To force the king is to force the king. He can always find the best opportunity to show his holiness in front of others at the most critical moment.

And unknowingly, he stole the limelight from Fengqi's younger brother.

Of course, there is also the suspicion that this was done deliberately.

After all, when it comes to showing off, he does his best and no one can compete with him, including his own family.

At this time, he drew his sword out of its sheath, and the sword intent on the sixth floor instantly surged to its strongest state. It was at its peak right from the start, and he was bound to become famous in this battle.

Except for Qin Huaihe's seven guards and a cold-faced Zhuo Qingming, almost everyone present was forced back by the sword intent and took several steps back before stopping.

Lei Ye, who was in the third row, didn't intend to challenge the king, but he was too close to him, just a few feet away from a seat. The sword almost passed by his face, making him quite passive. He had no choice but to temporarily

Avoid the edge.

In just a moment, the two powerful writers, who had been keeping a low profile for a long time, had already intimidated the entire audience.

At this moment of astonishment, everyone realized that it was the two writers who had occupied the second row of thrones who had no choice but to come out to cause trouble.

Suddenly, the angry curses started again, and in the commotion, a handsome young man wearing a brocade robe stood up and spoke in the quintessence of Chinese culture, "What a bastard! The great men are talking here, and you are a little pen holder."

What qualifications do you have to talk to me? Be careful, I will cut off your head!"

Although he is not old, his temper is not small.

When facing Jiang Ming and Bai Piaoyang, he said nothing, but when facing the two forced kings, he criticized them verbally and writing.

He spitted wildly in his passionate anger, which truly brought his bullying skills to the extreme.

However, he thought that Li Sansi and Leng Changkong were weaklings, but he didn't know that they were the Yamen who wrote the book, and they were even the two most famous kings in the entire Wei Dynasty.

They have always only been able to show off in front of others. Others can't even think of being presumptuous in front of them. Even if they speak loudly, they have to reflect on whether they have the qualifications.

So as soon as the young master finished speaking, Li Sansi didn't need to say anything. Leng Changkong, who was eager to show off again, looked sideways and smiled contemptuously.

Then he raised his right hand slightly, and a very narrow but very bright sword light passed directly through the air, and in the blink of an eye it landed on the mallet-like bun on the opponent's head.

This sword shot was very decisive and decisive.

The speed is incredibly fast.

The bun exploded on the spot and turned into a puff of smoke under the light of the sword.

The smooth and shiny scalp in the middle was exposed, looking very happy.

But the young master himself was not harmed in any way.

Not even the splendid robe on his body was shaking at all.

This shows how strong Leng Changkong's control over this sword is.

At this time, the young man was already stunned on the spot.

The cool feeling coming from the top of his head made him overwhelmed, and for a moment he felt as if his head had been moved.

If one of his companions hadn't had the courage to drag him down, he might have peed his pants on the spot.

The gesture of being dragged aside while stumbling was very funny.

But no one could laugh.

Everyone didn't expect Leng Changkong to be so bluffing and start taking action before even saying a few words.

The powerful Sixth Floor Sword Intention wandered under the sword light, exuding an extremely sharp and cold air.

All the prostitutes suddenly woke up and seemed to realize that although the silver medal writer was a bad guy, he was also a real sixth-floor swordsman!

Sword practitioners are extremely powerful in combat and are known as the "superior gods of war".

Although he is on the sixth floor of Kendo, we do not rule out the possibility that he can leapfrog and challenge other seventh-floor systems.

Everyone took a step back again, and the yelling suddenly stopped.

He was afraid that if Leng Changkong fell ill again, he would be struck with a sword.

I was very satisfied with the crowd's reaction and wanted to shock the crowd by myself. No one but myself could do it, right?

He lowered his sword without falling, the sword's intention was still entwined in his palm, ready to draw the sword again at any time to show off.

Jiang Ming seemed to be infected by his anger, and the anger in his expression disappeared. He took a step forward, assumed the aura of a second-generation official, and said, "What a great sword! It's a pity that he is working for the pen holder! The future is not good.

...How about joining the six departments of the imperial city? The Ministry of Justice? The Ministry of War? Or the Ministry of Officials? No matter where you go, as long as you are within the jurisdiction of the six departments, I will ensure that you rise to the top..."

