Chapter 41: White Fight (Seeking Collection and Recommendation!)

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  Thanks for the support of book friends, yesterday was really too brilliant!

  Collect！！！Still on the recommended list for classification, don't fall off！

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  That fatty saw the white-clothed youth stop and immediately understood that something had changed. His face red and his neck thick, he glared at Zhong Wei Xiao and shouted: "It was clearly him who hit me first!" His face still carried a hint of grievance.

  Wei Zhuang's eyes swept over him and he said to Fu Yang: "If you haven't had enough of being beaten, we can do it again."

  That fatty heard it and immediately shrunk his neck, hastily retreating backwards.

  That young man in white clothes clenched his fists, filled with great hatred. He was actually beaten to death by a nameless small soldier, without even having the power to fight back!

  How hateful! How hateful! How hateful!

  He strenuously suppressed the undulating chest, his face was gloomy and cold, his eyes flashed rapidly with a chilly light, and his mind turned quickly with various thoughts.

  He can't afford to lose his temper here, he must keep his dignity, be polite and courteous!

  Finally, the young man in white suppressed his anger that was about to explode from his chest, his eyes cold and swift, and his gloomy face slowly subsided. He turned to Wei Zhao, his eyes flashing coldly, and asked expressionlessly, "May I ask your name?"

  Fu Jiong also figured it out at this time, glared at the timid and shrinking fatty, proudly hummed a sound, puffed out his chest and walked towards Wei Xiao's side.

  Wei Zhao glanced at the young man in white, then looked at Fu Yang's excited expression and smiled calmly: "Not bad, didn't make me lose face as your teacher."

  Fu Yan's face, already flushed with excitement and trembling, looked up at Wei Zuo, nodded heavily and said "en" in a happy and radiant smile.

  The young man in white clothes clenched his fist again, his face changing color, and coldly said: "Sir, please tell me your full name, so that Zhou can come to ask for advice another day."

  Listening to the white-clothed youth's **naked threat**, Wei Zhao turned his head and scrutinized him for a moment, a smile suddenly appearing: "Are you planning to provoke me at the Buddhist Debate Conference?"

  The Buddhist conference selects materials for the country, and literati are humble towards each other, nor do they care about competing in poetry and literature.

  The young man in white robes stiffened his face and immediately frowned, saying in a low voice: "What's the big deal!"

  Wei Zhao nodded slightly and said, "Then I won't tell you."

  That young man in white was taken aback, almost choked by Wei Xiao's words. He had been so blatant in his provocation, yet the guy opposite him replied calmly and confidently, "Then I won't tell you!" This was completely unlike the usual situation, where even the most untalented and poetry-ignorant person would immediately flush with anger and retort strongly after hearing such a remark. Losing wasn't a big deal, but one couldn't lose without dignity!

  He stared blankly at Wei Zhao, unable to adapt to the astonishment that Wei Zhao had given him. Before he could speak, Wei Zhao had already turned his head towards the direction of the central high platform.

  "Wait a minute!" The young man in white clothes suddenly shouted loudly in his anxiety.

  Wei Xiao slightly furrowed his brow and turned around, saying: "Is there something else?"

  The young man in white clothes stiffened, his mouth twitching violently. 'Anything else?' he thought to himself, feeling like he was about to hit the wall. But looking at Wei Zhao's matter-of-fact expression, it seemed as if things were always meant to be this way. His lips parted, and for a moment, he really didn't know what to say.

  Wei Xiao lightly lowered his head, his eyes revealing a hint of "huh?"

  The young man in white was choked again, his mouth twitching, his lips moving, but he didn't say a word.

  "Hmm." Before Wei Xiao could speak, he suddenly hummed and walked forward with a cold face, directly passing by Wei Xiao's side.

  Several others, seeing this, also followed the young man in white, quickly and quietly leaving. The just now fierce and domineering appearance was all retracted, carefully and cautiously passing by Wei Zhao's side. That fatty glared at Fu Yang with a glance, but when looking at Wei Zhao, he shrunk his neck.

