Chapter 440 Extra: Ge Quan x Fang Jinrong 9

Chapter 440: Extra Story - Ge Quan x Fang Jinrong 9

"Brother Mu, you're here early. I heard the Tuyuhun treasure is in the Round Moon Sect's hands—is that really true?"

"Brother Zhao, you're pretty direct. Mind telling me where you heard that?"

"Heh heh, our Changfeng Mountain Villa has our own connections. Brother Mu hasn't answered my question yet."

"Changfeng Mountain Villa just got into town. If you stayed a couple more days, you wouldn't be asking—you'd already know."

"So the treasure really is with the Round Moon Sect!"

"Indeed. The Round Moon Sect has announced they'll hold a martial arts tournament, and the victor will claim the Tuyuhun treasure."

Early this morning, Ji Wunian went to give Ding Ling acupuncture. She decided to first suppress one toxin, then deal with the other. Ge Quan, meanwhile, took Fang Jinrong wandering around Jincheng, sampling all kinds of street food and hearing plenty of gossip along the way.

Fang Jinrong was all ears. "You gonna join that tournament too?"

Ge Quan straightened the white fur collar on Fang Jinrong's neck that had gotten crooked from eating. "No. Once Ji Wunian's done healing Ding Ling, we're heading back to Changping."

He leaned close to Fang Jinrong, his eyes full of both joy and nerves. "To ask your family for your hand."

"My father definitely won't agree," Fang Jinrong said bluntly.

Ge Quan's eyes dimmed. "That's true."

"Then we'll just elope!" Fang Jinrong said, dropping a bombshell.

Ge Quan: "!"

He found it both touching and funny. "Wouldn't your family hate me even more then?"

Fang Jinrong wore a rare white fox fur hat, the soft fluff making him look even more innocent and pure. "As long as I like you, that's what matters!" he said casually.

"Rong'er."

Ge Quan said his name, heavy with emotion.

"What?"

Ge Quan got a private room upstairs in the restaurant, pulled Fang Jinrong into his arms, and kissed him senseless. He didn't know any other way to let out the joy that was about to burst out of him.

"I heard you've been thinking about taking bounty contracts lately." After they returned, Xue Bing approached Ge Quan.

Ge Quan's pockets were empty, but he didn't look embarrassed at all. "I'm obviously not as loaded as you big-sect disciples. Bounty contracts are easy enough."

Xue Bing tried to persuade him. "In the past, you and Uncle Ge lived for the moment, drinking today and damn tomorrow. But now that you're planning to settle down, you should have a proper way to make a living. Otherwise, it won't look good when you face your future father-in-law. I've mentioned this in my letters several times—have you really never thought about joining our Round Moon Sect? With your skills, you could easily become a Protector."

Except for certain sects hidden deep in the mountains, most sects had their own businesses—the more disciples, the bigger the business. After all, no matter how great your kung fu is, you still gotta eat.

Ge Quan had never cared about such things before, but now he actually listened. "I heard the Tuyuhun treasure is in your Round Moon Sect's hands?"

Xue Bing smiled. "What, you wanna fight for it too? Our sect's four great protectors aren't to be messed with."

"No interest. But aren't you worried that putting the word out will bring too many people and you won't be able to handle it?" Ge Quan asked calmly.

Xue Bing stood with his hands behind his back, a knowing smile on his lips. "You still don't understand how the big sects do things. If our sect tried to hide it, they'd get suspicious. By putting the news out openly, they won't dare make a move. Besides, this thing's a hot potato—my master doesn't wish to keep it any longer."

"That's good then." Ge Quan still had some unanswered questions, but he didn't bother digging deeper.

Xue Bing continued, "In about half a month, most people who're supposed to come to Jincheng will be here. The tournament will be held at Guaizi Slope north of the city. We'll send out invitations to all the heroes, with each sect allowed to send up to three fighters."

"Three?" Ge Quan seemed thoughtful. "That's fair. But what about lone wolves without a sect?"

Xue Bing was surprised he was genuinely interested in the tournament and went into detail. "Rogue martial artists without a sect, if they wish to participate, must first pass through our Round Moon Sect's Chiyin Mountain and retrieve a snow blossom. To encourage participation, the Sect Leader also said anyone who finds it gets five hundred taels of silver."

A flicker of surprise flashed through Ge Quan's eyes. "Your sect really knows how to throw money around."

Five hundred taels—that was way cleaner than taking random bounty contracts. It seemed made for these wandering fighters.

Half a month later, the qualifiers for the rogue martial artists started at Chiyin Mountain. Among the ragged bunch of wandering fighters armed with swords, spears, and blades, Ge Quan stood out—empty-handed and good-looking.

