Martial King's Retired Life

Volume 11 Chapter 102 I’m Not Retreating (Part 2)

Luoyang’s Feng Clan was famous for their immense wealth and stable of competent descendants since the previous dynasty. They had been linked to those in the political arena for more than one generation, which was why their influence rivalled the Seven Champion White Princes despite not being conferred the title themselves.

Patriarch Feng Jia, although respected in all of Luoyang for his swordplay, was now close to eighty years of age, but nobody would try to see if he was still as formidable as he was in his youth because they wouldn’t want to risk their neck getting past his attendants. His wits deserved to be celebrated as much as his skill with a sword for he had pushed his clan to an all-time high. In addition, despite all the factions and machinations in the imperial court, nobody could tempt him to their side, yet nobody would lay a hand on them. In fact, he didn’t even bother interacting much with his nephew-in-law. They didn’t call him Iron-Face Gentleman for nothing.

Although Feng Xue’s mother wasn’t even officially Feng Jia’s wife or even considered a concubine - she was just his main wife’s maid - he was Feng Jia’s oldest son. His mother was pregnant with him before Feng Jia’s main wife was pregnant, and the doctor even told them she had a boy. Sadly, the term “gaudy” was never something they had the privilege of enjoying.

Feng Xue - real name Feng Jie - wasn’t attached to Feng Clan in a good way. His father also had his brows knitted whenever they met. Feng Jia considered his son to be a blemish on his perfect life. Naturally, they hardly spoke. His brothers didn’t treat him any better.

The stereotypical young master temperament was one Feng Jie didn’t associate with, while his desire to be free and about in the martial world wasn’t typically a primary goal for young masters of made clans. The prim white robes, expensive mount, decked out sword, jade, gold and silver jewellery… wasn’t the real Feng Jie. If it were up to him, he’d replace all those items with a jug of wine he’d drink the majority of, and he’d replace his horse with a camel. Instead of walking around with decorum, he’d have rather drank until he had to puke, pass out, then wake up and eat. If you imagined a typical drunkard, you might be imagining him.

The son of a mistress, much less just a maid the patriarch decided to take fancy to for a while, should never have had any prerogative to inherit the patriarch seat, but Feng Jie shone too bright for anyone to miss in an era where might was highly regarded.

Feng Jia never saw any hope for Feng Jie as a martial artist. Little did he know, his son learnt everything on his first try. There was no such thing as a weapon Feng Jie wasn’t good at. When he heard, “Brother Jie never loses in fights,” or “King of Kids”, he just brushed it off. How was a kid who never learnt martial arts supposed to be King of Kids among Feng Clan’s kids? Did being a little taller than average suddenly make you an invincible fighter?

To say Feng Jie just had a knack for martial arts would be downplaying his efforts because he’d invest eight hours when others invested two. When talent meets hard work, “magic” is produced. Feng Jia only realised he had been underestimating his son when Feng Jie beat all four of his brothers simultaneously at twelve years of age. Subsequently, Feng Jia penned a letter and had Feng Jie set off for the east coast, where he was supposed to undertake training from an old friend.

As a swordsman who practiced a refined swordplay, it wasn’t surprising Feng Jia wanted his son to follow his path. In saying that, he hadn’t changed his mind about Feng Xue. His motivation for sending Feng Xue off to train was so that Feng Xue could become his younger brother’s shield and sword in the future.

Feng Jie, then eighteen, happened to return when Luoyang’s Grand Martial Arts Tournament was being held for all the youths of Luoyang. Feng Clan started off with a massive loss. Then, even the one called their prodigy, sixteen year old Feng Hang, suffered a defeat. Feng Clan’s elders were all miserable when Feng Jie grabbed a broom lying around, went in the ring and put out the lights of the chubby young man who demolished Feng Clan. Feng Jie then went on to defeat seventeen more opponents. Most impressive, nevertheless, was the fact that he didn’t even break a sweat. At this point, Feng Jia realised he had sunk his own ship.

Feng Jie’s sense of justice, loyalty, honour and affable demeanour magnetised people toward him, increasing his influence within the clan, as well. When he began life as an adventurer, he spread his fame without going out of his way to. Accordingly, he became a walking billboard for Feng Clan. Everyone outside the clan believed he would lead Feng Clan in the future, unaware leadership would be passed to Feng Jia’s second eldest son.

“Why should you get to inherit the reins? Just because you’re the main wife’s son?” Feng Jia’s second son could seemingly hear people saying when he ventured out of the estate. Jealousy breeds hatred. In the end, he decided to nip the problem in the bud. He had Feng Jie and his father’s concubine meet up, then stormed in on their “tryst” with his clansmen to catch Feng Jie in the act. To protect their reputation, Feng Clan would have to exile Feng Jie. It was perfect - on paper, at least.

At first, Feng Xue was confused. Upon coming around, he laughed in the scowl of his brother and cronies who made up his faction in the clan. Sure, they were breathing a little hard since they had to rush to the scene before Feng Xue left, but he laughed so hard it seemed he was the one who caught them having an affair, rendering his brother bewildered.

Once Feng Xue stopped laughing, he snatched up a broom nearby and pointed at his brother. “You freaking tard!” Boy, did he thrash his brother that day. Next, he stripped his brother and hung him off Luoyang’s city walls. Why try to reason with someone who didn’t want to reason?

Unsurprisingly, Feng Jia was so mad that he raced out the door. Feng Jie only needed a single palm strike to stop his venerated father and then said prior to his departure, “Your house is too small for me. Laters.”

Feng Xue enjoyed his freedom to the max until he met her in Nanjiang. Though she was no peerless beauty, she was still nice on the eyes. Her temperament, though… One glance and you could tell she was hard to get along with, yet… what can a man do when his heart says, “She’s the one?”

He remembered she asked him no their wedding day, “Baimu is but a small state; I don’t have much of a dowry to give you… Are… you still willing to marry me?”

“Hahaha, you dork.” Feng Jie picked up his bashful wife and planted a passionate kiss on her.

He never told her he picked her up from the depths of hell but that he went to hell and back for her. He would never tell her that for, like her, he was also a silly lovesick man.

He knew he was springing a trap set for him when he received word that his wife was kidnapped ten years ago in Nieyao; however, he had no recourse. In the cursed city, she smiled as she softly urged, “Leave.”

Feng Xue hugged her and gave a reply, one that would cost him his arm and his skills. Reflecting on it, his decision could be perceived as a wrong one.

Had he kept his arm, he probably didn’t need to wait for Ming Feizhen and company to resolve his grudge.

Had he taken the path his wife told him to take, perhaps the invincible general would still be able to make men quake in their boots at the mention of his name.

Had he learnt to be as sly as he was today, perhaps the present would be different.

“Look above Wazi’s head!”

Dark swirling clouds lapped the sky above Wazi. Nobody noticed Wazi conjuring natural lightning from the sky until the clouds formed. No doubt, the lightning strike would be stronger than any previous blast. Judging from the circumference of the clouds, if the lightning column did descend, nobody present would survive.

It was already too late by the time Hong Jiu turned around and saw Feng Xue, who was far from him. “Elder, run!”

Feng Xue’s choice from ten years ago crossed the barrier of time to reach the present. “I’m not retreating.”