Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 628 - 239

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Hearing the voice, the anxious crowd outside instinctively raised their heads to look, and the faces of those bruised and swollen young nobles appeared even more sincerely aggrieved, as if they were more wronged than Dou E in the opera.

A plush beauty supported a middle-aged man dressed in light green everyday clothes.

The man tried to maintain an apologetic expression as he glanced up only to see the large double doors wide open, the deep courtyard seemingly stretching endlessly, from which only one person in white with black hair had emerged. His heart slightly relaxed, he pushed away the plush beauty supporting him and took three steps forward to salute with clasped hands:

"Mister Mei San..."

"I am Gao Tianlu from Xuancheng, paying respects to Mister Mei San."

It was not only he who did this; all the family elders watching over their young also stepped forward to pay their respects. With a much calmer demeanor and a rather humble tone of voice, they introduced themselves. However, when those names were put together, no one could ignore their significance.

These noble clans have been around for at least a hundred years.

There is an unspoken truth in the world: the Imperial Court is ever-changing, but noble clans remain forever.

"Jing Mingde from Yonghui, paying respects to Mister Mei San..."

"Beiyun Zhong Xuehai."

"Fuhuai..."

Hidden within the crowd, Zhu Yunmeng watched this scene, sneering slightly, and felt bored, losing the interest to continue watching the excitement.

Gao Tianlu lowered his hand and earnestly said to the man in front:

"Mister Mei San..."

"The fault lays with these youngsters concerning yesterday's matter. I have already severely chastised my errant son, and he has come to recognize his errors."

"They were all just caught up in the heat of the moment during their youth. Mister Mei San, you and I were once so frivolous ourselves. Why make things difficult for these young people?"

"I hope you can be magnanimous, overlook the mistakes of these youngsters. Gao here thanks you in advance..."

He bowed again, then fiercely turned to look at Gao Zhenhai, whose face was bruised and swollen from the beating. He kicked him hard and rebuked:

"You wretch, do you realize your mistake?!"

"Are you not going to apologize to Mister Mei San this instant?!"

Seizing the opportunity, Gao Zhenhai threw himself forward, disregarding his dignity, and apologized in a low voice.

The many noble offspring around immediately knew this was a crucial moment that could allow them to escape their plight sooner. They laid on the charm as thick as they could, with heartfelt words and choked voices, showing an earnest simplicity—desperate enough to knock their heads to the ground in prostration.

The usually quiet Mei household momentarily resembled a bustling marketplace street, the clamor almost too much to bear. Zhu Yunmeng, now finding the situation amusing once more, thought it was such a waste that these young nobles weren't performing in theatres with their talent for changing faces so adeptly.

Had they been willing to learn to sing, she would certainly attend their performances time after time.

Gao Tianlu looked at Mei Wangsheng, hoping that Mei Wangsheng would understand the implications and not worsen relations with the numerous noble clans. Deep down, he certainly didn't mind using this opportunity to form a good relationship with the Mei family of Wanling.

Sacrificing his own face for friendship was not a loss, no matter how one looked at it.

The man in white didn't answer, his gaze sweeping across them as he suddenly burst into laughter. As the laughter subsided, it was as if he awoke from a dream. Shaking his head and sighing, he stepped forward thirteen steps with his hand on the sword.

In his palm was a sword that exuded a chill capable of freezing tens of thousands.

The longsword sang as it left the scabbard, a flash of chilling brilliance that resembled the blooming of plum blossoms everywhere. The sight turned the complexions of the kneeling young nobles deathly pale, their bodies shivering in terror, and the previous sounds of sincerity ceased abruptly.

Zhu Yunmeng couldn't help but cry out softly, her voice delicate. If it weren't for the surrounding onlookers who were also in shock, she might have given herself away. Covering her face with her folding fan, her eyes sparkled with eagerness and excitement.

Gao Tianlu turned ashen.