Fang Jinrong and Ji Wunian sat in a pavilion the Round Moon Sect had built outside Chiyin Mountain, snacking on dried fruits and rooting for Ge Quan.

"Aren't you worried?" Ji Wunian grabbed a handful of dried dates and lazily watched the crowd charging into the valley. Most were unfamiliar faces—rogue warriors tended to be loners and rarely had friends. Ge Quan was practically the most social one there.

Fang Jinrong, bundled in heavy clothing, held a small shallow woven grass basket, slightly bigger than a palm, eating the raisins and hazelnuts inside one at a time. "Brother Quan said he'd be back by the time I finish this basket."

A woman beside them with a sharp chin and rosy cheeks laughed. "Brother Ge is way too confident. Chiyin Mountain is the sacred ground of our Round Moon Sect—the ice valleys, wind tunnels, and hidden rivers are all natural hazards. Not to mention that Junior Brothers will go deep inside to mess with the challengers. Even our senior brother would need at least an hour to get out." Ding Ling's toxins had been completely flushed out, though her body was still weak. With Xue Bing and the other senior disciples busy with the tournament, she'd been assigned the easy task of keeping the guests company.

Fang Jinrong ignored her, just kept counting the dried fruits in his basket as he ate. "Fifty-seven, fifty-eight..."

Time slowly passed. When only seven or eight dried fruits remained in Fang Jinrong's basket, a stir went through the crowd. He looked up and saw a familiar black figure already emerging from the valley, holding a cluster of red berries on a branch, heading straight toward them.

Fang Jinrong's eyes lit up with joy. He grabbed the remaining dried fruits in his hand and sprinted over to Ge Quan.

Ge Quan moved even faster than him. The two embraced shamelessly, not caring who was watching. Fang Jinrong fed the remaining dried fruits into Ge Quan's mouth in one go. "Made it in time."

Ge Quan pinched his wind-chapped rosy cheek. "I promised you, so I kept my word."

Ever since they met, Ge Quan had never once broken a promise to Fang Jinrong. That was why Fang Jinrong trusted him—no matter what others said, it couldn't sway him one bit.

Chiyin Mountain really earned its reputation as sacred ground. Aside from Ge Quan, of the hundred or so rogue martial artists who entered, only about a dozen made it out that day. As Fang Jinrong and the others were leaving, Ding Ling was putting together a search party to go in.

"Is it really that hard?" Fang Jinrong only now realized how tough it really was.

Ge Quan's brows knitted. "Hard, yes. But not so hard that only this many should've made it out."

Ji Wunian interjected, "I saw Zhou Sifang go in too. He's one of the best second-rate fighters—he didn't make it out either?"

Fang Jinrong didn't care about anyone else and just shrugged and guessed, "Maybe he fell into a frozen river."

Ji Wunian blinked, then shook his head with a chuckle. "That's possible too."

Ge Quan glanced back at the white peak of Chiyin Mountain, feeling like he was missing something weird. "Ding Ling is already safe. These next couple of days, let's buy some stuff for the trip and then head back."

The Round Moon Sect had no intention of clinging to the Tuyuhun treasure, but they still cared about who got it.

Xue Bing was in a fierce fight on the stage with a man wearing a white cotton robe and a red mask. Both were top-tier second-rate fighters. Nobody knew where the red-masked man came from, but Xue Bing was a rising star of the younger generation—tied for third place on the Jianghu Heroes Ranking with Cen Yue, the senior disciple of Taihang Sect. His skills were undeniable. Yet the red-masked man could go toe-to-toe with him and even seemed to be gradually suppressing Xue Bing.

The match had the crowd below on the edge of their seats. Fang Jinrong didn't understand what was happening, so he climbed onto Ge Quan's back to see what was going on. Ge Quan carried him at the edge of the crowd, his eyes fixed past the stage. "He's a top-tier master. Xue Bing is going to lose."

Ji Wunian was stunned. "Top-tier? Aside from you, there's another top-tier master this young?"

In the martial world, people valued having a good reason for their actions. Seizing treasure by force wasn't a good look, hence the tournament. The sect leaders wouldn't stoop so low as to compete personally, so the rules required each sect to send members under thirty-five to fight.

Under thirty-five, even reaching second-rate was super rare. Those who did were all on the Jianghu Heroes Ranking—but even the top-ranked monk Wujiu of Shaolin was only a top second-rate fighter.

As if confirming Ge Quan's words, Ji Wunian looked back at the stage to see Xue Bing on his last legs, blood spreading across his gray fur clothes. The red-masked man, however, fought with more and more ferocity, his twin daggers moving so fast they were almost invisible blurs, stabbing holes into Xue Bing's body every chance he got. Xue Bing swung his long sword desperately to defend, but the next moment, a flash of silver light appeared before his eyes—the blade was thrusting straight toward his eyes.

