Martial King's Retired Life

“Who is he? He looks like a village bum.”

Ming Feizhen: Relax, Ming Feizhen. Breathe. Don’t deck him.

Some feminine punk had his finger at my nose as he mouthed of at some underground chamber I was led to. The only reason I was fighting the urge to clock him was because Uncle Martial Paragon asserted that the punk was the only one who could make him change his mind.

“Neath, Feizhen, introduce yourselves. You will be helping each other a lot in the coming days. That goes double for you, Neath. Even if you don’t help him, he has alternatives, but you won’t be able to do anything without his aid.”

I inhaled plenty of oxygen into my chest.

“Him?” The fair-faced punk ran his eyes up and down me. “I can’t even stand his face. Oi, what’s your name?”

I cast my gaze to the ceiling: “Qin Babei.”

“Pffthaha, what sort of name is that? Qin Babei… Huh? Dear Dad? Oi, how dare you make a fool out of me, punk?!”

“Not ‘Punk’. Qin. Ba. Bei.”

“I’ll have you executed!”

“Have me executed? Who are you? My King or my mother?!”

The flower boy actually surveyed the surroundings for a blade to chop me, so I waited from a distance, planning to win from a distance.

“Calm down, both of you.” Uncle Martial Paragon held his hand out between us. “Why are you already arguing when you’ve only met each other for the first time?”

“Because! Because!” The pretty boy turned to Uncle Martial Paragon and pushed him. “It’s actually all your fault! You said you were going to find someone to rescue me! I can’t believe I believed you. How can he help me? Get him out of here and help me yourself. Don’t forget that my mother’s elder sister is Uncle Lasuo’s wife. You must help me!”

Is my uncle someone you can push around?! What good is my contract if he’s incapacitated?!

“I can’t help you? What makes you think I can’t help you?” I didn’t know what I was supposed to help with, but you can’t lose the war even if you lose the battle. Besides, how would you know squat about me when we’ve barely met for a minute?

“Because you’re ugly!”

“I’ll smash you!”

“Calm down. Both of you. Feizhen, calm down. If you hit back, you are admitting to the fact. Calm down. You’re a cultured man.”

“I’m okay. I’m okay. It’s nothing. Maybe you need to check your reflection in a bucket of water.”

“Heh, at least I look better than you,” the flower boy clapped back.

“You wouldn’t even place in a good-looks contest in our organisation. You don’t have my Xiao’s beauty. You don’t have Tang Ye’s coolness, either. The only one you’re better looking than is me, hahaha.”

… I furtively wiped my tears.

Uncle Martial Paragon patted my shoulder and whispered, “It’s okay.”

I didn’t ask you to add another attack! Don’t try to comfort people if you don’t know how to!

“Now, let’s talk about what we came here for. We don’t have all day. You two are now acquainted, but let me add some important details… Neath, don’t spit.”

“He spat at me first!”

Uncle Martial Paragon sighed: “I’m not going to bother stopping you two if you can’t get along anymore, but no fighting.”

I surreptitiously slipped the brick I was pulling out back into my sash. Why did I have a brick? They were commonly seen and needed.

“You two need to stop shouting, or you won’t hear me. Of course, if you have something to say, you can raise your hand to object. Otherwise, don’t interrupt me.” Uncle Martial Paragon held his hand out to the smug flower boy. “Allow me to introduce you to Neath, Baimu’s reigning monarch.”

I slung my hand up: “Objection!”

“What are you objecting to? It’s his identity, not your cooperation content.”

“What type of monarch is that snarky? Who voted him in? Have we agreed? Has it been reported to our government? Does he have the approval of our Xiacang Anxi people? I shall lead the protest. Our organisation and the people will take to the streets in a minute to have him abdicate! Did you just spit? I’ll report you for vandalising the environment!”

“Feng Xue, I asked you to help me protect the throne! He wants to lead the insurgence!”

“Neath, don’t underestimate him. Surely you’ve heard of the Central Plain’s three top sects, Shaolin, Wudang and Mount Daluo. All of their adepts are on par with our own. In fact, a number of them are above our Twelve Sacred Beasts. He is Mount Daluo’s next patriarch.”

“H-he is…”

I was all smug until I heard, “He’s the senior of that oddball, Lian Zhuiyue?”

“Huh?”

“A few days ago, your junior came to my place to tell me my state’s taxes are inaccurate as well as the military being corrupt. He also claimed officials hadn’t settled a fight that cost over a hundred lives last month.”

“Serious? Your state is rotten,” I ribbed.

Neath threw his shoe toward my face: “It’s not your business, and it’s not his business. Weirdo writes ten thousand characters and expects me to resolve the issues immediately after I finish reading. I imprisoned him for being stupid and burnt his complaint.”

“He may be rash, but was there a need for you to be so mad?”

“I don’t know that many characters!”

… As his only teacher, I apologise on his behalf.

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I don’t trust this guy. Feng Xue, get him out of here… Not to mention he’s painful to look at.”

Neath’s last line sparked another war of verbal barbs.