Martial Dao: I Can Enhance My Talents
Chapter 232 - 231: It Must Be Borrowed
"Patriarch Fang, have you made your decision?"
Gong Biao toyed with a pair of iron gall balls in his hand, which made a CLACKING sound as they rubbed together. His tone was one of undisguised pressure.
"Hand over the mining rights to that silver mine, and you might get some compensation. If you don’t know what’s good for you..."
He paused, his cold gaze sweeping over the Fang Family. The threat was self-evident.
Fang Tu, the most hot-tempered of the group, shot to his feet at these words and roared, "Patriarch Gong, you’ve gone too far!"
"Gone too far?" Gong Biao sneered, glancing askance at Fang Tu. "So what if I have? In this world, the weak are meat for the strong. That’s the law of the jungle! Can your Fang Family even hold on to this wealth?"
"You!" Fang Tu trembled with rage and was about to step forward to argue.
"Fang Tu!" Fang Lingyuan barked, stopping him. He took a deep breath, looked at Gong Biao, and forcibly suppressed his anger, trying to keep his tone as calm as possible.
"Patriarch Gong, while my Fang Family may be a small clan, we are not to be trifled with. Our own Fang Han has joined the Qingxuan Sect and... is ranked in the top one hundred on the Qingxuan Sect’s general ranking."
He brought up Fang Han, hoping it would make the other party hesitate. After all, the title of a disciple from one of the Seven Sects carried significant weight in Qingyang County.
However, when Gong Biao heard this, not only did he show no hesitation, he looked as if he had just heard a joke.
"Hahaha! Fang Lingyuan, have you lost your mind?"
Gong Biao stopped laughing, his face filled with contempt.
"Top one hundred on the Qingxuan Sect’s general ranking? That sounds decent. It seems your junior has some talent. But so what?"
He leaned forward slightly, enunciating each word.
"My son, Gong Xing, is a True Disciple of the Netherworld Pavilion! A True Inheritor, do you understand? They are the true core of a Sect, its future pillars! How can a mere ordinary disciple from your family, ranked in the top hundred, possibly compare?"
"Whether it’s identity, status, or strength, the difference is like heaven and earth! You think you can scare my Gong Family with that? Dream on!"
Gong Bao added proudly.
"My older brother is ranked twenty-sixth among the Netherworld Pavilion’s True Inheritors. His cultivation has reached the Late Stage of Sixth Grade. Crushing that Fang Han fellow would be as easy as crushing an ant!"
"I advise your Fang Family to stop clinging to unrealistic fantasies and obediently hand over the mining rights. Otherwise, when my older brother comes in person, he won’t be as reasonable as we’re being today!"
The faces of the Fang Family members instantly turned deathly pale.
Was the one they were relying on actually so insignificant in their opponents’ eyes?
Was the gap between a True Disciple and an ordinary Inner Sect Disciple really that vast?
They wondered if Fang Han could even successfully ask a True Inheritor for help.
A sense of humiliation and resentment began to spread through the hearts of Fang Lingyuan and the several Elders.
Seeing the ashen faces of the Fang Family, Gong Biao was immensely pleased with himself. He stood up, adjusted his robes, and spoke in a tone that brooked no argument.
"Fang Lingyuan, my patience is limited. If you remain stubborn, don’t blame my Gong Family for being merciless!"
Inside the hall, the air seemed to freeze solid, weighing heavily on the hearts of everyone in the Fang Family.
Gong Biao’s undisguised threat was like an icicle, piercing Fang Lingyuan and the Elders, making their blood run cold.
If they handed over the silver mine, the Fang Family would suffer a devastating loss.
If they didn’t, it was unlikely they would get out of this unscathed today. The Martial Artists the Gong Family had brought were clearly not here to watch a show.
Fang Lingyuan’s fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. He was grinding his teeth so hard his gums were about to bleed. A sense of powerlessness washed over him.
Just as tensions reached a breaking point and the Fang Family was forced into a corner—
"Hmph!"
