Chapter Forty-Seven: Feng Qiwei Takes the Stage

At that moment, Master Liu’s expression changed instantly—he immediately saw through Wanyü the Invincible’s plot. Zhao Chengming had already told him about the incident at his own jewelry store that very day. Coupled with everything Wanyü the Invincible had just done, Master Liu now understood that the relationship between Minister Qian and Wanyü the Invincible was far closer than he had imagined.

What puzzled him, however, was why Minister Qian was so intent on helping a foreigner. Zhao Chengming quickly sought instructions from Master Liu on whether to summon Zhang Desen, but Master Liu decided to wait a little longer.

Meanwhile, Zhao Xinglong was taken aback as well. He had also seen the imposing Shaoliba from the Three Heights, sensing his formidable strength—a force not easily dealt with. Should Shaoliba claim first place, the Great Prosperity Kingdom would not only lose face but also suffer the humiliation of failing to protect its own people. How could the nation’s honor be preserved?

Moreover, his own family was present. If he refused to accept the challenge, wouldn’t that be admitting fear of the men from the Ancient Liao Kingdom? And that, in his own palace! Furious at the predicament, he cursed Minister Qian inwardly for meddling.

At this moment, Minister Qian spoke again: “In truth, this is an opportunity to demonstrate the martial prowess of our Great Prosperity Kingdom—not just anyone may challenge us.”

In that instant, Zhao Xinglong realized that matters had come to a head. There was no choice but to fight; to shrink from battle now would only bring greater disgrace before the rulers of other nations. Thus he declared, “Let the sword win the beauty! Tonight’s battle in the palace will be sung for ages. As Minister Qian proposes, the victor may freely choose ten unmarried women present as companions.”

With the emperor’s decree, the affair was settled.

Feng Qiwei then strode out with his sword, calling loudly to the Ancient Liao Kingdom’s delegation, “Feng Qiwei of Great Prosperity requests instruction from the foremost warrior of the Ancient Liao Kingdom.”

But Shaoliba merely glanced at him with scorn and retorted, “You’re barely grown! At most, you’re twenty. Return when you’ve matured. If I’m in a good mood, perhaps I’ll take you as a slave—then you’ll have wind and rain at your beck and call.”

At this, the men of the Ancient Liao Kingdom burst into laughter. Furious, Feng Qiwei shot back, “Hmph! Since I was thirteen, I’ve roamed and trained at my father’s side. I’ve yet to meet a truly worthy opponent. If you, the so-called champion of the Ancient Liao Kingdom, are afraid, just admit your fault and apologize sincerely—no need to dress up your cowardice with grand excuses.”

Shaoliba was enraged, but suddenly an idea flashed through his mind. He turned to his most trusted lieutenant, Shaoqi. “Shaoqi, go amuse yourself with this greenhorn. Teach him a lesson he won’t forget.”

With that, Shaoliba discreetly gestured to kill, and Shaoqi immediately accepted the order, arming himself with his customary twin axes to face Feng Qiwei.

In truth, Shaoqi had grown restless, eager to display his might. With a thunderous shout, he brandished both axes in a relentless assault, his blows surging like giant waves—truly the onslaught of an invincible warrior.

This display left the audience breathless. Even Feng Yucai, most familiar with his son’s abilities, grew anxious. The women present clutched their chests or covered their mouths, all of them tense with worry.

Yet Feng Qiwei showed no fear. His sword flashed like lightning, agile as a serpent striking from its lair, swift and stable as wind sweeping away the clouds. Each thrust, parry, chop, or stab targeted his opponent’s weaknesses, and his footwork—light as a dance—was a marvel of elegance and precision. He answered each attack with hard counterattacks.

The clash of sword and axe echoed continuously. Feng Qiwei pressed and retreated with great agility, granting Shaoqi no advantage.

Wanyü the Invincible and Shaoliba turned pale with shock. Who would have thought that the Great Prosperity Kingdom could so casually send forth a man who could hold his own against Shaoqi—the second greatest warrior of the Ancient Liao Kingdom?

Even more astonishing was that Feng Qiwei’s strength seemed to match, if not surpass, Shaoqi’s. This revelation left Wanyü the Invincible and Shaoliba utterly astounded.

By now, Shaoqi’s earlier momentum had completely dissipated. His heavy axes quickly sapped his strength, and as his movements slowed, Feng Qiwei’s swordlight blazed brighter, forcing Shaoqi back two steps.