A "clang!"—the sword's cry rang out as the short dagger in the red-masked man's hand flew from his grip, sailing into the crowd, nearly skewering a bystander.

"Who is it!" The red-masked man's deep voice thundered across the arena, showing off his formidable inner power.

Fang Jinrong rubbed his chest, his brows knitted in discomfort. "I'm not feeling well."

Ge Quan's eyes went cold. He carefully set Fang Jinrong down. "Ji Wunian, take care of Rong'er for me."

"Go on, then." Ji Wunian wasn't much of a fighter, and his chest had twinged a moment ago too.

"Senior Brother!"

Members of the Round Moon Sect leaped onto the stage one after another, shielding Xue Bing, looking ready to tear the red-masked man limb from limb. The tournament was supposed to be a friendly bout—no one had been badly hurt since yesterday. Yet this man, with his superior skill, had viciously tried to blind Xue Bing.

But Xue Bing was the strongest of the Round Moon Sect's younger disciples. If he couldn't hold his own, no one else could.

"I'm fine." Xue Bing clutched his chest and forced himself to his feet, said to Ge Quan, who was hurrying over. "Ge Quan, it doesn't matter who claims the treasure, but it can't be someone from You City. Please, help me out—the Round Moon Sect will owe you one."

"Enough. Go rest." Even without Xue Bing's plea, Ge Quan was itching to test this You City master.

Xue Bing's face lit up. As his junior brothers helped him off the stage, he even tossed Ge Quan his ever-present longsword. "He's tough. You've got no sword—take my Xuanbing Sword."

Ge Quan started to take it, then spotted a tall, burly man pushing through the crowd, and lobbed the ornate silver sword back. "No need. My sword's already been delivered."

"Quite the VIP, huh? You had me, Fragrant Mountain's top swordsmith, hand-deliver your sword."

Fengzhong trudged up to the stage, travel-worn, and wordlessly chucked a long black cloth bundle at Ge Quan, shooting him a resentful look.

Ge Quan unwrapped it to reveal a pitch-black longsword. He twirled it in a smooth flourish. "Thanks."

"Skip the thanks. Just come to Fragrant Mountain and chop up those bandits squatting there." Fengzhong was still pissed about the gangs of thugs he'd run into on the road.

"My master's in Lingnan too. Mind looking out for him?"

Ge Quan added, then, knowing Fengzhong's ego, threw in a subtle compliment: "Of all my friends, I trust your skills most."

A weird smile tugged at Fengzhong's lips. "Oh, stop. I'm not that great—just riding on everyone's praise for my forging."

He then looked at Ge Quan expectantly.

Ge Quan: "…"

Fengzhong's face fell, and he turned to go. "Forget it. I'm off to the inn to rest. Why's the northwest so damn cold?"

Ge Quan exhaled. "I'll swing by later."

A thousand li just to deliver a sword—only free spirits like Fengzhong and Ge Quan would do that.

The red-masked man, silent since Ge Quan took the stage, covertly glanced at a spot below while they talked. A group was slowly closing in on Fang Jinrong.

A weird smile curled under his mask. "You wanna fight me? I didn't see you with the sects yesterday."

"I'm not with any sect." With that, Ge Quan slowly took a sword stance. "I'm coming for you."

The instant he moved, the sword's cry outran the blade—shrill, piercing, rattling hearts—but it stayed contained on the stage, leaving the crowd below untouched.

One strike was enough to wipe the red-masked man's smirk. He couldn't counter—had no chance to—only run.

Xue Bing, still propped up by his junior brothers and refusing to leave, was just as stunned. He hadn't seen Ge Quan in years and had no idea he'd reached first-rate, even outclassing the You City red-masked man.

"Shit!"

Ignoring his injuries, he rushed out—only to find the spot where Fang Jinrong and Ji Wunian had stood was empty.

From Ge Quan stepping on stage to piercing the red-masked man's wrist, barely enough time to brew a cup of tea had passed.

The crowd below went dead silent. Friend or stranger, everyone stared at Ge Quan with the same disbelief and fear.

The martial world had no more than ten known first-rate masters, all of them leaders or elders of major sects. More importantly, they were all over fifty. Even counting hermits, the whole kingdom of Yu couldn't scrape together twenty first-rate masters.

How old was Ge Quan? And he was already top-tier?

The crowd held its breath, staring at the red-masked man collapsed at the stage's edge—

He was top of the top-tier!

The red-masked man had lost, but didn't look discouraged. Instead, he let out a weird, cryptic laugh. "You trust your buddy that much?"

Ge Quan was confused. He glanced casually at the crowd—and his face went pale. Fang Jinrong and Ji Wunian were gone from where they'd been waiting.

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