Late at night, in the palace, the young eunuchs stood vigil outside the palace, and they would inevitably talk about the gossip in the capital.
"Hey, have you heard that there seems to be an incredible person appearing in the martial arts competition!"
"I know about this. I heard that that man didn't even have any martial arts skills, so he defeated thirty-eight people."
"Yes, he is also wearing a silver mask. Do you think he is the master inside?"
"Don't talk nonsense!" The elderly eunuch tightly covered the mouths of the two young deputies, and glanced uneasily towards the dark hall, with lingering fear: "Don't you want your heads anymore?"
In the hall, the man leaning on the couch raised his eyes slightly, drank the red liquid in the cup, and said absently: "This martial arts competition is very lively?"
"Yes, Master." Shadow beamed with excitement: "I heard from people that a mysterious warrior appeared this year and has won thirty-eight games in a row."
After hearing this, the man's expression did not change at all. He stuck out the tip of his tongue, rolled the red juice from the corner of his mouth into his thin lips, and said unhurriedly: "Go prepare the car."
"Gah?" Shadow was dumbfounded, and it took him a while to realize: "Yes!"
To say he is not excited would be a lie. His master has not left the palace for four years and has not competed in martial arts for ten years.
This time, maybe we can see him take action...
Shadow disappeared with excitement on his face and went to prepare the carriage for leaving the palace.
The man stood up from the wooden couch, wearing a pure black fur cloak, which was low-key and luxurious, and mysterious and tinged with evil.
The man walked slowly, his long hair fluttering in the wind, and his long robe fell on the wooden floor of the palace, but it didn't seem to be stained with dust at all. The black robe made him feel ascetic as a priest.
Feeling that the evil spirit was concealed and restrained in the black robe, his eyelids were raised from bottom to top, and all the essence of the moonlight seemed to be concentrated in his half-closed eyes, which were not ordinary dark brown eyes.
, but a circle of pupils surrounds another circle of pupils, with amber marks densely covered... coldness, evil, indescribable!
A silver mask lined the side of his face like a knife, with slightly raised sleeves and wings. It was so cold that no one within a hundred meters dared to take even half a step closer.
Who else could have such a fairy-like charm, other than His Majesty Beiming Liancheng, the seventh prince of the current dynasty...
The next day, the weather was as good as ever.
Nangong Baiye was still dressed as yesterday, with no weapons in his hands and standing on the competition stage with fluttering clothes.
There was a flurry of discussion in the audience, one after another.
"Silver mask?"
"Isn't this the master from yesterday?"
"He wins again!"
"Oh my god, if I keep winning like this, won't I be able to fight all the way to the re-examination!"
Bang!
The bell rang, and the referee stood up from the wooden chair and announced loudly: "Contestant No. 5 wins and advances to the semi-finals!"
Contestant No. 5...
Nangong Baiye lowered his eyes and looked at the number on his clothes, curled his lips and smiled, three parts evil and seven parts handsome.
"This silver-faced man is indeed not simple." Qu Luo sat on the teahouse not one meter away, his eyes lowered with interest that he had not seen in a long time.
Behind him stood a group of people who were the judges for this re-examination, including Nangong Rui'er, Mo Yan from the Hei family, and the last martial arts champion... Murong Shaofeng!
He looked down at the silver-faced man in white clothes downstairs and frowned unconsciously.
Strange, why does he feel that that back is so familiar...