eurekapd Chapter 551 I Like Women
Chapter 551 I Like Women
Xu Longxiang stood up, straightened his dark black python robe, and strode to the edge of the platform.
His gaze swept across the entire training ground, over the crowd still immersed in the shock of what had just happened, and finally landed on the figure who was slowly walking down from the arena, his gray robes fluttering gently in the autumn wind.
He took a deep breath, his voice louder and more solemn than ever before: "Gentlemen—I hereby announce that the winner of this martial arts tournament is Zhao San of the Qingfeng Sword Sect!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the tense crowd seemed to release a dam, finally letting out a long-held sigh of relief.
"It's finally been announced... I thought he was going to have to wait a while longer."
"First place is well-deserved, nothing more to say."
"Even Bai Yujing, who is so strong, lost to him, let alone the others."
"The Qingfeng Sword Sect... they're really going to become famous now. Who had ever heard of this sect before?"
"That Zhao San doesn't look very old, how come he has such cultivation?"
"How can we possibly understand the actions of a master?"
Various voices rose and fell among the crowd, but no one questioned the fairness of the result.
Xu Longxiang raised his hand, signaling his attendants to step forward.
Two soldiers in Northern Army uniforms carried a heavy iron box up to the platform. When the lid was lifted, sunlight streamed in, reflecting a dazzling golden light—gold ingots, neatly stacked, each a standard official-cast ingot worth fifty taels, and stamped with the seal of the Northern Royal Palace.
There was also a long box made of sandalwood next to it, and a sword lay inside.
The scabbard is dark green and inlaid with a row of tiny lapis lazuli stones. The hilt is wrapped with intricate cloud patterns made of silver wire. When the sword is drawn, it gleams like flowing water in the sunlight.
Xu Longxiang personally took the sword out of the box, walked down the high platform, crossed the open space between the stands and the arena, and came to Qin Mu.
He held the sword horizontally between his hands, bowed slightly, and said humbly, "Senior, this is one of the prizes of this martial arts tournament—the 'Autumn Water Sword,' which is said to have been made by a master swordsmith of the previous dynasty. Ten thousand taels of gold have already been prepared in the back tent. There is also a list of treasured martial arts techniques from the Northern Kingdom's Palace, which will be delivered to you later."
His voice lowered slightly, carrying a deliberately suppressed respect, as if afraid that speaking too loudly would disturb something.
The Autumn Water Sword lay quietly in his palm, its patterns flowing slowly in the sunlight.
Qin Mu reached out and took the sword, examined it for a moment, and then casually handed it to Lin Qingshi, who had somehow gotten close behind him: "Take it."
Lin Qingshi hurriedly caught the sword, almost dropping it. He held it in his arms, stunned for a while, before belatedly widening his eyes and exclaiming, "Brother Zhao, this...this is too precious!"
Qin Mu didn't turn around to look at him, but simply smiled at Xu Longxiang, a faint smile: "You're too kind, Prince Xu."
Xu Longxiang's gaze lingered on Qin Mu's face for a moment, his eyes filled with scrutiny.
He sized up the gray-clad man before him.
She was tall and slender, with an ordinary face and plain features; the only thing that made her stand out was her eyes.
Those eyes were calm, so calm that it didn't seem like the look one would expect from someone who had just won the title of the world's number one.
He didn't look any further, but simply turned to the side and gestured for them to speak privately: "Senior, may I have a word with you in private?"
Qin Mu glanced at him, then at Chen Ruoyao, who was standing on the high platform and secretly looking over through her mask. His smile deepened. "Okay."
The tents at the edge of the training ground have been cleared out.
The clutter that had been piled up there was moved away, the wooden table and chairs were rearranged, and a new layer of felt was laid on the floor.
Sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the tent roof, casting long, thin streaks of light on the felt, like scattered golden threads.
Xu Longxiang personally poured Qin Mu a cup of tea.
His movements were somewhat awkward, as if he were doing something he wasn't very familiar with, but that awkwardness was tinged with an unprecedented seriousness.
He pushed the teacup in front of Qin Mu and then sat down opposite him.
His posture was more relaxed than before, but his back was still straight, and his voice was lower: "Senior's swordsmanship... I saw it clearly on the stage just now. To be honest, I have never seen such a sword in my entire life."
He did not refer to himself as "Xu Mou," but rather as "this king."
But the respect in that voice was genuine.
Qin Mu picked up the teacup but didn't drink it; he simply held it in his palm and said, "Your Highness, you flatter me. I only won by a narrow margin."
Xu Longxiang shook his head, a very light movement, yet carrying an undeniable certainty: "Senior, there's no need for such modesty. Although my cultivation is not high, I still have some discernment. The strength you just displayed is far beyond the reach of ordinary martial artists. Even with Bai Yujing's sword strike—I could tell that you didn't use your full strength."
He paused, as if considering what to say next.
