Three Kingdoms: Jiangdong is no longer a rat

Chapter 241 Bai Suzhen and Xiaoqing
As soon as Zu Yu finished speaking, a commotion broke out in the room.

Most people cast sympathetic glances at Wei Feng, while harboring resentment towards Zu Yu.

Zu Yu was illiterate, rude, and often caused trouble at poetry gatherings, showing off his power. He also used martial arts competitions as a pretext to retaliate against those who offended him, which had long since made him disliked by everyone.

Unfortunately, this person was born into a privileged family, with a powerful father backing him up. Although the scholars were dissatisfied, they dared not speak out.

“Since Lord Zu is fighting me bare-handed, I, Wei, shall naturally respond with my fists and feet.”

Wei Feng's face turned red. He gritted his teeth, swung his arm violently, and threw the longsword back to Li Xun.

He knew the consequences of doing so, but his pride made him make the decision without hesitation.

Zu Lang had originally intended to seize the sword first and then defeat the man to show off his power. Now that his plan had failed, a layer of ferocity appeared on his face, and he sneered, "Since you don't know what's good for you, then don't blame me."

He suddenly swayed, closing in on Wei Feng, and his right fist, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound, struck fiercely at Wei Feng's shoulder.

Wei Feng hurriedly raised his arm to block, but saw Zu Lang's fist suddenly change, turning into a claw, his five fingers like iron hooks gripping his wrist and twisting it sharply.

Wei Feng groaned, his entire right arm suddenly feeling sore, numb, and weak.

Before he could catch his breath, Zulang's left leg swept out like a viper's tongue, striking him squarely behind the knee.

The cracking sound of dislocated joints was clearly audible. Wei Feng staggered and fell to the ground, large beads of sweat rolling down his pale face.

A gasp rippled through the crowd. Those familiar with Wei Feng, though knowing he was skilled in swordsmanship but not in hand-to-hand combat, hadn't expected him to be defeated so quickly.

Zu Lang looked down at Wei Feng with a cruel smile on his lips, his shoe pressing down on Wei Feng's trembling fingers, gradually increasing the pressure.

As he stomped his feet, he arrogantly surveyed his surroundings. His gaze inadvertently met Yan Yi's, who was watching the battle, and he was immediately taken aback.

He sensed a warning in the other person's deep and cold gaze. Those eyes, which had been calm, now seemed to conceal a sharp edge, cutting through his heart and sending chills down his spine.

Zu Lang was about to kick out instinctively when a clear shout pierced the air: "Release Wei Feng, and I'll spar with you."

A young man in his early twenties walked into the arena.

The young man was tall and slender with broad shoulders and a wide back, giving off an imposing and dignified aura. He had originally been wearing a dark green fur robe, but he had taken it off, revealing the pleats of his trousers and the muscular physique beneath.

"Zhu Huan, I advise you not to meddle in other people's business!" Zu Yu exclaimed in surprise and anger, his eyes showing both fear and surprise.

Zhu Huan was a core member of the Zhu clan of Wu County, and his father, Zhu Lin, served under Xu Gong. Given the complex relationships in Jiangdong at the time, the Zhu clan and Zu Lang were in the same camp. Therefore, in Zu Yu's previous martial arts contests, Zhu Huan had never stood up to oppose Zu Yu, but today, for some reason, he was acting out of character.

"Take your weapons." Zhu Huan turned his head and glanced in the direction where Bu Lianshi was, his gaze gradually shifting from hesitation to determination. He merely smiled faintly at Zu Yu's apparent displeasure.

Zu Yu followed his gaze and suddenly understood. He muttered "good" three times, then stormed towards the weapon rack. After a moment's hesitation, he picked up a halberd.

The halberd is a heavy weapon up to ten feet long. It is shaped like a fork, with a sharp blade in the middle resembling a spearhead, called the 'central fork tip'. Two prongs branch off from the sides, curving upwards into a crescent shape. Below is the halberd handle, which is six to seven feet long.

This weapon can only be used by people with great strength.

