Chapter Twenty: Shipbuilding

“Hurrying me to drink tea—there really was something wrong with it!”

“It seems the teapot is double-layered. The tea poured for Tuoba Mu and Tuoba Rong came from one layer, while mine was from another.”

“Luckily, I was cautious, or I would have lost my life here!”

A sudden vigilance rose in Pei Qiong’s heart. He focused intently on Madame Yan and the two Western envoys, watching their every move.

In the half year since the Marquis of Dongjing had been imprisoned, there had been occasional calamities, but never had disasters come one after another as they did now.

Now, even within the Western delegation, there were those who sought to assassinate him!

It seemed that after half a year of brewing, the group lurking in the shadows could no longer restrain themselves—they were preparing to eradicate him completely.

“The adopted son and daughter of the Marquis of Dongjing... Courtiers clinging to imperial power... The Sword Pavilion’s radicals... Foreign dynasties...”

“But which faction is it this time that sent the Western envoys to assassinate me?”

Pei Qiong exhaled softly, realizing that the days ahead would be fraught with the most violent storms.

Meanwhile, Tuoba Ling seemed not to notice the subtle change in Pei Qiong’s expression. Her beautiful eyes gazed at the verdant peaks across the lake, a smile lingering at her lips. She said,

“Brother Pei, the mountain scenery on the opposite shore looks lovely. Shall we go over and enjoy it later?”

Following her gaze, Pei Qiong saw the mountains across the water, covered in towering ancient trees and vibrant blossoms. Yet there were hardly any Sword Pavilion students visible—these were remote peaks, lacking even footpaths for climbing.

The mountains across were deserted; it was not a place to visit...

Especially since the suggestion came from a Western envoy...

Setting aside Madame Yan’s murderous intent, Pei Qiong’s cautious principles alone made it impossible for him to agree to visit the mountains across the lake.

Furthermore, having sensed the Western delegation’s intent to kill him, he could not possibly walk into their trap.

Who knew if assassins were already lying in wait among those mountains, ready to strike the moment he arrived!

“I must quickly find a way to rid myself of these Western envoys,” Pei Qiong thought to himself, scanning the three before him, his tone full of apology as he spoke,

“Honored guests, I suddenly remembered I have matters to attend to. I’m afraid I cannot accompany you to the mountains across the lake.”

“Perhaps I could find some other Sword Pavilion students to accompany you, or you might prefer to explore the Pavilion on your own?”

“This...” Tuoba Ling and Tuoba Mu exchanged glances, surprise flickering in their eyes, and paused for a moment.

---

The two pondered briefly, but did not press him to stay. They said, “Since Brother Pei has matters to attend to...”

Before they could finish, a figure flashed like lightning. The old woman standing nearby wore a cold expression; her energy surged forth, wild and ferocious as a beast poised to devour its prey.

In an instant, the crone appeared before Pei Qiong, her hand forming a claw, sharp enough to crush iron and stone, reaching for his throat.

She’d clearly sensed Pei Qiong’s intent to leave and, abandoning all pretense, struck decisively to kill him on the spot.

“What terrifying force! A master of martial arts indeed—her attack is astonishing!”

“Still as a boulder, deadly as a shaking mountain; she seemed capable of slaying enemies from a thousand miles away, taking their heads with ease!”

Startled, Pei Qiong’s gaze reflected the old woman’s form. His inner energy surged, gathering along his meridians into fists and palms.

Since crossing into this world, he had gained mastery over two martial arts thanks to his golden finger.

Each day, countless insights surfaced in his mind, as if he’d fought for a hundred years, honed his skills for a lifetime; every trick, method, and technique was now second nature.

He had also spent days sorting through memories of his former self, diligently practicing martial arts, and was thoroughly familiar with this body—ready to unleash his skills at a moment’s notice.

“Hah—!”

With a low shout, Pei Qiong raised his fist, striking out like a giant ape, formidable and fierce, the terrifying force concentrated in his punch as it collided with the old woman’s claw!

Golden Scale Fist!

Crack!

Fist and claw met; spiderweb-like fissures split the ground. The crone staggered back several steps, her eyes wide in shock as she watched Pei Qiong’s figure fly backward—astonished to find such hidden strength!

He had blocked her attack head-on!

From the clash, Pei Qiong’s fist felt as though it had struck impenetrable black iron; pain shot through his bones, and the force sent him flying.

This sudden turn stunned both Tuoba Rong and Tuoba Mu; the Sword Pavilion students nearby recoiled in alarm, making way.

“So strong!”

Using the momentum, Pei Qiong widened the distance between himself and the old woman, his eyes keen and unwavering.

“Heh, no wonder you are the Marquis of Dongjing’s true son. Your martial prowess is impressive—I underestimated you!”

“So young and already so skilled; given more time, you might leave a grand mark upon the martial world.”

The old woman snorted coldly, darting forward with ghostly speed, ready to strike again.

“Madame Yan, stop! What are you doing?!”

---

Seeing this, Tuoba Rong finally regained her senses, her expression shifting dramatically as she hurried to intervene.

But the crone paid her no heed; her energy raged, bypassing the Sword Pavilion students, blood-red veins appearing on her fists as she lashed out at Pei Qiong’s heart.

“How dare you!”

At that moment, the commotion drew the attention of the Pavilion’s masters. The chief instructor of the Vermilion Bird Hall rushed over.

He was tall and broad, his energy powerful, wielding a black iron staff, his gaze sharp and imposing, like a wrathful Vajra.

With a flash, the chief instructor of Vermilion Bird Hall stood before Pei Qiong, swinging the iron staff with the force of a thousand catties, striking the old woman without mercy.

The longer the weapon, the greater the advantage!

As a renowned figure on the “Martial Dao Earth Ranking,” the Pavilion’s chief instructor possessed formidable strength; his iron staff struck the crone’s abdomen, sending her flying, blood spraying from her mouth as she staggered to her feet.

At that moment, Pei Qiong appeared beside the old woman, raising his palm to strike.

The blow was powerful and relentless, like endless waves crashing down; in the instant it struck, it shattered her bones and severed her meridians.

Spurt—

The old woman was sent flying, crashing hard onto the stone bridge, her body wedged deep into the cracks.

Just then, a middle-aged man reeking of alcohol hurried over. He looked disheveled, hair in disarray, holding a wine jug in his left hand and a long sword in his right.

“It’s him!”

Pei Qiong recognized the man—he was the martial expert secretly sent by Master Li to protect him.

Yet again, he arrived late. Whether intentional or due to drunkenness, it was unclear.

Whatever the reason, it was the second time he had failed in his duty.

Pei Qiong would have to report this to Master Li and request a new protector.

“Madame Yan, why did you attempt to kill the Marquis of Dongjing’s true son?!”

Tuoba Rong, seeing Madame Yan gravely injured and unable to move, stared in shock, her eyes wide as she demanded an explanation.

“Forgive me, Miss. This old woman was left with no choice, acting under orders,” Madame Yan replied, her tone tinged with apology. In the next moment, she struck her own heart with her palm, ending her life without hesitation.