66 Challenge Accepted (2/2)

Meng Fuyao lifted her eyes to look at him and couldn't understand the deep, mysterious expression in his eyes. She wanted to open her mouth to speak, but felt an astringent taste in her throat, which entered her mouth. It was bitterer than the wine she had tasted earlier.

Yet, she smiled even wider than before. She boldly approached Yuan Zhaoxu and affectionately hit his arm. ”Can't tell, but you do actually plan quite a bit for me, huh?”

”If your heart isn't with me, what's the point of pleading?” Yuan Zhaoxu asked, calmly drinking his tea. ”I have crossed half of Wuji Nation and rushed from Zhongzhou to Yaocheng, only to receive those few sentences from you, what else can I do but to give up?”

Meng Fuyao was speechless, her eyes as open as a dead fish. 'Is he... is he angry?'

She was stumped for words, and Yuan Zhaoxu remained silent as well. The atmosphere turned stiff and almost suffocating.

Yuan Zhaoxu lightly tapped his fingers on the armrest, its rhythm sounding like a song. He raised his head slightly to gaze at the gold and yellow-tinted clouds flitting across the horizon, thinking back to many, many years ago where he had played that exact tune. He had only played it once in his entire life and hadn't imagined at that point that he would get to perform it once more for others.

He smiled briefly, but the expression in his eyes cooled down gradually. His hardened look had blossomed into something faintly chilly.

Again, that expression made Meng Fuyao feel a little guilty. She turned her head in embarrassment. Unexpectedly, she heard a cheer from below and immediately saw a figure on a horse that made a detour before galloping away, fast as lightning. The horseman was holding a bow and shooting arrows, and incessantly executing different tricks: straight shot, lateral shot, inverted shot, lying across the horse's belly shot, jumping onto the horse's head to shoot. Numerous tricks and skillful techniques had been engaged from different angles, but every arrow hit the bull's eye without fail, evoking cheers from the dumbstruck audience.

After all, 10 arrows were shot, the horseman proudly halt on the horse. He turned his head — his facial features were filled with heroic spirit and his physique was tall and sturdy. He was a strong, ferocious young man. He raised the bow in his hand and flashed past Meng Fuyao abruptly.

Thinking that he was paying his respects, Meng Fuyao smilingly waved her hands to accept it.

He raised his hands again.

Again, Meng Fuyao waved her hands, but slightly strangely this time around. 'Isn't he being a little too enthusiastic? Why that look in his eyes?'

That young man raised his eyebrows, snorted loudly, raised up the bow in his hand and waved energetically at Meng Fuyao for the third time.

Meng Fuyao raised her hands halfway and felt something amiss... 'This doesn't seem like a greeting...'

Yuan Zhaoxu, who was by her side, explained casually, ”It is the Rongsmen's way of issuing a challenge.”

Meng Fuyao glared at Yuan Zhaoxu before standing up and commenting angrily, ”Damn, how dares this stupid watermelon come challenge me?”

She strode off the stage. Not taking a single look at that young man who was full of arrogance, she went straight to the center of the public square, immediately stirring the excitement of the citizen.

That young man, Tie Cheng, was acknowledged as the best archer in Yaocheng and purportedly, no rival had been able to beat him. He was deeply respected by the Rong people, who at that moment were staring at Meng Fuyao with disdain.

'Such a scrawny novice. Becoming a mayor through connections within the imperial court, and then overestimating his own capabilities. How dare he accept the challenge of our godly archer!?'

Excited to see how this novice was about to be humiliated in front of their godly archer, the Rong people attempted to squeeze their way to the front. They wouldn't want to miss the chance to mock her firsthand.

Tie Cheng gazed at Meng Fuyao, not attempting to conceal his interest and contempt at all. With a loud voice, he said, ”With all respect to you, Mayor, I, Tie Cheng have never lost once in this festival. If you allow me to lose once, I will offer my life and soul to you for the rest of my life!”

'Blah, blah, blah.. Who cares about your life and soul!' Meng Fuyao ignored his words and entered the crowd without hesitation.

Yuan Zhaoxu, who was still on the stage, leaned over to look and waved his hand. Right away, a few men who wore ordinary clothes blended into the crowd, ready to protect her at all times.

With large strides, Meng Fuyao approached that young man. Not saying anything further, she snatched the bow in his hands, and with the last arrow in his quiver, she nocked that arrow. Standing firm to the ground, with the right techniques, she took aim.

Someone sniggered immediately. Tie Cheng could shoot the arrows while moving. Shooting on the move was a hundred times harder than shooting from a fixed spot. This weakling had already lost in this aspect.

Meng Fuyao pretended not to notice it but felt a little melancholic and jittery. Her nervousness seemed to have transformed into a sharp arrow that was blocking her chest and suffocating her. She laughed grimly while slowly pulling the bow. Amid the jeering, she took aim.

Within her line of vision, the iron arrowhead projected a straight line, toward the infinitesimal bull's eye that was instantly being magnified. The tunnel vision allowed Meng Fuyao to fix her eyes on the target, but her mental concentration was gradually dispersing.