Zu Yu knew that Zhu Huan's swordsmanship was exceptional, and that he would be no match for him if he used a sword. Only by using a halberd to counter the sword could he have a chance of winning.

Zhu Huan remained calm and composed as he walked to the weapon rack, reaching for a long spear. Halfway there, he stopped and took a ring-pommel sword instead.

Zu Yu was overjoyed at the sight. As long as Zhu Huan did not use a long-handled weapon, everything would be fine.

Zhu Huan raised his ring-handled sword, swung it twice in the air to test its weight. He then walked back to the center of the arena, sword held horizontally in his hand, and silently met Zhu Huan's gaze.

The two stood facing each other, several meters apart, and an aura of killing intent swept across the entire area.

The halberd and the sword are weapons used only on the battlefield and are rarely seen in duels. The onlookers immediately sensed the danger and retreated dozens of steps, giving the two enough space to fight.

call out!
After a brief stalemate, Zhu Huan broke the silence first. He stomped his foot on the ground, reversed the handle of his sword, and charged towards Zu Yu with incredible speed, like an arrow released from a bow.

An inch longer, an inch stronger; an inch shorter, an inch more dangerous. This is common sense among martial artists; he must close the distance quickly to pose a threat to Zu Yu.

"court death!"

Zu Yu roared and suddenly sprang into action! The sharp edge of his trident pierced the air, its cold light aimed straight for Zhu Huan's throat.

Zhu Huan slightly turned his body, gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, and with a flash of snow-white light, slashed horizontally at the shaft of the halberd.

Clang!
The clang of metal rang out, sparks flew, and the two men passed each other, leaving two inch-deep dents in the grass beneath their feet.

The onlookers watched with extreme tension, barely daring to breathe.

Zu Yu grinned maliciously, and the momentum of his halberd suddenly changed, sweeping across the army, the blade wind whistling as it enveloped Zhu Huan.

Instead of retreating, Zhu Huan advanced, his blade veering off course as he moved like a dragon, cutting into the blind spot of the halberd's shadow, his blade aimed directly at Zu Yu's wrist.

Zu Yu suddenly retreated, his halberd swirling to parry, but his opponent's blade suddenly shifted, the ring-pommel sword drawing a sharp arc.

With a crisp tearing sound, Zu Yu's clothes were instantly ripped open by the blade, revealing a gash from which blood seeped out, staining his clothes red.

The onlookers looked at each other in horror. This was no martial arts competition; it was clearly a fight to the death.

Zu Yu glanced down at the knife wound on his shoulder, his eyes flashing with ferocity. He suddenly swung his halberd wildly, the force of which was unparalleled. Zhu Huan, however, moved like a willow catkin in the wind, his blade following his body, deftly deflecting each strike with skillful force.

After twenty moves, Zu Yu's breathing became heavier, and although his halberd was fierce, he could not touch the hem of Zhu Huan's clothes.

Suddenly, Zhu Huan's blade moved with lightning speed! The ring-pommel sword transformed into a silver rainbow, piercing straight at the joint of Zu Yu's halberd.

clang!
The sharp crack was deafening, and Zu Yu's hand went numb as the blade was deflected. Before he could recover, Zhu Huan had already spun around and closed in, the back of his blade slamming heavily into his chest.

boom!
Zu Yu staggered back several steps, his face ashen.

clap clap!

Yan Yi clapped his hands and gave Zhu Huan an approving look: "Excellent swordsmanship!"

Zhu Huan truly deserves to be called a fierce general on par with Xu Sheng. His skill in fighting with a sword against a halberd, as well as his courage, are both top-notch. Judging from the strategies he displayed in the duel, he lives up to the description of "aggressive as fire, immovable as a mountain," indicating that he is quite knowledgeable in military strategy.

However, this person is arrogant and dislikes being driven by others, and his family is dependent on Xu Gong, making him difficult to recruit.

However, now that he's come to Qiantang, he can forget about returning to Wu County. Once I've pacified Wu County, this man will naturally surrender.

Yan Yi's gaze toward Zhu Huan was full of profound meaning.