Humiliated, Shaoqi launched a desperate, furious attack. But Feng Qiwei laughed aloud, darted forward, and with a deft maneuver, struck the incoming axe at his left temple with the hilt of his sword, deflecting it just in time. He ducked beneath the other axe and, with a flicker of lightning, drove the tip of his blade at Shaoqi’s chest.

Panic-stricken, Shaoqi flung both axes aside and retreated hastily. Feng Qiwei sheathed his sword and watched Shaoqi coldly.

From the start, the hall had been utterly silent. All eyes now focused on Shaoqi, knowing he was gravely injured but uncertain if his life was in danger.

Shaoqi staggered back two more steps before a heart-wrenching scream burst from his lips and he collapsed to the ground.

Wanyü the Invincible and Shaoliba leapt to their feet. Shaoliba shouted, “Shaoqi!” The Ancient Liao men rushed over, finding Shaoqi sprawled on the floor, blood gushing from his chest and abdomen.

Meanwhile, Feng Qiwei stood calmly amid the congratulations of his countrymen. Wanyü the Invincible and Shaoliba had already hurried over to where Shaoqi lay.

Suddenly, Shaoliba let out an earth-shattering roar, rose beside Shaoqi, and pointed at Feng Qiwei. “Feng Qiwei! You’ve slain my most trusted lieutenant. I, Shaoliba, will make you pay a thousandfold for this!”

Most of the Great Prosperity Kingdom’s men looked on with disdain, thinking little of Shaoliba’s bluster when, just moments before, he had provoked the conflict himself.

Wanyü the Invincible drew Shaoliba aside and spoke to him in hurried whispers, while Shaoqi’s body was carried out by the Ancient Liao men through a back door, leaving a trail of blood that shocked all who saw it. Zhao Xinglong immediately ordered the area cleaned.

The festive atmosphere was gone, but no one blamed Feng Qiwei, for this was the result of Wanyü the Invincible and Shaoliba’s own machinations. Everyone knew the real drama was yet to come.

Shortly after, Wanyü the Invincible finished his counsel with Shaoliba. Soon, Shaoliba turned to Feng Qiwei and said,

“Master Feng, do you need a rest? I believe it’s our turn now. If you feel you’ve expended too much energy, I don’t mind waiting a bit longer.”

Feng Qiwei looked at the nearly three-meter-tall, powerfully built Shaoliba. To say he felt no pressure would be a lie. Even his father, General Feng Yucai, was about to call him back to rest. But Feng Qiwei spoke first, “No need at all. I haven’t even married yet! Honestly, I should thank you men of the Ancient Liao Kingdom for this chance to win fame and a bride. You may be taller than most, but I’ll soon help adjust your height so you fit in with the rest of us.”

Hearing this, Shaoliba flew into a rage, bellowed, and drew his sword, charging at Feng Qiwei.

Feng Qiwei responded in kind, both men shouting as they launched themselves into a fierce assault.

Shaoliba’s swordplay was swift as the wind and forceful, each swing like a mountain descending. Almost immediately, Feng Qiwei was pressed into a defensive posture.

No one had expected that Shaoliba’s position as the Ancient Liao Kingdom’s greatest warrior rested not only on brute strength but also on astonishing swordsmanship. It was said his skill with other weapons, such as the saber, was equally formidable. The people of the Great Prosperity Kingdom grew anxious for Feng Qiwei.

The two sides watched in tense silence, the atmosphere taut as a drawn bow.

On the field, Feng Qiwei was taken aback. He had thought Shaoliba’s reputation was due merely to his height and strength, and that agile swordplay would reveal an opening to exploit. Yet his opponent’s technique was unexpectedly exquisite.

But to display weakness in a duel was fatal. Feng Qiwei redoubled his efforts, wielding his sword with greater finesse, seeking a swift victory.

At the same time, General Feng Yucai was nearly beside himself with worry for his son, debating whether to call off the fight and send another in his place.

But in that moment of hesitation, the outcome was decided. Feng Qiwei, his stamina waning, faltered for a split second. Shaoliba’s sword struck his shoulder with a crack of breaking bone. Feng Qiwei tumbled aside, rising with his face drenched in cold sweat from the pain.

Had he not been wearing specially crafted armor, his right arm might have been severed entirely. Yet, as a seasoned commander, his unyielding will drove him to stand, meeting his foe’s gaze.

Now, Shaoliba addressed Emperor Zhao Xinglong, “Your Majesty of the Great Prosperity Kingdom, I have won. May I now claim my prize?”

For a moment, Zhao Xinglong’s face burned with anger—yet there was nothing he could do.