A cold snort, like a frigid winter wind, suddenly came from outside the hall.
The sound wasn’t loud, yet it clearly pierced the stagnant air, carrying an undeniable authority that instantly reached everyone’s ears.
"The Gong Family? What arrogance! You dare come to my Fang Family and act so atrociously?"
Before the voice had even faded, a figure appeared at the hall’s entrance like a phantom, silhouetted against the light, his posture as straight and tall as a pine tree.
The newcomer wore a silver-striped cyan robe that seemed to shimmer faintly in the light from outside. Exquisite silver threads embroidered swirling cloud patterns on the cuffs and collar, highlighting his extraordinary status.
A dark cyan longsword hung at his waist. Though still sheathed, it naturally exuded a sharp aura.
His face was young, but his eyes were as serene as a deep pool. His cold gaze swept over the members of the Gong Family in the hall.
It was Fang Han!
"Fang Han!"
Fang Lingyuan, Fang Mingde, Fang Tu, and the others were stunned for a moment, then their faces instantly broke out in expressions of irrepressible, joyous surprise.
Fang Han had actually returned at a time like this!
But immediately after, their gazes were firmly drawn to the conspicuous robe Fang Han was wearing.
Its style, its patterns... were completely different from the ordinary robes of Qingxuan Sect disciples, exuding an air of nobility and authority.
"This is..." Fang Lingyuan’s pupils shrank. He seemed to have thought of something, and his breathing suddenly became ragged.
The moment Fang Han appeared, Gong Biao’s heart also skipped a beat.
As a family with a True Inheritor in the Netherworld Pavilion, the Gong Family immediately recognized that the newcomer was wearing the True Inheritance Robe of the Qingxuan Sect.
Hearing the exclamations from the Fang Family, he instantly understood the newcomer’s identity—it was Fang Han, the Fang Family disciple cultivating at the Qingxuan Sect!
’But... didn’t the Fang Family say this kid was just a disciple in the top hundred of the Qingxuan Sect’s general ranking? How could a top-hundred disciple be wearing a True Inheritance Robe?’
Gong Biao’s gaze roamed over Fang Han, his expression flickering with shock and suspicion.
Suddenly, inspiration struck him as if he’d grasped the key to it all. A cold sneer, mixed with ridicule and sudden understanding, curled his lips.
"I was wondering who it was. So it’s you, boy."
Gong Biao sat back down, his earlier arrogance returning. He looked at Fang Han askance, his tone filled with mockery.
"The Fang Family is quite the schemer! To scare me, Gong Biao, you actually had this kid borrow a hide like this to wear."
"What, you think draping yourself in the tiger skin of a True Inheritor is enough to scare off my Gong Family?"
The more he spoke, the more convinced he became that he had guessed the truth, and his voice grew louder.
At these words, the hearts of the Fang Family members, who had been ecstatic over Fang Han’s return in a True Inheritance Robe, couldn’t help but sink.
’That’s right. Just over two months ago, Fang Han was ranked ninety-fifth on the general ranking. To leap from ninety-fifth to a True Inheritor in just over two months... that speed is just too incredible.’
’Could it be... Did Fang Han really borrow a True Inheritance Robe just to intimidate the Gong Family?’
The gazes of Fang Lingyuan and the others couldn’t help but fill with worry and doubt as they looked at Fang Han.
If the robe was indeed borrowed, not only would the Fang Family’s situation remain unchanged, but Fang Han might also face punishment from the Sect later on.
"While I haven’t changed my mind, take your people and get out of the Fang Family’s estate."
Faced with Gong Biao’s accusations and the doubtful gazes of his own family, Fang Han’s expression didn’t change in the slightest.
His icy gaze landed on Gong Biao as if he were looking at a dead man, and his voice was devoid of all emotion.
He paused, his tone firm and decisive, carrying an unquestionable finality.
"From now on, do not even think about the silver mine again. If you dare to covet it or set foot in Liangshui City ever again, you will bear the consequences."
