Chapter 73: Why Has This Woman Come?

Meanwhile, Qin Feng and his two companions had already left the casino and were strolling down a bustling street. Night had deepened, and beneath the neon lights, the city seemed even more enchanting and mysterious. Qin Feng appeared utterly unbothered by the earlier altercation.

“Feng, since when did you become so badass?” Wang Bo finally gave in to his curiosity and broke the silence. He couldn’t stop replaying the thrilling scene from earlier in his mind, a lingering fear in his heart—if not for Qin Feng, he might have been beaten to a pulp by now.

Qin Feng let out a light laugh, responding with easy indifference, “Those losers wouldn’t last a second—I could handle them with a single finger. I just never had a chance to show off before, that’s all.”

“Yeah, right! Keep bragging!” Wang Bo clearly didn’t believe him, but his eyes sparkled with excitement. After all, who hasn’t dreamed of being a martial arts hero? Having such a formidable friend was exhilarating.

Yang Tianchen watched the two banter, but inwardly, he was astonished. Though he hadn’t known Qin Feng long, his skills and those inexplicable gambling tricks earlier suggested he was far from ordinary.

“By the way, Brother Yang, let me introduce you—this is my childhood buddy, Wang Bo, but everyone calls him Fatty!” Qin Feng turned to Wang Bo. “And this is Brother Yang, Yang Tianchen.”

Yang Tianchen was briefly taken aback by the sudden introduction, but quickly smiled and nodded at Wang Bo. “Hello.”

“Brother Yang, a pleasure, a real pleasure!” Wang Bo hurriedly shook his hand in return. He wasn’t stupid—anyone who could remain so calm after what happened clearly wasn’t a regular person.

Qin Feng couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s antics. “Let’s go, we should head back. There’s business to attend to tomorrow.”

Soon, the three returned to the hotel where the Martial Arts Tournament organizers were staying. After finding a room for Wang Bo, Qin Feng retired to his own for the night.

…

Elsewhere, Jiang Yuechan had already received information on both Qin Feng and Yang Tianchen. She was unaffected as she reviewed Qin Feng’s file, but the moment she glanced at Yang Tianchen’s information, she froze.

“The second young master of the Yang family from the capital? What is this living legend doing in Jiangnan?”

Immediately, she recalled the Jiangnan Martial Arts Tournament her father had mentioned. The realization dawned on her. “So that’s it.” A cold smile played at the corners of her lips. “I can’t touch someone from the Yang family, but you’re just a nouveau riche upstart—did you really think you could turn things upside down?”

Jiang Yuechan picked up her phone and dialed a number. Moments later, she hung up, snorted coldly, and muttered, “Qin Feng, let’s see how long you can keep strutting around.”

The next morning, Qin Feng rose early and left his room. When he checked on Wang Bo, he found the guy still sound asleep, snoring away. Not bothering with him, Qin Feng turned and headed toward the hotel lobby.

Upon arrival, he saw Yang Tianchen already waiting, dressed in a crisp white casual outfit, holding two cups of soy milk. Seeing Qin Feng, he smiled and waved. “Feng, over here!”

“Morning, Brother Yang.” Qin Feng walked over, took the soy milk, and was pleasantly surprised. “How did you know I like sweet soy milk?”

Yang Tianchen smiled mysteriously. “Just a guess. Looks like I was right, wasn’t I?”

Qin Feng raised an eyebrow but said nothing, taking a sip. “Come on, let’s grab some breakfast. We’ve got things to do soon.”

The two finished breakfast at a leisurely pace and made their way to the tournament venue. Today, the arena was even livelier than the day before, throngs of people everywhere; nearly every prominent martial arts family in Jiangnan had gathered.

Qin Feng and Yang Tianchen’s arrival went largely unnoticed.

“Brother Yang, didn’t the competition end yesterday? Why is it even more crowded today?” Qin Feng asked in a low voice.

Yang Tianchen smiled slightly and explained, “The Jiangnan Martial Arts Tournament, as the name suggests, is a grand event for the region’s martial world, held every three years. What we saw yesterday was just the internal competition. The rest are mostly matches arranged by wealthy individuals who’ve hired fighters—just a way for them to earn a bit of glory for themselves.”

Qin Feng suddenly understood. No wonder so many people were flocking here—it all made sense now.

At that moment, a commotion rippled through the crowd as a burly, middle-aged man in a black training suit strode into the venue with the bearing of a dragon or tiger. Behind him followed a group of disciples, all in matching attire, exuding the steady presence of seasoned martial artists.

“Look, it’s the head of Ironpeace Martial Hall, Xie Tianxiong—the Iron Palm Skimmer!”

“He’s a favorite to win the championship this year!”

The chatter among the onlookers was filled with awe and respect for Xie Tianxiong. Qin Feng watched him with interest; this man certainly seemed impressive—no wonder he was a dominant force in Jiangnan’s martial world.

Xie Tianxiong seemed to sense Qin Feng’s gaze and turned to look at him. Their eyes met, and Xie Tianxiong felt an invisible pressure sweep over him, making his heart jolt. After a moment, he snorted coldly and looked away, as if Qin Feng were a nobody not worth his attention.

“What a show-off. Who does he think he is, some king of the world?” Qin Feng cursed inwardly, annoyed by Xie Tianxiong’s arrogance.

Yang Tianchen noticed Qin Feng’s irritation and quietly reminded him, “Don’t mind these people, Brother Qin. They’re just martial artists among commoners—impressive to ordinary folks, but no match for true martial artists.”

Qin Feng shrugged dismissively. “Yeah.” He suddenly broke off mid-sentence, a sly glint flashing in his eyes.

Yang Tianchen asked curiously, “What is it?”

Qin Feng smiled mysteriously. “Nothing—you’ll see soon enough.”

Before Yang Tianchen could probe further, an elderly man took the stage, cleared his throat, and addressed the crowd in a sonorous voice. “Fellow martial artists, welcome to the Jiangnan Martial Arts Tournament. I am honored to serve as the host for this great event…”

The old man rambled on with formalities, nearly putting Qin Feng to sleep with boredom. Restless, he let his gaze wander around the hall.

Suddenly, his eyes landed on a woman not far away. She wore a striking red dress that accentuated her tall, shapely figure, her long, glossy black hair cascading over her shoulders. More than her looks, it was her aura—a blend of maturity and allure—that captivated attention. Her bewitching, almond-shaped eyes seemed capable of seeing straight through a man’s soul, compelling one to worship at her feet.

“Jiang Yuechan? What is she doing here?” Qin Feng frowned in displeasure.

Yang Tianchen warned, “Brother Qin, don’t do anything rash. Her father, Old Tiger Jiang, is not someone you want to cross!”

He suddenly fell silent, for Jiang Yuechan was walking toward them, a playful smile on her lips and a dangerous glint in her beautiful eyes.

“Is this woman here to settle scores with me?” A sense of foreboding washed over Qin Feng as she sashayed closer, hips swaying, heels clicking on the floor.