After a moment, he crossed his hands on the table, leaned forward slightly, and looked directly into Qin Mu's eyes: "Senior, I have a request."
Qin Mu didn't reply, he just looked at him and waited.
Xu Longxiang took a deep breath: "I would like to ask you to stay in the Northern Territory and serve as my advisor. The conditions—name them."
When those four words landed, the air inside the tent seemed to be compressed by something.
It was an undisguised, almost desperate sincerity.
"Drive as you please"—these three words represent the highest promise Xu Longxiang can make.
But Qin Mu didn't say anything.
He still held the teacup, a faint smile on his face, showing neither attraction nor rejection.
Xu Longxiang leaned forward again: "Gold, treasures, cultivation techniques, status—as long as you ask, Senior, I will not be stingy with anything the Northern Border Royal Palace can offer."
He lowered his voice slightly as if to say something more private: "In fact—if you wish to have a place in the court, I can certainly do it."
Qin Mu's gaze finally shifted.
He put down his teacup, leaned back in his chair, and looked at Xu Longxiang as if he were looking at something interesting.
He remained silent for a moment before speaking, his voice flat: "Prince Xu, you don't even know my background, yet you dare to offer such conditions?"
Xu Longxiang paused, his eyes flickered, then he smiled frankly: "I truly do not know your background, senior. But I do know one thing—a person like you would not appear at the martial arts tournament in the Northern Territory without a reason. Since you have come, it means you have something you desire. I am not sure what it is, but I am willing to hear what you have to say."
He spoke with extreme honesty, as if clearly telling the other person—I don't know what you want, but I'm willing to give you what you want.
Qin Mu looked at his sincere expression, then glanced at the gap in the tent flap—there was a piece of moon-white clothing there, belonging to Chen Ruoyao.
She knew he was there, but dared not come in. She could only stand outside and peek inside through the gap in the curtain.
The smile on Qin Mu's lips deepened even further.
He withdrew his gaze and fixed it on Xu Longxiang's face again: "Prince Xu, have you ever considered that perhaps what I want is something you cannot give me?"
Xu Longxiang's gaze sharpened slightly.
The pause was brief, like a stone lingering for a moment before falling into the water.
He tapped his fingers lightly on the edge of the table, his voice still steady: "Senior, why don't you tell me first? Perhaps I can grant it."
Qin Mu did not answer directly, but simply picked up the teacup, took a small sip, and then put it down.
Looking into Xu Longxiang's eager and sincere eyes, he finally smiled and said, "Okay, I'll think about it."
He neither agreed nor refused.
He gave only an ambiguous response, like a line laid out on the riverbank, neither taut nor loose.
Xu Longxiang did not show any dissatisfaction upon hearing this.
He even breathed a slight sigh of relief, as if a stone that had been hanging in the air for a long time had finally been lifted to the ground: "Alright. Senior, take your time to consider it. I'm not in a hurry."
Outside the tent, Chen Ruoyao withdrew her gaze, turned around, leaned against the tent's support, and tilted her head slightly to look at the sky. Her eyes, hidden behind her mask, curved into a pair of very shallow crescent moons.
She couldn't laugh out loud, but the smile was already overflowing from the corners of her eyes.
The Northern Lord, who had just been desperately trying to win over the gray-clad man in the tent, the one who had staked his entire fortune, was now sitting opposite him, saying in the most solemn tone, "Senior, please stay in the Northern Territory."
He had no idea that the person sitting in front of him was the very person he had always wanted to overthrow.
She recalled what Xu Longxiang had said in the tent earlier—"Gold, treasures, martial arts techniques, status, as long as you ask, senior"—every word felt like banging her head against an invisible wall.
She lowered her head, covered her mouth with her sleeve, her shoulders trembled slightly, but she quickly calmed down.
She straightened up, adjusted her robes, and walked away.
Inside the tent, Qin Mu was still sitting there, holding a cup of tea that had gone slightly cold. He glanced at Xu Longxiang and smiled, "Your Highness, I have received your sincerity. I've been thinking about it and have decided to take a woman."
The air inside the tent seemed to have been suddenly sucked away by something.
Qin Mu's words landed on the felt mat without splashing, but like a stone thrown into a deep pool, they silently sank to the bottom.
The sounds of flags fluttering in the autumn wind outside the tent, and the low murmurs of conversations among the crowds in the distance, were all shut out from this small space.
Xu Longxiang's finger stopped on the edge of the table.
His composed and strategic demeanor just now was like a piece of paper wrinkled by the wind, with a crack so fine it was almost invisible.
He looked at Qin Mu without saying a word.
His gaze lingered on Qin Mu's face for a few moments, as if trying to confirm whether he had misheard something.
But Qin Mu's expression didn't change at all.
That faint smile still lingered on his lips, like a chess piece casually placed on the corner of a table, quietly waiting for the next move.
He held the teacup with a relaxed posture, like a chess player waiting for someone to finish a game and not in a hurry to leave.