Chapter 246: Disaster (3)

Works by Angry Banana

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The situation was chaotic, suddenly spiraling out of control.

Between the weirs, under the shade of trees, and from the distant boats, people had already surged forward, curious due to the earlier confusion and accusations, and Lou Shuheng’s loud protests. Under the trees nearby, several women who had been playing the zither, singing softly, and chatting were startled when Lou Shuheng fell into the water. They stopped their music, blending into the crowd and looking this way. Soon after, Lou Shuheng’s friends pushed through the crowd, and suddenly someone was knocked to the ground, followed by the sight of another being violently swung into the water.

Shouts continued. A third person rushed forward and was instantly slammed hard onto the ground, then a fourth. Perhaps it was at this point that the crowd realized the events were deviating from their natural assumptions.

Hangzhou was a major city, the foremost administrative hub in the Dongyan region, and those who came to Xiaoyingzhou this time were all people of status.

The Lou family, to which Lou Shuheng belonged, was one of Hangzhou’s most prominent families. The young men who associated with him typically held various positions of status. Even if they weren't from noble or wealthy families, in a world that valued literary accomplishments, if someone truly possessed poetic talent and wasn't overly dull or ignorant of social graces, they could usually form connections with influential families and become quite spirited.

There was a saying about weak scholars being unable to even tie a chicken. However, among impetuous young men with high self-regard, minor clashes were common in a place like Hangzhou, where elites gathered. The well-known courtesans invited to this gathering understood this even better. In brothels, jealousy and verbal quarrels often escalated to the point of physical confrontation. When restraint broke, either family backgrounds were weighed and parties retreated, or a fight would erupt.

Group brawls among scholars generally caused little harm, usually leaving participants disheveled, panting, and perhaps with a nosebleed. But if many people ganged up on one, the fate of the outnumbered individual was hard to predict. Under the tree at that moment stood a seemingly frail scholar in his early twenties, protecting a delicate young girl dressed as a maid. Lou Shuheng’s earlier shout had further determined the direction of events; a son-in-law involved with a maid—such a person, even if surrounded and beaten, would likely not dare to retaliate.

However, as the old man spoke, the crowd rushed forward. The first person was directly knocked down, the second was swung into the pond, and the third was severely elbowed to the ground, landing on his shoulder. The young scholar, protecting the young girl, merely loosened his hold slightly but still shielded her behind him, showing no sign of weakness. With a furrowed brow, he grabbed the fourth person’s fist, twisted it back, and pushed the person away amidst a pained cry. The crowd was suddenly stunned by this head-on assault and felt a flicker of fear.

Of course, even after realizing Ning Yi was not to be trifled with, Lou Shuheng’s acquaintances and close friends, given their numbers, could not retreat. The old man who had spoken earlier watched with wide eyes. He was also a respected old scholar in Hangzhou, though naturally less prominent than the Lou or Qian families. But seeing that it was the Lou family’s second young master who had fallen into the water, and the other person completely unknown, he decisively stepped forward. His hair and beard bristled as he waved his hands in the air: “Insolent youth, how dare you! You commit a wrong and then brazenly resort to violence! Surrender at once!” His response came as Ning Yi casually shoved a charging man back, sending him crashing into the crowd. “Get back!” Ning Yi stepped forward with that push, his voice low and firm, as Xiao Chan was protected behind him in the narrow space.

“Grab him!” Lou Shuheng yelled from the water. Ning Yi had struck in a fit of rage, though he had held back from using his full strength. Still, half of Lou Shuheng’s face was swollen, blood spilled from his mouth, and his features were distorted. At his shout, several more people rushed forward, yelling, “Beat him!” No matter how ferocious Ning Yi appeared, it was a battle against a human tide. In the Hangzhou area, many would flock to help the Lou family’s second young master, regardless of whether they could win. These people had hesitated momentarily but instantly realized this. Ning Yi immediately knocked down the first one. Another threw a punch from the side, which Ning Yi blocked with a casual sweep. Then, a punch landed squarely on the face of the third person who rushed in ferociously, making their nose bleed profusely.

After knocking one person down and slapping another into the water, more people charged. While dodging, someone kicked Ning Yi’s leg hard. He kicked back, sending that person flying through the air. Before he could regain his footing, a short scholar cried out and rushed forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Ning Yi’s waist, trying to push him backward. Ning Yi took half a step back and slammed his elbow onto the scholar’s back.

