"Does it hurt a lot? Beg me, maybe if Iām in a good mood, Iāll let you go." Mo Yanhongās foot turned several times on Mu Chengās shoulder as he continued to sneer.
"Mo Yanhong, what skills do you have if you bully the few with the many? Have a duel with me if you dare." Despite the excruciating pain, Mu Cheng refused to beg for mercy, glaring at Mo Yanhong.
Seeing Mu Cheng remain so defiant without begging for mercy and even challenging him, Mo Yanhong felt very humiliated.
"What, you donāt dare to take my challenge, even when I am injured like this? Coward!" Mu Cheng spat out a mouthful of blood and cursed loudly.
Not far away, Wu Qiuyun struggled to open his eyes, looking at the stubborn-faced Mu Cheng with endless feelings. For the current Mu Cheng, who had no strength left to challenge anyone, not to mention Mo Yanhong, even a child could easily kill him with a sword.
He knew that Mu Cheng was provoking Mo Yanhong only to divert his attention and buy some time for Mu Hanyan.
Mu Cheng himself probably knew that Mo Yanhong, in a fit of rage, could kill him on the spot, but he didnāt hesitate; in his eyes, there was even a desire for death.
If it were before, Wu Qiuyun would have thought that Mu Cheng was seeking death because he was hit too hard by Fourth Miss Zhaoās death, but after these days, he could tell that Mu Cheng had walked out of the shadows. His sole purpose was to buy time for Mu Hanyan.
Realizing the true intent behind Mu Chengās actions, Wu Qiuyun too felt his blood boil.
"Fine, fine, since you are courting death, Iāll oblige you. Pick up your sword; Iāll give you a fair fight," Mo Yanhong almost got splashed with Mu Chengās blood, his face turning purple with rage as he spoke fiercely.
Hearing his words about a āfair fight,ā everyone couldnāt help showing disdain. After all, the man was seriously injured, and yet he had the audacity to talk about fairness.
Mu Cheng didnāt say anything, but he staggered to his feet, then bent over with difficulty to pick up his longsword.
"Come, let me see just how much weight the precious son of the Mu Family Patriarch holds," Mu Cheng said.
It was evident that Mu Cheng could no longer even stand up straight at this point, his torn clothes revealing numerous wounds, his skin split open and continuously oozing fresh blood. Yet, there was not a trace of fear in his eyes, only unwavering determination.
Everyone was profoundly shaken by this scene, and a dead silence fell around them.
Although they had no love for these noble families and didnāt care who was right or wrong or who lived or died, merely watching as one might watch dogs fight, this scene made them involuntarily respect Mu Cheng.
What is a swordsman? Unyielding, fearless in death, ever-forward, never giving up ā that is what makes a true swordsman. Otherwise, no strength, however great, could match up to the title of swordsman!
...
In the distance, Jin Yuguang was getting anxious, his anxious and concerned gaze turning towards the still-composed Ye Lanfeng, "Sir, arenāt we going to help?" Having spent these days with Mu Cheng, Jin Yuguang had grown quite fond of this thick-skinned guy. Seeing Mu Chengās unyielding spirit moved him even more.
"Not yet..." Ye Lanfeng spoke softly, "This is their rite of passage." Trust Hanyan a bit more; she will show up. This last part, Ye Lanfeng left unsaid.
...
Mu Cheng was covered in blood, but his expression was resolute as ever.
Seeing the admiration in the eyes of the people around when they looked at Mu Cheng, Mo Yanhong was burning with rage.
He came today to humiliate Mu Hanyan and regain his reputation, not to boost Mu Chengās. Even a mere underling earning so much respect meant that Mu Hanyanās status in peopleās hearts had risen even higher. No, he had to crush this manās spirit quickly; otherwise, even if he managed to defeat Mu Hanyan with Dai Songlingās strength today, he still couldnāt restore his own face.