Ignoring Zu Yu's angry glare and the surrounding applause, Zhu Huan eagerly looked towards Bu Lianshi. Ever since their first encounter, he had been drinking the bitter wine of unrequited love. Ignoring the disappointed looks of his clansmen and the perilous situation, he had chased her all the way to Qiantang. He had believed that sincerity would move mountains, and that his deep affection would surely touch her heart. Unexpectedly, he learned from Bu Lianshi's mother that the Bu and Quan families were doing everything they could to bring Yan and Bu together.

When Zhu Huan heard this news, he felt as if he had been struck by lightning.

Previously, his competitors for the position of Step Master were only people like Zhang Cheng and Zu Yu, who didn't pose a significant threat to him. But now, with Yan Yi suddenly joining his ranks, things have changed dramatically. It's like a calm pond suddenly having a shark enter, its jaws wide open, ready to snatch its prey.

As a man himself, Zhu Huan knew all too well how terrifying this shark was. Now that this shark had openly appeared beside Bu Lianshi, how could he not be extremely anxious?
Driven by a strong sense of crisis, Zhu Huan was willing to offend Zu Yu and launch the most ferocious offensive against his target, even if it meant stepping over Zu Yu's corpse.

His heart pounded, and he walked towards Bu Lianshi as if he were walking on clouds.

But after taking only two steps, he froze, his eyes widened, his face turned pale, and his heart shattered into countless pieces.

The goddess in my heart was tilting her head slightly, her porcelain-white neckline glowing like glaze in the light, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks, her eyes gazing at Yan Yi with tenderness, even her eyelashes trembling with shyness, as if telling the tenderness in her heart.

Do not!
Zhu Huan let out a heart-wrenching scream from the bottom of his heart, took two steps back in disbelief, and everything around him seemed to dim.

Yan Yi stared at his fascinating changes in expression, feeling utterly bewildered, and thought to himself that this man was probably a lunatic.

He followed Zhu Huan's gaze and immediately understood. He couldn't help but sigh inwardly, "Beauty is a curse; the ancients were right."

However, Bu Lianshi held a higher place in his heart than Zhu Huan at this moment, and he didn't care about Zhu Huan's feelings at all.

Having reached his current position, he has come to some realizations. Some talents are not something to be begged for, but rather something forced upon us by circumstances. Zhu Huan is not worth sacrificing for.

Zhu Huan, like a wounded wild beast, looked at Yan Yi with heavy breaths.

The other person's gaze was both gentle and cold, like an all-powerful deity looking down upon him, a mere mortal.

Zhu Huan was so distracted that his ring-handled sword fell to the ground with a thud.

Several friends from Wu County thought he had suffered a hidden injury during the competition, so they quickly went over and helped him to the side.

After this little incident, the atmosphere in the room became more somber, no longer as lively as before.

Li Xun coughed lightly and suggested, "Now that the martial arts competition is over, we should drink wine and compose poems to make the most of the beautiful scenery of West Lake."

The proposal was quickly approved, with everyone nodding in agreement. One of them asked, "In what form should we compose the poem? Pitch-pot, drinking games, or the winding stream party?"

Li Xun smiled and bowed to Yan Yi, saying, "Now that Your Excellency has graced us with your presence, we should respectfully request Your Excellency's decision. What are your thoughts, everyone?"

Everyone responded in unison.

Yan Yi had no interest in composing poetry, and the plagiarism of later poems made him feel a slight sense of guilt. He casually said, "Let Zhang Jun decide this matter."

Zhang Cheng was slightly taken aback, secretly observing his expression. Seeing that he was not pretending to refuse, he said, "Since we are enjoying the scenery by the lake, let's drink and compose poems in the style of floating wine cups on a winding stream."

His father's influence was already immense, and he held a high position among young scholars, with no one raising any objections.

"What should the topic be?" a scholar asked.

Zhang Cheng turned his gaze to Bu Lianshi: "Lianshi, what topic do you prefer?"

Bu Lianshi's eyes sparkled as she gazed at the shimmering lake: "A sunny lake is not as good as a rainy lake, a rainy lake is not as good as a moonlit lake, and a moonlit lake is not as good as a snowy lake. Many of you here are visiting West Lake for the first time, so let's use West Lake as the theme."

