shyness, left the men at the table uncertain how to respond.

Yin Baishuang, wearing the guise of the Sparrow God, curved his brows and eyes into a smile and said, "Third Miss Fang’s beauty is like the blossoming hibiscus, all the more moving for it; full and graceful in bearing, with a jade-like loveliness wrapped in warmth—truly the one and only gold-branch, jade-leaf, the Imperial Pearl of this world.

Tell me, what man would not wish to take you as his wife? Isn’t that so, my dear Xinnian?"

At this moment, if Baili An were capable of sweating, he would surely be drenched in cold sweat from head to toe.

Situ Ye and the Sparrow God of Shenzhou had always been at odds, and he found it very strange now.

He distinctly remembered that this Sparrow God usually liked to play with blades and weapons, detesting books the most, a big oaf with barely a few taels of ink in his belly.

How was it that today, such literary elegance and talent flowed from him as easily as turning his hand?

It seemed that before coming to Shifang City, this fellow had indeed put in considerable effort in order to marry Third Miss Fang.

However... his attitude toward that common fellow was truly subtle.

In answer to Fang Geyu’s blunt question, the rest of the second-generation immortals also voiced their positions one after another, expressing their sincere desire to wed her.

Seated at the highest place, Mu Yunye, like Baili An, did not directly respond to Fang Geyu’s words before everyone, merely gazed at her with eyes full of appreciation and praise.