The scholar’s grip loosened, but he didn’t fall, unwilling to let go. Ning Yi grabbed his shoulders and, with a guttural cry, swung him. The scholar, along with another person rushing from the side, tumbled into West Lake. The instant Ning Yi turned, someone else rushed from his other side, delivering a flying kick hard into Ning Yi’s back. Ning Yi didn’t budge, but the attacker seemed to have kicked a solid wall and crashed to the ground.

Xiao Chan cried out and rushed forward. She was already young, and now, flustered and afraid, she waved her small fists at the fallen attacker’s head, her voice tearful. She was actually afraid of being hit herself, squinting and flailing her fists, not landing a single blow. The person on the ground was momentarily stunned, flailing their hands wildly, striking Xiao Chan’s hand once, sending her stumbling backward. There wasn’t much space behind her, and Xiao Chan had to grab onto a tree trunk to avoid falling into the water.

Still crying, she tried to rush forward again. Ning Yi grabbed the wrist of another person charging him, turning back to shout, “Xiao Chan, hide!” Xiao Chan, realizing she was a hindrance, stood by the water, wiping away tears and crying loudly, “What are you doing? What are you doing? Bullying people! Bullying people…” The person on the ground was just trying to get up when Ning Yi stepped back and placed his foot on the back of their hand. Though he wore cloth shoes, the person screamed. Their other hand frantically slapped Ning Yi’s heel. Ning Yi swung his fists to block and parry, taking two punches to the chest, but his feet remained unmoving. The person’s screams became a continuous accompaniment to the fight.

The scene was chaotic and intense. Those involved in the mob might have had varying thoughts, but the onlookers in the outer crowd were utterly dumbfounded, some astonished, others awestruck. Especially the women under the trees, still clutching their instruments, watched intently, their breathing quickening.

In those times, people had seen rough martial artists who made a living through their skills. But Ning Yi’s appearance was nothing like a warrior’s. He stood there, in his early twenties, dressed in a scholar’s green robe, with no elaborate stances or techniques, just quick and decisive moves. People charged three or two at a time, only to be knocked down or forced back. Though they appeared similar in age and build, the group before him seemed like children. Even when they occasionally landed a blow, it only disheveled or dirtied his robe. Protecting the crying girl behind him, he didn't retreat a single step from start to finish.

By this point, over a dozen people were injured; some bleeding from their noses and mouths, others holding an arm or groaning nearby with twisted necks. As the commotion spread, more people were gathering from afar, some of whom knew each other and rushed to join the fray.

The young people participating in the mob might have been carried away and unable to discern much, but many of the bystanders in the crowd were relatively clear-headed. During this time, seasoned merchants or scholars began to understand certain things. Even some of the courtesans by the weir could tell that the man accused of adultery possessed a calm demeanor and a commanding presence in his every movement, far beyond that of a frivolous scholar who indulged in women and deceived affections. For a man of such bearing to become a live-in son-in-law seemed utterly preposterous, like a tale from another world.

Given Lou Shuheng’s status, no one dared to speak openly, but various discussions already floated through the crowd. Questions that began as “What exactly happened?” or accusations of “this adulterous couple” entirely shifted to “Who is this man?” Some merchants in the crowd remembered Ning Yi and his status as a live-in son-in-law, only for others to retort, “Impossible, you must have mistaken him for someone else.” The former would nod thoughtfully. Under the opposite trees, the courtesans, holding their guqins and guzheng, whispered and chattered amongst themselves, their gazes never leaving the ongoing battle.

If it had been a fight between ordinary martial artists, no matter how fierce, they would likely have dismissed it as crude and foolish. But the current scene was indeed vastly different.

In a flash, over a dozen people were injured. The confrontation didn’t last long, though the scholars seemed to be continuously charging. Meanwhile, imperial guards, trying to maintain order, were already pushing through the crowd towards them.

The first guard to arrive was alone, moving very slowly, not daring to offend the dense crowd. Just as he squeezed out, a tall scholar nearby, who had been frantically searching for something, suddenly yelled, “You bastard!” and swiftly drew the saber the guard carried, charging straight at Ning Yi.