The scholars applauded and cheered.

Upon hearing this, several attendants hurriedly ran to a nearby tent and took out five or six cypress branches, each about ten feet long.

The wooden strips had mortise and tenon joints cut into them. Several people quickly and skillfully fitted the joints together and then tightened them layer by layer with hemp rope soaked in tung oil. In a short while, they had made a wooden pole that was five or six zhang long.

This wooden pole is the tool used for the "winding stream party".

The so-called "winding stream party" refers to setting up seats on both sides of a scenic stream or canal for participants to sit on. Flat, floating wine cups are then placed upstream and allowed to drift downstream. Whoever's cup stops in front of them must pick it up, drink the wine, and compose a poem on the spot.

If the poem does not meet the requirements or is not completed within the allotted time, a penalty of drinking wine will be imposed. After the poem is completed, someone will record it, and it will be compiled into a collection later, called the 'Xi Tie'.

However, West Lake is vast, and the area along the lake is full of silt, which is obviously not suitable for sitting. Therefore, a wooden pole is used to stop the wine cups.

After the attendants made the wooden poles, they marked them one by one with wolf-hair brushes. Then they carried the poles to the lakeside, chose a place where the current was relatively slow, and stretched the poles out into the lake.

Before long, a small, palm-sized paulownia wood wine cup drifted leisurely from upstream, gently swirling with the ripples. When it reached the long pole, the rim of the cup touched the pole with a soft thud, and it came to a stop precisely between two knots in the rope.

One of the attendants stared intently at the position of the knot, then turned around and shouted, "The winner is Yu Zhangcheng Lecheng Jun!"

"I never expected this prize to fall on me." Cheng Le sighed lightly, feigning sorrow, which drew a chorus of good-natured laughter. He straightened his clothes, stood up, walked to the center of the field, and gazed at the distant lake, his brows slightly furrowed.

Those around him began timing him. After a long while, Li Xun reminded him, "Seven quarters left!"

Cheng Le was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan, stammering, "The cassia oars divide the stars, the green robes rest on the dewy peaks."

"Time's up!" a scholar staring at the water clock shouted gloatingly.

Cheng Le smiled wryly, picked up a full glass of wine, and drank it all in one gulp.

The scholars applauded and cheered, and many were amused by his comical winking and grimacing. One of them joked, "Master Cheng, in my opinion, you are clearly just craving this cup of wine and deliberately didn't recite the second half of the line."

The atmosphere at the table immediately became lively and cheerful.

Subsequently, scholars rose one after another, some composing poems, others drinking wine.

After more than ten rounds, the wine cup on the lake surface came to a stop at the knot representing sternness.

The scholars looked at each other, exchanging glances.

We've only heard that you're good at leading troops, but we've never heard that you're good at poetry. So let's turn a blind eye and let you off the hook when it's time to let you off the hook.

Only Bu Lianshi, who had witnessed Yan Yi's poetic talent, had a different kind of brilliance in his eyes and was full of confidence in him.

Under the intense gazes of everyone, Yan Yi rose with some distress, cupped his hands, and said, "I am of limited talent and learning. If I were to force myself to compose a poem, I fear I would offend the refined tastes of this gathering. Since everyone is in such high spirits, how about I tell you an old story about West Lake to add to the enjoyment?"

The scholars exchanged knowing smiles, tacitly overlooking this harmless transgression, and clapped in agreement.

Bu Lianshi's eyes darted around, assuming Yan Yi was hiding his true abilities. She looked at him, her gaze a mix of reproach and annoyance, yet also a touch of coquettishness. Suddenly, she thought that listening to stories was quite interesting, and a faint smile quietly bloomed on her lips.

Yan Yi cleared his throat, thinking that this was a good opportunity to promote West Lake and add another layer of cultural significance to Qiantang City. He said loudly, "It is said that during the time of the progenitor of humankind, there was a white snake who had cultivated for a thousand years on the shore of West Lake, named Bai Suzhen, and a little green snake named Xiaoqing."

(End of this chapter)