Thriller Paradise Chapter 202: Cangling Debate of Swords (10) - Novel Cool

Chapter 202: Cangling Debate of Swords (10)

Chapter 202: Cangling Debate of Swords (10)

As Feng Bu Jue stepped into the inn, many noticed him, but no one recognized him. None paid him or the four people behind him any mind, assuming they were mere disciples from second- and third-tier sects who’d carelessly wandered in, unfamiliar with the established norms.

At that moment, Shi Yanran’s attention was fixed on Gongsun Qian’s conversation with Ji Tong. Her nerves were frayed from guilt, fearing outsiders might uncover some flaw in their scheme. Every word they exchanged made her tense.

Shi Yanran sat sideways to the inn’s main entrance. When her eyes caught movement at the doorway, she glanced over absentmindedly—but froze mid-blink. Startled, she shot to her feet so abruptly her chair toppled backward.

Gongsun Qian sensed something amiss and halted his conversation with Ji Tong. Turning his head, he saw his wife staring wide-eyed toward the entrance. Following her gaze, he asked, “Wife, what’s wrong?”

“It’s them!” Shi Yanran pointed at Feng Bu Jue and the five newcomers entering the inn. “They’re the mysterious people who killed Wang Ao last night!”

In an instant, the inn lobby’s atmosphere shifted. Moments ago, the martial artists had ignored the newcomers, but now all eyes locked onto Feng Bu Jue’s group as if they were renowned figures.

Yet no matter how intently the elders scrutinized them, the five appeared ordinary. Their looks were strikingly handsome, their attire unremarkable, and no weapons were visible. Their expressions showed no fear or the seasoned sharpness of veteran martial artists. Most puzzling of all, their every move gave no hint of cultivated prowess.

“Hmph… So it’s you,” Feng Bu Jue coldly replied. As he spoke, Feng Bu Jue led his companions forward.

The Azure Spirit Inn’s lobby wasn’t filled with square tables but round ones, each seating up to six. Feng Bu Jue strode to an empty table and plopped down. After his teammates followed suit, he flicked his fingers toward an innkeeper nearby, beckoning him over.

The crowd had seen everything—but never this. As the saying goes, one hand can’t make a sound. Today, they’d witnessed someone create a crisp snap using just a single hand. It wasn’t a grand feat, but the novelty left everyone intrigued.

With this seemingly flippant gesture, Feng Bu Jue left the impression of being both reckless and eccentric.

The innkeeper hesitated for two seconds before approaching. Habitually draping a rag over his shoulder, he wiped the table and deftly arranged teacups before pouring steaming tea. “Ah… Sirs, may I take your order?”

“We need rooms,” Feng Bu Jue said.

“My apologies…,” the innkeeper replied, already finishing his wiping and pouring with practiced ease. He bowed apologetically. “You see, our humble inn has been flooded with guests lately. Every room’s occupied. Perhaps you could…”

“Move aside,” a deep voice suddenly growled behind the innkeeper. The speaker’s breath brushed the back of the innkeeper’s neck, making him leap sideways in alarm.

Instantly, Feng Bu Jue’s gaze locked onto the man. He was in his fifties, with gray hair and a face etched with anger.

Gongsun Qian’s features were distinctive—narrow eyes, a high nose, flat cheeks, and a wide jaw. Together, they didn’t form an ugly face, but one impossible to forget.

“Does the senior have business with me?” Feng Bu Jue asked, calm and unyielding.

“Hmph… Who’s your senior?” Gongsun Qian scoffed. Standing beside him were Wanxia Tower disciples Gongsun Li and Shi Yanran, their postures flanking their master protectively.

“I see…” Feng Bu Jue said slowly, rising to his feet.

The other Wanxia Tower disciples instantly stepped back, save Gongsun Qian. Clearly, Shi Yanran had already spread tales of the group’s unpredictable strength within the sect. If she hadn’t exaggerated their power, her own cowardice would’ve been exposed—and her face lost.

The tension in the inn began to simmer. Younger martial artists, inexperienced but eager, already wore expressions of anticipation, hoping to witness Gongsun Qian’s famed Wanxia Divine Skill in action.

“So then,” Feng Bu Jue changed tone, “you’ve got business with me?”

The lobby fell deathly silent, as if a cold wind had swept through.

Gongsun Qian, insulted but unable to retaliate, found himself cornered. After all, Feng Bu Jue had addressed him as “senior” first—it was Gongsun himself who’d rejected the title.

“You dare ask why?” Gongsun Qian pretended not to hear the jab. “Why did you kill my disciple in the streets last night?”