“Watch out!”“Don’t be reckless!”“Ah!”

Shouts erupted from all sides. The man charged from the side, and Ning Yi, seeing the flash of the blade, frowned. He was a man of self-control and had been holding back throughout the fight. Otherwise, with the explosive power of the internal cultivation left by Lu Hongti, combined with his knowledge of human weak points, dispatching a few of these scholars with a couple of punches and kicks would have been no problem at all. Now, he stepped forward, walking directly towards the man holding the saber!

Their figures collided instantly. The scholar was also a spoiled scion; his blood rushed with anger, leading him to draw the blade, but he had never actually killed anyone. Ning Yi charged directly, startling him. Though the saber was swung, it posed no threat to Ning Yi, who closed in swiftly, facing the bare blade unarmed. The man’s arm was suddenly twisted back, eliciting a pained scream. In the eyes of the crowd, their figures merely met, and the next moment, with a cry of agony, the tall scholar was pushed off balance, staggering back violently. Then, with a crash, his upper body slammed into the large tree trunk by the lake, causing the tree to tremble and leaves to rustle down.

More people charged from behind. Ning Yi backhanded the first one, sending him flying. However, the next two swiftly tried to restrain him. Ning Yi’s left hand was still twisting the tall scholar’s saber-wielding right arm, pressing him against the tree trunk. The two men closed in tightly; one pinned his right hand, and as the other approached, there was a loud thud.

A powerful headbutt sent the man clutching his nose, stumbling backward. Ning Yi twisted his right hand, gripping the other man’s arm at the pulse point, swinging him around twice in place. Then, he grabbed the man’s earlobe, pulling so hard the man doubled over to the side, blood flowing, screaming continuously, but no longer daring to move.

“Have you made enough trouble, or are you coming for more?!” Ning Yi’s gaze swept over the remaining scholars who seemed still eager to try, and he barked the question. His left hand pressed the tall scholar against the tree trunk, restraining him and controlling the saber. His other hand held another scholar by the ear, which was already torn. The scholar was bent over, just screaming, not daring to struggle. After that shout, the crowd on the weir watched him, gradually quieting down. No one dared to charge again. Ning Yi’s might was secondary; the primary deterrent was the saber. If this continued, things would truly become unmanageable.

Behind him was the figure of Xiao Chan, crying and wiping away tears. Layers of people on the weir looked over. The women on the other side of the lake, mouths slightly agape, hands clasped, seemed to be silently saying something. Su Tan’er had also managed to get there, but she couldn’t penetrate the crowd. She was watching from the side, wondering how the situation would unfold.

And within the crowd at that moment, Lou Shuzhen, who had arrived a little earlier, covered her mouth with both hands, staring dumbfounded at the scene. She had previously thought Ning Yi’s interest in martial arts, merely observing outside the martial arts hall every day, was just a childish game. In this era, she had seen so-called martial scholars who were all play-acting, but she had never imagined that when he truly acted, such a scene would unfold before her eyes…

Upon waking this morning, I found more clowns in the comment section, talking about vote manipulation for *Zhui Xu* (The Son-in-Law) in the past. While I usually remain calm about other accusations, this kind of talk can still make me angry. To me, it’s the most disgusting accusation because I never engage in such pointless activities as vote manipulation.

I haven't been in good condition and haven't asked for votes in months, which seems to have led some people to believe this book has flopped or was already a flop, and they come out to brag. I didn’t want to mention some data, but it won’t hurt. *Zhui Xu* has a peak subscription of 28,000 and an average subscription of nearly 16,000. When it was first published, it peaked at 11,000 hourly unique subscriptions, and it maintains 7,000 now. When I consistently updated, my subscriptions never dropped. Whether it was a struggle or smooth sailing, thank you all for your support. I have always disliked comparisons, and comparing my performance to specific individuals on Qidian is meaningless to me. There is only one thing that matters: I have never felt that my writing is good enough. No matter who says what or tries to persuade me, I find it hard to believe I’ve written well enough. Even though I understand this myself, or even if I desired more money, I cannot overcome this. This is my inner demon, my delusion, something I can never get past.

But if anyone wishes to discuss performance, I hope that after the data is released, such clowns will no longer appear.

The main text is 3,700 words. PS does not count for payment.Welcome.