Chapter Seventy-Three: Rival Suitors Lined Up at the Door

Chapter Seventy-Three: Rivals Lined Up at the Door

“Well now! Isn’t that Second Master Xiao? What brings you here?” Leisurely reclining in a grand chair, Ye Feng spotted Xiao Chong approaching from afar and greeted him with a cheerful smile.

For reasons unknown, Ye Feng felt something was off the moment he saw Xiao Chong. Today, Xiao Chong seemed utterly dispirited, listless and downcast.

Taking the stool offered by Little Zhu, Xiao Chong slumped beside Ye Feng, his mood gloomy.

“Hey now… I’m not dead yet! Why do you show up looking like you’re mourning?” Noticing his unusual demeanor, Ye Feng poked him and muttered irritably.

Xiao Chong cast a plaintive glance at Ye Feng but remained silent.

“Well! Young Master Galao, where are you rushing off to in such a hurry?”

Before long, Sword Demon Galao also shuffled over, equally dispirited. Little Zhu hurriedly instructed someone to fetch another stool.

Little Zhu was quite familiar with these noble young men, friends of his own master. With no seat available, Galao simply crouched beside Liu Chuang, face full of misery and saying nothing.

Ye Feng grew increasingly perplexed. What was wrong with everyone today? Why did they all look as though they’d lost their fathers?

“Bro, you’re not… cooked as well, are you?” Noticing that Lie Kuang was approaching in the same lifeless manner, Ye Feng stammered in disbelief.

Meanwhile, Little Zhu, panting, brought out a grand chair only to find two already squatting beside it. He quickly set down the chair and ordered more to be fetched.

Soon, Ao Yun joined the others, looking just as dejected, and squatted down beside them.

“My old man wants me to marry early!” With more and more people gathering, Xiao Chong finally couldn’t hold it in. He shot Ye Feng a resentful look and spoke angrily.

Before Ye Feng could react, the others chimed in unison, “Me too!”

Ye Feng was stunned. Wasn’t this a good thing? On the Continent of Martial Souls, sixteen signified adulthood, and most boys and girls were married by then.

“They’re understandable, but Galao—aren’t you a bit old for this? Why do you look just as miserable?”

Galao glanced at the others, gave Ye Feng a meaningful look, sighed helplessly, and continued to stare blankly.

At last, Little Zhu, out of breath, managed to bring enough reclining chairs, lining them up in a neat row.

Seeing the young masters in such spirits, Little Zhu was puzzled. “Their families are so wealthy—do they go hungry? Why do they all look like this?”

With no one speaking, Ye Feng simply closed his eyes to rest.

Thus, a unique scene unfolded before the gates of the Ye Residence. Six noble sons sat in a row on grand chairs. Strangely, the seriously injured Young Lord Ye basked in the sun with a smile, while the others wore grim faces, silent and sullen.

Passersby looked on with peculiar expressions, muttering in their hearts.

After a while, chaos erupted on the distant street. Someone unusual was approaching.

To be precise, it wasn’t the person but his mount. He rode a pitch-black demon ox!

“Heh heh! I’m back!” Demon Slayer, carrying his trademark giant hammer, rode up to Ye Feng, grinning atop the ox.

The Ye family guards grew tense seeing him. The young lord was injured; what did Demon Slayer want?

“Bring another chair!” Ye Feng waved the Goldscale Guards away and turned to Little Zhu.

“I sent you to the Luoyan Mountains to investigate ‘Burrowing Rats,’ and you come back riding an ox?” Seeing Demon Slayer so cheerful, Ye Feng’s anger flared.

Demon Slayer slid off the ox, leaned on his hammer, and chuckled, “I caught dozens of Burrowing Rats, but this ox ate them all. I found it adorable, so I rode it back.”

Everyone rolled their eyes. No one could fathom Galao’s logic.

Ye Feng had sent Demon Slayer to the Luoyan Mountains to investigate the Burrowing Rats as a pretext. Demon Slayer was like him—a rule-breaker, unrestrained by convention. One such person was enough. Not wanting him to disrupt his own plans, Ye Feng had simply found an excuse to send him away.

“I know why they’re troubled!” Demon Slayer took the stool from Little Zhu and pointed at the five miserable souls. “They all fancy Princess Anran, but word from the palace is that she’s to marry you! Their fathers fear trouble, so they want them wed quickly. Not just them—there are four or five more drinking away their sorrows at Baoyue Tower!”

…

Ye Feng was dumbstruck. What was this? Marriage as repayment? That couldn’t be…

Looking back at Xiao Chong and the others, Ye Feng realized their gazes were filled with melancholy whenever they looked at him—so they were all love rivals!

A mischievous thought crossed his mind. These were his future companions. If he really married Princess Anran, and they saw their beloved with him every day, would jealousy drive them mad enough to eliminate him?

Second Brother Xiao was resigned; he’d unwittingly ruined things for the others.

“Enough, gentlemen! I already have someone in my heart. As for Princess Anran, you can fight it out among yourselves. If I refuse, surely the emperor won’t force me?” As he spoke, that black-robed figure once more flashed across his mind, and a smile curled his lips.

“Really?” Xiao Chong turned, his voice plaintive and full of longing.

The other four gazed at Ye Feng with desperate hope, as if ready to die if he lied.

“Really!” Ye Feng nodded.

“You’re not lying?”

“Not lying!”

“What if I don’t believe you?”

“Then you can go die.”

“But I still don’t believe you?”

“…”

Xiao Chong, face mournful, stared at Ye Feng with pitiful eyes.

Ye Feng genuinely sympathized with them, but their lovesick looks annoyed him. If he weren’t pretending to be injured, he’d have been tempted to step on them.

“By the way! On my way back, I saw a few people near Mount Wuliang in the outskirts!” Demon Slayer, impatient with their drama, suddenly interrupted.

“You ran into that golden-haired fellow again?” Ye Feng teased.

“Yeah!” To everyone’s surprise, Demon Slayer nodded seriously.

“There were four or five of them, all strong. I wasn’t their match, so avoided a fight. Also, their aura was just like yours when you go all out.” Demon Slayer squinted with displeasure. For reasons unknown, he harbored fierce hostility toward all but those with black hair.

“Hm?” On hearing this, all six sat up straight.

Especially Ye Feng. Perhaps the others didn’t understand Demon Slayer’s words, but Ye Feng knew exactly what he meant: their aura matched his own. Because they were the same kind.