Chapter 223: Second Master Liu

“Everyone, what is going on here?”

Mu Feng slowly put down his teacup as he watched the aggressive young men dragging in the bloodied waiter.

The leader of the young men was fierce, and behind him followed seven or eight others of similar age. Apart from a short one in the middle, the rest all wore longswords at their waists and identical white robes. The white robes were well-made, mostly plain and snow-white. On their left sleeves was an embroidered design of an open ancient book, and on their right sleeves, a longsword.

Students of Xiangshan Academy?

With a quick glance at the sleeves, Mu Feng quickly understood their identity.

Along his journey, besides meditating, he had read many books and already learned some basic knowledge about Xiangshan Academy.

Unlike many small local schools, Xiangshan Academy had a thousand-year legacy with many talented graduates. The academy had strict entry and graduation standards, requiring both scholarly and martial prowess. The ancient book on the left sleeve symbolized vast knowledge and learning, while the longsword on the right sleeve represented a strong physique and firm will.

“Heh, what’s going on?”

The leading young man smirked coldly, throwing the bloodied waiter to the ground and stomping hard on his face. “This wretched boy, I, Second Master Liu, have always treated you well and given you plenty of rewards. Yet you still don’t know your place. Today, I was preparing to entertain a distinguished guest, to welcome and honor him, and you dared to give away the private booth I reserved in advance to someone else. Isn’t this asking for death?”

The self-proclaimed Second Master Liu wore a fierce expression. As he spoke, he twisted his foot, leaving a clear shoeprint on the waiter’s face. Humiliated and in pain, the waiter dared not struggle, only begging bitterly, regretting his decision deeply.

All for the sake of earning a little extra silver from Mu Feng, he had brought this disaster upon himself!

Only now did he realize that the old fortune-teller from the morning had been right—he truly was facing a blood-related calamity today!

“Second Master, I was wrong, I admit my mistake! Spare me, please spare me! I’ll never dare do it again…”

The waiter pleaded miserably, feeling both regretful and deeply wronged.

Second Master Liu had clearly said he wouldn’t arrive until after noon. Seeing there was plenty of time, the waiter had allowed Mu Feng to come up. Who could have expected this spoiled young master would show up so early without any notice?

“Heh, wrong? Do you think there will be a next time?”

The self-proclaimed Second Master Liu smirked coldly, drawing the sharp sword from his waist with a clang and gesturing with it near the waiter’s face. He seemed to be considering where to strike to kill with one blow, terrifying the poor waiter into trembling all over.

“Hahaha, that’s right, will there be a next time? You didn’t even give our Second Master face, you’re blind! What use are such eyes? Might as well dig them out.”

“No, if you dig out both eyes, how will he walk in the future? Even if we dig them out, just one will do. Then cut off one ear, chop off one hand, and draw a flower on his face!”

“Let me think, autumn is coming soon. Should we draw an autumn chrysanthemum, or perhaps a winter plum blossom?”

…

The young men behind Second Master Liu laughed loudly, tossing out suggestions one after another, scaring the already terrified waiter so much he wet his pants. Only the short youth in the middle remained silent, not joining in the commotion, occasionally glancing at Mu Feng with purpose or by chance.

He wore a gray robe and was very short, not even reaching an average person’s shoulder. But his forehead was full, his nose high, his lips thin and tightly pressed. His features were delicate and refined, his robe nearly spotless, looking clean and tidy, like a quiet scholar freshly emerged from deep in the mountains, untouched by the worldly filth.

“Enough, let go of this waiter!”

Mu Feng’s expression was calm. After hearing the words of Second Master Liu and the waiter, he naturally understood the situation. After a pause, he continued lightly, “I came up to this booth on my own; it has nothing to do with this waiter. If there’s any problem, come to me. I’ll take responsibility.”

“Oh, to you? How will you take responsibility for insulting my esteemed guest? Can you even bear that responsibility?”

Second Master Liu kicked the pleading waiter aside and smirked coldly at Mu Feng.

Dragging the waiter here and humiliating him in front of Mu Feng was all to elicit this very response.

This ungrateful waiter was just a minor punishment; the real target was Mu Feng, who had taken his seat. The earlier humiliation and punishment of the waiter were merely the appetizer; the main event had yet to begin!

Facing the imposing Second Master Liu, Mu Feng remained calm. “I have only just arrived and had a cup of tea here. Tell me, how should I take responsibility?”

These young men were arrogant and aggressive, especially the self-proclaimed Second Master Liu. For such a trivial matter, he acted so ruthlessly—where was the bearing of a scholar?

Though dressed in the robes of a Xiangshan Academy student, his behavior, in Mu Feng’s eyes, was no different from that of the illiterate bully Mu Qingyuan.

Such a person was clearly from a wealthy or noble background, accustomed to arrogance. In the past, Mu Feng would have swung his sword and swept him aside. But now, after all he had experienced, he stood higher and saw further, disdaining to bother with such trash.

“Hahaha, you make it sound simple. For you, it was just a cup of tea, but for us, it was a breach of etiquette, an insult to our guest.” The young man who called himself Second Master laughed, then his face turned cold. “My request is simple. I don’t need compensation or an apology. Just personally wipe the table clean.”

“Fine, no problem.”

Mu Feng nodded, walked over to the waiter, picked up the towel hanging on his shoulder, turned around, and carefully wiped the table surface. His movements were calm and composed; not only did he remove any stains, but even the slightest dust. His expression was placid—no ingratiating smile, no anger or discontent—much to everyone’s surprise.

“Alright, is it acceptable now?” After wiping it clean, Mu Feng returned the towel to the waiter and looked up quietly at the aggressive Second Master Liu.

“Good, very good. Wiped quite clean, but…”

Second Master Liu smiled grimly. Though Mu Feng’s actions were unexpected, he clearly had no intention of letting it go. He deliberately paused before slowly continuing, “The table got stained with tea. Not only is the surface dirty, but the moisture seeps deep into the wood. Do you think a simple wipe can clean that?”

“Oh, what do you want then?” Mu Feng’s eyes flashed with cold light briefly before returning to calm as he looked at the pushy, reckless youth.

“Simple. Wipe, wipe again! Clean the table surface, and wipe away the moisture that has seeped into the wood.”

Second Master Liu smirked coldly. As he spoke, he gave a subtle signal, and the young men behind him understood, spreading out to block the door firmly.

“Good, very well, no problem!”

Mu Feng nodded, his expression still calm, to everyone’s surprise. But this time, he did not pick up the waiter’s towel. Instead, he took the heavy sword from his back and slowly began to unwrap the cloth covering it.