The sword's radiance reflected in his eyes, the biting cold causing a sharp pain on his face. Were it not for the fact that he had served as an official for several years and had some skill in the Qi Nurturing Technique, his legs might have given out, making him collapse on the spot. At the moment, he could only stand firm with the help of the beauty beside him.

The sword's light faded in an instant, revealing hairpins scattered all over the ground.

The young nobles stood with ghastly pale faces. Only two of them barely managed to maintain their composure, kneeling rigidly, their complexions likewise drained of color, their hands on their knees trembling uncontrollably.

Hairpins and jade crowns that once held up hairdos were now strewn before them.

It was only then that Gao Tianlu regained his breath. He had almost thought Mei Wangsheng had gone mad—but wasn't this already madness? To slash through hairpins with a sword was a great humiliation to a scholar, almost equivalent to a death sentence.

Mei Wangsheng sheathed his sword.

He lifted his eyes to look at the surrounding noble offspring, his gaze tinged with mockery.

He stood under the characters for "Mei Mansion," with the deep courtyard behind him, its depths unfathomable.

Gao Tianlu's lady companion was soft and delicate, but suddenly seemed to lose herself in a trance. He saw the Mister Mei San who spent eighteen years immersed in playing the zither and raising cranes, conversing about profound metaphysics, standing under the great sign of the Mei Mansion, reminding him of the Mei Baiyi who rode horses and sang out loud twenty-three years ago.

People say that underneath the city of Wanling, plum blossoms bloom everywhere.

Where the sword's edge falls, there lie plum blossoms.

The man sheathed his sword, averted his gaze, and as always, was sparing with words. He simply said indifferently:

"Scram."

Directed at nearly half of Wanling City's noble offspring, he first cut off their topknots in front of everyone and then dismissively told them to "scram," and they really did scramble away in a most disgraceful manner.

Zhu Yunmeng watched with satisfaction, lightly shaking her folding fan. She did not wish to reveal her presence and decided to leave with the commoners who knew they couldn't stay to watch any further.

Turning around, she caught sight of the beautiful woman in white, likely a disciple of Qingfeng Edge, still standing at the entrance of the side alley. Her dark eyebrows slightly furrowed, as if she was pondering over something. It was only then that Zhu Yunmeng noticed an old man with white hair and a weathered face standing five steps behind the woman in white.

Dressed in indigo vigorous attire adorned with cloud patterns, his sleeves tightly bound for ease of movement, and with a broad longsword strapped to his back, he stood tall and straight like a pine tree. Without uttering a word, he already exuded the demeanor of a master, quite extraordinary.

But thinking back, Zhu Yunmeng realized that her gaze had been so captivated by the woman in white holding a sword and walking slowly that she had failed to notice this old man who was clearly no ordinary individual.

It was just a pity that she didn't get to see a disciple of Qingfeng Edge take action.

Zhu Yunmeng inwardly regretted, perhaps her gaze was too direct. The woman in white looked up, her eyes as clear and cold as jade, and Zhu Yunmeng suddenly felt a bit embarrassed.

Just as she was about to look away, the woman in white nodded naturally at her. Zhu Yunmeng was slightly startled, a smile appeared on her lips. After a moment's thought, she put down her fan, showed her true face with a smile, and nodded back, as if greeting an old friend, suddenly feeling much happier.

The young maidservant by her side shifted from the Mei Residence's boundary, her interest still piqued as she looked toward Zhu Yunmeng and curiously asked:

"Miss, where are we going now...?"

Zhu Yunmeng shook her folding fan and said:

"Back to 'Painted Barge.' "

"Eh??"

The little maidservant looked unwilling.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

Zhu Yunmeng laughed softly, pinched the maidservant's chubby cheek, and said with a smile:

"I'm in a good mood today and feel like playing the qin when I return, which will spare Mother from grumbling when she gets back."

"You don't wish to hear her go on, do you?"

The maidservant pouted, "Alright then..."

"Sigh... it's so rare we get to go out."