Feng Bu Jue showed no reaction, but his companions sipped tea leisurely, watching the scene unfold like spectators.

“Oh, so he was your disciple,” Feng Bu Jue said, shifting his gaze to Shi Yanran, then to Gongsun Li beside her. He’d recognized the square-faced man from the previous night.

Shi Yanran and Gongsun Li exchanged uneasy glances but kept their defiant expressions. Shi Yanran added, “Hmph… What’s wrong? Are you afraid to admit it now, in front of my husband, the Wanxia Tower Master?” Framing someone required seizing every opportunity to confuse the truth. By her logic, even a denial from Feng Bu Jue would be mere evasion.

Feng Bu Jue paused for two seconds, silently piecing together identities and relationships before replying, “You lot think I’ll let you off that easily? Now you’re coming after me?”

Just as the real culprits thought he’d reveal the truth, Feng Bu Jue suddenly spat at Gongsun Qian, “What’s there to deny? I killed him! Got a problem with that?”

Shi Yanran and Gongsun Li were stunned, their minds reeling. Seconds later, panic surged: He’s admitting it?! And just like that?! Is he insane?!

Meanwhile, Gongsun Qian, splattered with Feng Bu Jue’s spit, muttered inwardly: Well… At least he’s got guts…

“Good! If you dare admit it, there’s no need for words. The Wanxia Tower has no grudge with you, yet you killed my disciple. By martial law, I’ll now avenge him…” Gongsun Qian began.

“Hold on!” Feng Bu Jue interrupted. “Who said I killed him without cause?”

“Oh?” Gongsun Qian’s expression shifted. “Did you have a feud with Wang Ao?”

“No.”

“With the Wanxia Tower?”

“No again.”

“Hmph! Then why kill him?”

“He harassed my wife,” Feng Bu Jue said, pointing at Si Yu.

“Eh…?” Gongsun Qian was momentarily speechless.

Not just him—Xiao Tan, Bei Ling, and Ji Bu nearly dropped their teacups. Only Si Yu remained composed, her icy gaze fixed on Feng Bu Jue as though he’d borrowed money and now owed double.

“Last night, as we entered the town, we saw your drunk disciple staggering toward us,” Feng Bu Jue lied smoothly. “Upon seeing my wife’s beauty, he dared approach and insult her.” He spat on the floor, “Probably assumed none of us could cultivate, so he recklessly mocked me, pointing at my wife and spewing filth.”

Feng Bu Jue glared at Gongsun Qian, his words laced with venom: “I despise cowards who think their martial arts or sect status lets them bully others. So I crushed him with one palm.” He sneered, “Besides, I know my wife’s temper. Had I not intervened, she’d have done it herself. Either way, that bastard was doomed.” He cursed, “So Tower Master, are you here to avenge him?”

The implication in his words was like a counterattack, leaving no room for rebuttal. As an unverifiable case, this explanation seemed logically airtight at first glance.

The crucial point, however, lay in that provocative line: "You assumed none of us five knew martial arts." Feng Bu Jue had deliberately emphasized this, knowing everyone present needed to internalize it. When combined with his later claim about the murder, these words hinted at certain truths...

Everyone in the Inn understood the two ways to enter Cangling Town. Now, they all suddenly realized: these five must possess some secret technique to conceal their true strength! No wonder they'd never been heard of in the jianghu before—it was impossible for them to enter through conventional routes. They must have taken hidden paths. And only experts could navigate those treacherous secret passages.

"This is just your unproven word!" Gongsun Qian interjected, his voice rising—only to be cut off again.

"Ask the two beside you—truth or lie?" Feng Bu Jue said confidently.

His confidence wasn't unfounded. He knew the two beside the sect leader would corroborate his story. The reason was simple: killing someone required a motive.

Unless Shi Yanran and Gongsun Li wanted to claim Feng Bu Jue was a bloodthirsty maniac who killed indiscriminately, they had no reason to refute this narrative. After all, Shi was the actual killer. The facts showed no connection between Wang Ao's murder and these five. Now Feng Bu Jue had fabricated a motive—it actually helped Shi Yanran's case.

"Er... I didn't witness the killing", Shi Yanran hesitated. "When I arrived, Wang Ao was already dead..."

Gongsun Li lowered his voice. "Senior Brother... I arrived even later. I didn't see how Wang Ao and these people came to conflict. But I don't think they're lying." He leaned closer, whispering, "I've heard rumors before—Wang Ao had a reputation for being a lecher."

Gongsun Qian now believed Feng Bu Jue's story by seventy to eighty percent. Earlier, Shi Yanran and Gongsun Li hadn't clarified matters—not because they wanted to hide things, but because they couldn't. Now Wang Ao's death seemed perfectly reasonable.

