[Young Master Xian]—❈—72:: The Royal Banquet [II]

‘How did I get here?’ I wonder not for the first time, as I face the fourteen-year-old girl, 816th Princess, Feng Qiling.

Around us, watching like silent sentinels from the high staircases surrounding the massive courtyard we’re in, the thousands of dignitaries in attendance peer down silently and, in many cases (like The Empress, I note) expectantly.

‘Seriously, how the hell did I get here?’

This was supposed to be a banquet, in my honour, no less. How have I been manipulated into a spar with a princess? And not just any princess, but the so-called royal genius, a fourteen-year-old girl so talented she was born with an ignited cultivation.

Though, thinking back on it now, there was hardly any manipulation involved, was there?

Princess Feng Qiling activates one of her divine rank techniques—

Divine Blade of The Combat Goddess

—and a long, thin sword, clear as ice and radiating an intense cold appears in her grasp.

“Are you prepared, Xian Qigang?” she asks.

The answer to that is no. Not even a little bit. I am nowhere near prepared to fight a fourteen-year-old I met barely an hour ago.

But then I look at Mother, where she stands at the highest level of what has now become an impromptu colosseum, my father and some of my siblings with her.

If I try to dodge this so-called spar, she will probably kill me. Or worse, do something extreme like sign me up for a martial tournament or something.

I have to fight Princess Feng Qiling, the undisputed most talented of all The Empress’ descendants. It is a thing that is happening whether I like it or not, and avoiding it simply means having to do a dozen other things I’ll probably like even less in the near future.

My brother, Ru, standing next to Mother with his wife by his side, waves at me with a smile.

I wave back awkwardly.

Off to the side of them, I see Meng Yi and Xiuying standing by themselves.

Meng Yi gives me a reassuring smile, and Xiuying offers a gesture that is the equivalent of a thumbs up.

I thank them both for their support with a grateful smile, then turn back to Princess Feng Qiling.

A sigh almost escapes me at the sight of her, ready and waiting.

And to think the evening had been going pretty decently too before all this nonsense.

Shaking off the thought, I get serious.

Glory of The Sun

The heat of the technique flows through my body, empowering me and sharpening my focus.

Taking that as an affirmation of my readiness, the princess charges at me and we join in battle.

—❈—

Before things got weird, and I wound up having to fight a fourteen-year-old because my mother has a beef with her great-great-great-great (I might be missing a great or two) grandmother, the evening was actually going pretty well.

We arrived at the Royal Estate about an hour early, which is probably as on time as we could have been to not cause offense to Her Divine Imperiousness, and we were announced into the Great Hall with much fanfare but little drama.

This is one of more than a dozen such halls in the estate, and it has a name, the Hall of Impending Equilibrium. Yeah, the name sounds ominous to me too.

Despite its ominous name though, the hall is beautiful.

It is a massive, rectangular building facing an enormous sunken courtyard the size of two, maybe two-and-a-half football pitches, and it is this same courtyard, in fact, where I would soon be facing Princess Feng Qiling in a spar, though I didn’t know that at the time.

Inside, the Hall of Impending Equilibrium is fancy, with a throne set on a high platform at the head and hundreds of tables arranged for seating.

While not as large in surface area as the courtyard outside, the hall is still vast, and due to qi bullshittery, it needs no pillars to hold up its high vaulted ceilings, making the space feel even more vast.

There was a table set up for the Xian family, and my parents and siblings, namely Ru, Zexi, and Weiju sat there, along with Ru’s wife, a rather quiet woman named Sun Min.

My three oldest sisters sat with their husbands’ families.

I thought it was a gender thing, at first, but then I remembered a little thing that Meng Yi had mentioned to me when we were working on Xiuying’s employee contract back in Silver Springs about the importance of contracts.

I’ve read up some more about it myself, and, apparently, marriages in this world, especially among powerful cultivator families can be very contractual.

It dictates all sorts of things, like who, if anyone, will take the other’s family name, whose family line the children will belong to, who has the authority in the marriage, it can get pretty crazy.

From the looks of things, my oldest sisters were married off to their husbands’ families (fellow ‘Great’ families like ours I suspect), while Ru’s wife was married into ours.

Like with most things in this society, it seems to come down to power, or at least one’s potential for it, seeing as Ru is divine rank, the only one of my siblings who is, in fact, and only he seems to be worthwhile enough in our mother’s eyes to not trade for whatever political or financial gain she traded my sisters for.

Meng Yi, Xiuying, and I didn’t sit with my family.

Both women aren’t here in their capacity as my attendants, since culturally, it’s considered rude to bring a servant when attending an event, especially of someone like The Empress herself.

The implication being that you consider your host’s magnanimity and affluence insufficient for them to meet your needs.

Ergo, Meng Yi and Xiuying are fellow invitees like myself, and even more, this event is in honour of all three of us.

Although, I was fairly certain that mine was the only name that would be mentioned tonight.

Since we’re the guests of honour, we got to sit in a position of honour; by The Empress herself.

Well, at least, I did.

The Empress’ table was a crazy long one in front of the throne at the head of the ballroom. It had the same triangular design as the one my family had dinner on last night, though it was much longer.

Meng Yi and Xiuying were relegated to the far end of it, well out of sight, while I got the great ‘honour’ of sitting one person away from Her Divine Dickiness herself.

It was almost amusing how obviously we were both trying to not react to each other in anything but polite casualness, and how much everyone was pretending they couldn’t see we were both trying.