Gong Yu followed behind with his sword, full of curiosity. The disguised woman hadn't been particularly skilled, and with his extensive Jianghu experience, he could tell at a glance. What surprised him was that Gong Yu seemed to also have acquaintances here.

By the look in her eyes, she was clearly no ordinary person.

This thought fleetingly crossed his mind, but Taishu Jian's attention was quickly captured by Mei Wangsheng standing at the gate of the Mei Residence.

He had previously thought this person was just a rigid Scholar from a Noble Clan, but a single unsheathing of his sword had revealed a rigorous demeanour. He had thoroughly displayed the grand, righteous sword momentum of the Imperial Sword Hall, which would require a great deal of effort to achieve, yet his actions were undoubtedly those of a Madman.

He had never imagined he was witnessing a skilled Swordsman.

Gong Yu's gaze swept over the dishevelled hairpins in front of the Mei Residence, her expression indifferent. She immediately turned and walked away.

She had come today merely to vent anger on Lin Qiaofu's behalf, and now that those Noble Clan sons had been sent away, she obviously had no interest in staying any longer.

Mei Wangsheng, clad in white and holding a sword, said:

"Miss Gong Yu, Mister Taishu, please wait a moment."

"I have something to tell you."

As the populace walked out from the Mei Residence, they whispered among themselves, many of them convinced that this situation was far from over. Like revered gentry and admonishing officials, the Noble Clans never feared death but dreaded the loss of reputation. If they accepted today's humiliation without a response, they would struggle to hold their heads high ever again.

This had been one of the rare upheavals in Wanling City in the past fifteen years.

The last incident involved Grand Preceptor Zhou Fengyue casually employing several strategies to send the Noble Clans of Jiangnan Road into a frenzy. Back then at the Imperial Court, a certain Doctor challenged Zhou Fengyue, even leading a procession of colleagues carrying coffins to his door in protest.

But could Zhou Fengyue, who had remained in power through three reigns of the Great Qin Dynasty, really be overthrown with such tactics? Many laughed at the man, calling him a Madman, waiting to see him mocked.

However, after that incident, the Wen Family's Civil Official, who originated from the Ministry of Writing, became renowned for his 'fearlessness of death' and rapidly ascended the ranks within a decade, eventually becoming the Family Head of the Danyang Wen Family.

He now occupied the prestigious position of Doctor at the Imperial Court, one of the highest honors.

When encountering the former Grand Preceptor, respect was still in order, and people started to realize the motives behind the affiliation between this civil servant seeking governance and the venerable Grand Preceptor seeking fame; it was implicitly a perfect match.

Some found such tactics rather unsightly and unworthy, succeeding to become the Family Head of Wen through dirty schemes. But on reflection, those who dared to carry out and succeed in such feats were rare enough, at least stronger than his contemporaries.

As for the former Grand Preceptor Zhou Fengyue, no one dared to gossip about him. The kindly-looking veteran of three reigns was now cherished just like the old Minister, considered the living auspicious omen in the courts of the Great Qin Dynasty. Even when he missed a few consecutive morning courts, The Emperor turned a blind eye.

Such favor had reached its apex across history.

The ministers who had just accompanied the energetic young Emperor in handling state affairs in the Tai Chi Palace emerged exhausted, leaving the palace in twos and threes. Lin Zizai, although lacking an official position, possessed abundant knowledge and was highly entrusted by The Emperor and was the last to leave.

As he exited, he turned to glance at the most foremost seat on his left.

For nearly fifty years, the position of the First Rank Grand Preceptor in Great Qin had remained vacant.

Without a Grand Preceptor, the Civil Officials had to acknowledge the Grand Preceptor of the Central Secretariat from the Three Provinces and Six Ministries as their leader, who had now declined to appear in court for three consecutive days.

In a courtyard on Xuanwu Street of Heaven Capital City, the preeminent scholar, after being absent for three days due to illness, sat under a large tree, looked up at the green leaves, and became lost in thought.

"Spring has arrived..."

PS: The first update of the day is here...

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