As soon as he said this, everyone was shocked. They didn't expect that this dandy second ancestor who only knew about pleasure would actually have the intention to recruit people for the six tribes.

I rather underestimated him.

Bai Piaoyang also woke up.

Judging from the current situation and Zhuo Qingming's attitude, there is no hope of hiring the emotionally indifferent seventh-floor martial artist as a personal bodyguard.

But the silver medal for the writer seems pretty good too!

Although he has never climbed to the seventh floor, he is good at swordsmanship, and his fighting ability is beyond words.

In particular, this person seems to have a hard time using his brain. He seems to be easy to fool. With a little training, he should be able to become a talented person.

The only bad thing is that I like to show off.

Bai Piaoyang is a little unhappy about this, because he also likes to show off... There is no reason why a bodyguard can show off better than his master, right? It seems that he needs to pay more attention to it in the future.

Subconsciously, he had already decided that Leng Changkong was his bodyguard.

He is as confident as ever.

In his opinion, the promise of his good gay friend Jiang Ming's rapid rise to success is tempting, but to put it bluntly, it is just spreading the pie and has no reality.

And what he is going to throw out next is real money.

And the amount is too much to refuse.

It is said that the masters on the sixth floor look down on those yellow and white things. For example, Zhuo Qingming, I believe that even if he moved half of Bai Piaoyang's property, he would not take a second look.

But Leng Changkong gives people a different feeling... A person who likes to show off, no matter how advanced his cultivation is, is still a common person.

The common people cannot avoid being clichéd, and they cannot refuse vulgar money.

In addition, if he wants to continue to show off in the Qinhuai River, his swordsmanship on the sixth floor alone is not enough.

If a girl doesn't want to go to bed with you, you can't force her with a sword at her neck, right?

The last thing I rely on is this heavy amount of vulgar money!

Thinking of this, Bai Piaoyang first gave Jiang Ming an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, brother! I won this sixth-floor swordsman!"

After a moment, he took out a piece of paper directly from his arms.

That was no ordinary paper. It was stamped with the seal of the largest bank in the Imperial City of Wei Dynasty, Bai's Silver House. It was Bai Piaoyang's own property. An exaggerated number of eight hundred thousand taels was written on it with a stylus.

Eight hundred thousand taels! In exchange for a sixth-floor bodyguard who practiced swordsmanship, it seemed like a big deal, but in Bai Piaoyang's opinion, it was well worth the money.

He handed over the piece of paper with confidence, took a deep look at Leng Changkong, and said with a smile, "Follow me, these are all yours!"

There was no wind on the second floor, so the piece of paper quietly fell from the palm of my hand, and the number of eight hundred thousand taels was immediately perfectly exposed in front of everyone.

The prostitutes were trembling again, looking at Bai Piaoyang with a little worship and awe in their eyes.

Shenhao is Shenhao!

This eight hundred thousand taels is an astronomical figure to others, but to him it is just a piece of paper!

In comparison, Jiang Ming's empty promises indeed seem a bit weak.

Fortunately, the relationship between the two is very good, so Jiang Ming doesn't care much about it.

He knew that his good gay friend had always wanted a real expert as a bodyguard, so he followed the trend of adult beauty. Before Leng Changkong expressed his stance, he also smiled and said, "Piaoyang, a gentleman does not win the love of others. If you really like him, I

I won’t argue with you anymore…”

"Then I'll be disrespectful, haha..."

Bai Piaoyang was not polite, everyone was so familiar with each other, there was no point in talking too much.

He was laughing to himself, waiting for Leng Changkong to respectfully accept his 800,000 taels, but suddenly he found that his palm was empty, and the piece of paper slid down strangely. When it fell to the ground, he could clearly see that there was an extra line in the middle of the paper.

trace.

If he saw it correctly, it should be a sword mark.

It happened to land on the seal of Bai's silver number, neatly dividing the red signature into two halves.

Bai Piaoyang's face fell at that moment.

For those who open a bank, a seal is like life. No matter whether it is a physical object or a seal engraved on paper, no one can trample on it.

Not to mention the sword falling in half.

This is very unlucky and amounts to outright insult and contempt.

The atmosphere became more and more silent, and a sense of solemnity gradually arose.

Bai Piaoyang slowly raised his head and looked in front of him.

The guy named Li Sansi was sneering. He looked at each other and could clearly see the contempt and ridicule in the other person's eyes.
To be continued...