I took my place to her immediate left; the same one I’d had during the family dinner last night, and to my immediate left, sat the 816th Princess, Feng Qiling.

At the time I had no real idea who she was, though her obvious youth paired with her impressive divine rank cultivation at the peak of Weaving, along with her position at the table, clued me in that she was definitely someone of note.

The princess hadn't talked much, to me or anyone else, though if I had known then that I would be fighting her barely an hour later, I would have tried a lot harder to befriend her.

Thankfully, though it was kind of ruined by how the night turned out, there wasn't really any drama at the table.

I was pulled into conversation, yes, but all of it was polite and unintrusive.

There were no masked allegations, no snide remarks, no invasive questions disguised as curiosity, nothing. Everything was perfectly fine.

Before the dinner, The Empress made a speech announcing our accomplishments to the room, her voice carrying smoothly across the massive space in a way that could not possibly be natural.

Meng Yi, Xiuying, and I lined up before her and she thanked us for our service to The Empire and then gave us the gifts that we’d known she was going to, a divine rank Ironwood Berry for me, and noble rank for my friends.

The hall applauded politely.

The food came and we ate, Xiuying, Meng Yi and I the only ones at the table not eating divine rank food. And it was at some point during this meal with so many courses that I lost count that it happened.

I wasn't even talking to Princess Qiling at the time, hell, I wasn’t talking to anybody.

There was a mild debate that seemed to have drawn the interest of half the table.

The topic of said debate was surprisingly juvenile: which weapon is the coolest?

Of course, they tried to mask it as some sort of enlightened discussion about the utility and historical significance of these weapons, but at the end of the day, it was essentially an argument among adults about which weapon is cooler.

Not that I begrudged them their fun. in fact it was nice to see them be so human.

Anyway, they seemed to have arrived at two final contenders, the single-edged sabre, and the double-edged straight sword.

And this was when, out of nowhere, seeing as she hadn't been participating in the conversation either, Princess Qiling turned to me and asked, “Which do you prefer, Seventh Young Master Xian?”

Even stranger, everyone stopped and looked to me, waiting for my reply, as though I was some sort of expert on martial arts or weapons.

“Uh, I don’t really have a preference,” I said. “I don’t use weapons.”

If I had the curiosity of the table before, I had their attention now.

The older man directly across the table from me, 16th Prince, Feng Chun; a grandson, if I'm not mistaken, of Empress Feng Lingxian, asked, “How do you fight then?”

I stared at the man for five solid seconds, wondering if he was fucking with me, but nope, somehow, this ancient cultivator, no doubt centuries old, couldn’t comprehend that a person could fight without a sword in hand.

“I use my fists,” I said slowly, miming a punch. “I punch. And kick.”

“And why does your opponent not separate you from your fists and feet?” 42nd Prince, Feng Tai asked from a few places down.

That was actually a very good question. “Well, they would grow back, so I don’t think it would do them much good,” I said.

“Doesn’t it?” 16th Prince, Feng Chun asked. “Surely your constitution is not so impressive as to regrow a limb in the middle of battle swiftly enough to avoid being disadvantaged.”

I thought about that for a second. “I’m pretty sure I could regrow my arm in less than a second if I set my mind to it,” I said, all of my instincts supporting the claim.

If I could go back in time, I would punch myself in the face for saying those words.

My claim drew more interest from the table.

I suspected that it wasn't saying that I could regenerate severed limbs that was the big thing, any sufficiently powerful cultivator could manage that given enough time. But that was the caveat; given enough time.

Regrowing a severed limb was a serious matter that appropriately took time. Saying I could do it in less than a second was a significant boast.

A significant, stupid boast.

Princess Feng Qiling said then, “We should spar. Test your constitution against my blade.”

Her request had taken me by surprise, but I had recovered well enough and gone for the polite refusal: “I don’t know if that would be the best idea, Princess, what with you being a divine rank genius and I a mere noble rank with a somewhat noteworthy gimmick. I fear I would not make an entertaining or educational opponent for you.”

“I am not sparring you to learn or be entertained,” Princess Qiling said. “I am giving you the opportunity to prove your claim. You’ve made a tall boast about your constitution, it is only proper you back it up with evidence.”

She didn’t say the words as a gotcha or anything like that, simply as a matter of fact.

“Besides,” she added, “you are a cultivator in the second layer of Sprouting who has tasted enlightenment while I still remain in the fifth layer of Weaving. I would wager that you are not entirely bereft of things to teach me.”

And that she said like a gotcha.

Fuck!

I sighed. “Very well then,” I admitted defeat. “Let’s spar.”

Of course, when I said, ‘let’s spar,’ I didn’t mean right then.

I meant at some nebulous point in the (hopefully) far future.

So naturally, Empress Feng Lingxian rose, sending the gentle hum of conversation across the hall silent.

“Seventh Young Master Xian Qigang has decided on a spar with Our descendant, 816th Princess, Feng Qiling,” she said. “In Our magnanimity, We shall give them Our audience and the opportunity to showcase their skill before Us and their peers.

“The spar shall take place in the courtyard of the Hall of Impending Equilibrium in fifteen minutes.”

The Empress left the table then, quickly followed by the two dozen or so members of her family seated here, and as I watched them all go, I couldn’t help but wonder, ‘what the fuck just happened, and why am I the only one who looks surprised that it did?’

—❈——❈——❈——❈—

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A/N:: Thanks for reading.

So sorry for the ridiculous wait. I hope this chapter was fun at least.