Hearing Feng Bu Jue's fabricated tale and Gongsun Li's subtle confirmation, Gongsun Qian recalled—hadn't Wang Ao been seen flirting with his wife on multiple occasions? Remembering Wang's reputation as a handsome rogue, Gongsun Qian's desire for revenge quietly dissolved.

"What's your verdict, Sect Leader?" Feng Bu Jue raised his voice, his tone resounding with authority. "Today I'll say plainly—Wang Ao's dead because of me! If you think I overstepped, let's settle it by jianghu rules. Fate decides life and death—let our fists decide!"

"Master Gongsun", Ji Tong chimed in, smirking, "give us your stance!"

The other martial artists present now fully believed Feng Bu Jue's account. Whispers spread among them: "Wanxia Tower's in trouble now. Their own disciple committed misconduct, got killed fairly. Are they really going to seek vengeance?"

"Wang Ao... did he really behave so indecently in front of you?" Gongsun Qian asked cautiously.

Feng Bu Jue knew his lie had cracks. Even if Wang Ao were drunk, he wouldn't dare openly harass a woman assuming these five lacked martial arts skills. As a disciple of a respected sect, such street harassment would be unthinkable. Besides, Si Yu's appearance in the game wasn't remotely close to "nation-ravishing beauty." Wang Ao was no stranger to women—why risk it? Logically, while not impossible, the scenario was highly improbable.

"You question whether Wang Ao deserved death?" Feng Bu Jue suddenly turned fierce, stepping forward to grab Gongsun Qian's collar. "Shall I speak lewdly to your wife now, right before you? Would you endure that too?"

Though appearing enraged, Feng Bu Jue remained coldly rational. His response was masterful—avoiding direct answers while shifting focus elsewhere, as if the harassment's truth no longer mattered. Gongsun Qian's objections were merely excuses.

The bold move shocked everyone. Gongsun Qian, unprepared, failed to evade the grasping hand. A veteran of the jianghu, he'd never faced such crass physical intimidation—martial artists simply fought without such thuggish theatrics.

"Please calm down, young hero." Gongsun Qian, cornered, refrained from retaliating. Striking back now would be dishonorable. "That's not what I meant."

Feng Bu Jue grunted, releasing him but maintaining a scowl. His allies watched, awed by his performance. Bei Ling leaned toward Xiao Tan, whispering: "What an actor."

"Indeed", Xiao Tan replied.

Even Shi Yanran, standing opposite, felt bewildered: Last night I killed Wang Ao, right? Gongsun Li and I framed them... But now Feng Bu Jue took responsibility, twisted the story seamlessly, and acted like it truly happened. Is this man insane?

"Er... Might I know your noble name, young hero?" Gongsun Qian straightened his clothes, adopting a diplomatic tone. He realized further argument was futile. With the crowd's judgmental eyes upon him, stubborn resistance would only deepen his humiliation.

"Broken Sword Tea House master, Feng Bu Jue." Feng bowed formally.

The awkward reply hung in the air. Gongsun Qian had never heard of this sect but lacked the audacity to feign familiarity. Changing the subject, he said: "Master Feng, Wang Ao's indecent behavior violated Wanxia Tower's principles. His death was deserved. I failed to supervise properly... You've cleansed our dishonor. My previous hostility was unwarranted—please accept my apologies."

"Hmph... That sounds human." Feng Bu Jue sat, sipping tea casually, no longer bothering with politeness. He acted as if murder granted him moral high ground.

This blatant disrespect burned Gongsun Qian, especially under Ji Tong's mocking gaze. Rage boiled within him—from feet to scalp—but he couldn't sit down humiliated. He needed retaliation. Physical confrontation would brand him a bully, so he chose verbal sparring—better to wound pride than fists.

"Master Feng", Gongsun Qian smiled thinly, "I've roamed the jianghu for decades yet never heard of Broken Sword Tea House. You're young, skilled, and leading your own sect. Might I ask—whose disciple are you? Where's your sect founded? How many disciples do you have?"

Ladies and gentlemen... this was asking for death.

If words were weapons, Gongsun Qian wielded a wooden cudgel, while Feng Bu Jue brandished an Armstrong Catapult.

Feng Bu Jue curled his lips into a lascivious grin. The expression sent shivers down Gongsun Qian's spine, an omen of impending doom.

"I'm self-taught", Feng Bu Jue replied coolly. "Founded my own sect, wandering without fixed abode. Besides myself and my wife, we total three members."

(End of Chapter)

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