"Hahaha!"
Upon hearing this, Gong Biao, instead of getting angry, burst out laughing as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world.
He shot to his feet, the last trace of feigned calm on his face vanishing completely, replaced by savagery and ruthlessness.
"You little bastard! Putting on an act! Still talking tough at a time like this? Seize him for me! Rip that hide right off him!"
He roared the last sentence at the dozen or so Gong Family Martial Artists behind him.
"Yes, sir!"
Hearing the command, the dozen or so Gong Family Martial Artists immediately pounced on Fang Han from all directions like hungry wolves lunging for their prey.
The glint of blades and swords flashed in an instant. A fierce gale swept through the hall, causing the tables and chairs to creak and groan.
These Martial Artists were all elites of the Gong Family. Attacking in concert, their combined momentum was quite astonishing.
"Fang Han, be careful!"
Fang Lingyuan’s face fell. He cried out in alarm, and along with Fang Tu, Fang Zhenshan, and the others, he instinctively moved to help.
However, the black-robed old man who had been silent all this time suddenly opened his eyes, a sharp glint bursting forth from within them.
A powerful aura belonging to the Peak of Seventh Grade erupted in an instant, forming an invisible wall that firmly blocked Fang Lingyuan and the others.
"Patriarch Fang, if you wish to make a move, then allow me to accompany you."
The black-robed old man’s voice was hoarse and carried a sinister chill.
’Courting death!’
Facing an assault that would have sent a Seventh Grade Martial Artist scrambling, Fang Han stood his ground, not moving an inch.
He didn’t even glance at the charging Martial Artists. His gaze remained calmly fixed on Gong Biao’s face, but the coldness in his eyes suddenly blazed with the ferocity of the harshest winter.
"CLANG!"
The Flowing Wind Sword let out a clear, piercing ring as it was suddenly unsheathed!
The dark cyan blade drew a graceful arc through the air.
Fang Han merely flicked his wrist. His movement was elegant and unhurried, as if he weren’t in a life-or-death battle but rather taking a leisurely stroll while painting with broad strokes.
Yet, with that seemingly casual flick, several streams of extremely condensed, pale cyan Sword Qi, as thin as a cicada’s wing, had already shot out from the blade.
The Sword Qi was silent, yet it moved faster than the eye could follow, as if it had torn through space itself, instantly sweeping past the foremost Gong Family Martial Artists.
The charging figures of several Gong Family Martial Artists froze abruptly, the savage expressions on their faces locked in place.
The next moment, their bodies slid apart silently at the waist. Blood gushed out like fountains, and their entrails spilled onto the floor.
It wasn’t until their upper bodies hit the floor with a dull thud that the remaining Gong Family Martial Artists reacted. They stopped in their tracks, utterly horrified, their faces filled with extreme terror as they stared at the gruesome scene.
The entire hall was instantly plunged into a deathly silence.
You could hear a pin drop.
Fang Lingyuan and the others stared with wide eyes and slightly agape mouths, looking in disbelief at the four Gong Family elites who had been dismembered in an instant. Then they looked back at Fang Han, who stood holding his sword, utterly spotless. Their minds went blank.
Sword Qi that could kill from a distance, felling four of the Gong Family’s skilled fighters with a single strike... Fang Han’s strength was far, far greater than it had been at the start of the year.
"You little bastard! You dare kill my Gong Family’s men!"
The sneer on Gong Biao’s face froze completely. He stared intently at the sword in Fang Han’s hand and the tragic scene on the ground.
Overwhelming rage and heartache rose in his chest. His eyes looked ready to pop from their sockets as he let out a roar.
His Sixth Grade Internal Qi erupted from his body with a boom. His muscles bulged, straining the silk of his robes.
He stomped his feet hard on the ground, and the bluestone floor tiles cracked inch by inch. His body shot toward Fang Han, radiating an astonishing killing intent!
His two fists whistled through the air with a piercing shriek, smashing toward Fang Han with immense force, as if they could shatter a mountain.