  Watching several people leave, Fu Yan's face was excited, and he sincerely saluted Wei Zuo with a fist: "Thank you, teacher."

  Wei Zhao smiled and nodded, saying: "Yi Yun should be your sister, right?"

  Fu Yan was taken aback and smiled awkwardly: "Teacher saw through it?"

  Wei Xiao smiled but didn't speak, Fu Yang hesitated slightly, and a look of premature weariness appeared on his small face. He sighed: "Her mother was originally one of my father's concubines, but she suddenly died later. My sister wasn't bullied by the other madams, so in a fit of rage, Father drove her out of the house. At that time, she was only fifteen years old, and I was nine."

  Wei Xiao slightly furrowed his brow and nodded lightly. Every family has its own unspeakable troubles, each with their own misfortunes.

  Xiangliang didn't have much sentiment, tugging on Weizao's sleeve and whispering "Young Master, if we shout loudly, will those geniuses really come to help us?"

  Wei Zhuo's face stiffened as soon as he heard it, and he immediately gave Xiang Qiang a slap on the head, glared at her, and turned to walk towards the high platform.

  This question is obviously unnecessary.

  Fu Jiong hurriedly followed Wei Qiao, holding something in his arms and looking at Xiangxiang's innocent appearance with a smile.

  Xiangliang hugged her little head, with a look of grievance on her face. She was really curious about this question.

  Under the high platform, people crowded together, leaving no gaps. Except for the necessary passageway, all other places were packed tightly.

  Three people, Wei and Zhuo, arrived at the edge, from afar they could see that the high platform was empty with no one in sight, while below, heads were crowded together, a sea of black. The strange land to the north, Wei Zhuo wasn't surprised, after all, every dynasty has always had its privileged class.

  Wei Zhao turned his head and glanced at the little girl with a curious face, shook his head, and thought that if it were Wenyu, she would definitely arrange seats for herself.

  Fu Jiong wasn't very surprised, after all he had been there a few times. However, he was quite curious about the golden package in his arms. In Yiyun's room, he stood behind Wei Zhao and only saw the gilt invitation card, but didn't see clearly whose names were on it.

  To know that in Daqi, only officials above the third rank can use gold-lettered invitations, and suddenly there were more than a dozen of them, Fu Yang had been curious for a long time.

  Wei Zhao looked around and found that the south side had a vacant staircase, although it was quite far from the high platform. Fortunately, Wei Zhao didn't plan to observe at close range, so he lifted his foot and headed south.

  "Did you hear that?" The young man in white, who was almost at the front row and had just clashed with Wei Zhao, said coldly, still fuming with anger.

  Next to him sat a young scholar in similar attire, who furrowed his brow and said in a low voice, "I've heard that he's the young master of the Weidai silk merchant family from Jinling. There's nothing special about him."

  The young man in white was still feeling suffocated in his heart, and as soon as he heard it, the corner of his mouth curled up, coldly laughing "Oh, so you're just a low-born."

  Scholars, farmers, artisans and merchants; merchants in Great Qi were of a low social class, including their children and servants.

  The young scholar shook his head and said in a low voice, "No, Wei Xiao was promoted to Xiucai three years ago and removed from the humble register." Once a person becomes a scholar in Da Qi, they can remove their humble status.

  The young man in white robes sneered, looking at the high platform that was within arm's reach. He said coldly, "Xiucai, humph! I wonder how long your Xiucai can last!" At this moment, his heart was filled with anger at being toyed with.

  Across the white-clad young people in a dozen seats, Chu Han's face was agitated, his eyes fixed firmly on the high platform, muttering to himself "Yiyin Miss, you must come, I want to let you know that I am worthy of you!"

  Behind them, not far away, with a gentle wave of his fan, he closed his eyes slightly, looking calm and composed. If you look closer, you will find that fine beads of sweat are constantly seeping from his forehead.

  As the sun's rays gradually shifted, the noisy crowd gradually quieted down, and one after another cast their gaze towards the densely packed northern face hidden behind the canopy.

  There lies the true power of Buddhism.