CHAPTER 320: CHAPTER 16 DWARF AND VASSAL KING_3

For example, I just prodded you a little, applied a tiny bit more pressure, and as a result, you started dancing to my tune.

This little trick was something my very clever blind friend told me. Those who play mind games are all dirty."

"There are several words I didn’t quite grasp, but I think I understand the general meaning. Did I fall into your trap?"

"Yes."

"Then, what are you doing all this for?"

"Because I’m an assassin."

"Oh?"

"And I’m also checking to see if perhaps my companions outside have already breached the city walls."

"Is that so?"

"The most important reason is that I now have the time and the opportunity. Plus, you’re being so cooperative. One has to ensure all potential issues are flushed out, right?"

"Some of it I understand, some of it I don’t."

"I’m already standing before you, Prince. You know, as an assassin, having to fight someone openly, face-to-face... I really dislike this feeling."

"This Prince can appreciate that."

"So, I had to be sure. Only then could I be confident."

"And are you sure now?"

"Yes, I’m sure. Prince, you are very strong."

"You’ve told this Prince that already."

"But you don’t know how to fight."

"..." Prince Fu.

"That’s right, you don’t know how to fight, hahaha."

Prince Fu’s face first showed surprise, then understanding, and he said, "Indeed."

A very strong person who doesn’t know how to fight—this might seem like a great contradiction, yet it’s also extremely normal.

If fighting were merely about two people standing opposite each other, comparing whose cultivation level was higher, with the higher-level individual automatically winning, then the world would be far too orderly.

Why are disciples from some martial sects often sent down from the mountains for practical experience? Because masters cultivated in seclusion often don’t live up to their supposed prowess.

A master who can’t fight is just for show.

Of course, Prince Fu was also a product of such isolated cultivation. Because he was a vassal prince, his role was to be a well-kept pig: live a life of debauchery and luxury. He was expected to indulge in countless beautiful women, father many children to expand the Zhao Family lineage, and, from time to time, even abduct a commoner girl or bully the local peasants to deliberately tarnish his own reputation.

That was the life of a vassal prince. If you were to be courteous to the wise and condescending to the scholarly, if you possessed both civil and military talents, if you harbored grand ambitions, or if you naively believed that because your surname was Zhao, you had a duty to contribute to the nation and its people...

Well, I’m afraid the Silver Armored Guard’s white silk might descend upon you, or an Imperial Edict to reduce your fiefdom would arrive.

Therefore, when Prince Fu practiced martial arts, he could only do so secretly, behind closed doors. The idea of roaming the world with a sword, seeking experience, was practically impossible. Even on ordinary days within the Royal Mansion, he had to meticulously conceal the fact that he knew martial arts.

Furthermore, there was another shade to Prince Fu’s situation: he consumed potent concoctions.

Xue Three, being adept with poisons, naturally dabbled in the medicinal arts as well. Prince Fu’s corpulence was vastly different from Hui Wenzu’s. Fatty Hui was genuinely and solidly fat, whereas Prince Fu’s fatness was more akin to ’the moon’s reflection in water’—seemingly substantial but ultimately illusory. Xue Three speculated that Prince Fu’s extreme corpulence might not solely be an attempt to adhere to the imperial court’s ’guiding policy’ of treating vassal princes like fattened pigs. It could very well be a side effect of consuming those concoctions. After all, when Xue Three had realized that the recovery of his own strength was linked to his lord’s cultivation level, he himself had briefly considered using such concoctions to forcibly elevate my lord’s rank. However, the blind man had promptly discovered this notion and sternly warned him against it. Now, here was a living example of such consumption right before his eyes.

However, for a vassal prince, with the accumulated wealth of several generations, to be ’crying poverty’ after using these concoctions—it spoke volumes about just how exorbitant their cost truly was. Those pills and elixirs, those heavenly materials and earthly treasures, were certainly not cheap. Indeed, some items were difficult to procure even if one had the money.

An image involuntarily surfaced in Xue Three’s mind: my lord, transformed into a bloated figure like the one before him... Hah, what a sight that would be! If that truly happened, Siniang would probably have trouble even finding a spot for her needles.

"Is there anything else to talk about?" Xue Three asked.

"This Prince is a bit hungry," Prince Fu said.

"That’s off the table. We don’t offer that service."

"Then there’s not much left to discuss."

"Mm."

Xue Three silently reached out and gripped the two daggers he had earlier thrust into the ground.

Then, BANG!

The instant he plucked the daggers free, Xue Three lunged at Prince Fu.

Prince Fu threw his arms out horizontally, a powerful surge of vital energy erupting from him. However, Xue Three’s figure abruptly paused, then shot upward into the air.

"Heh."

Prince Fu let out a cold sneer.

His corpulent body swiftly pivoted, both fists punching out, striking at the space behind him.

He had been anticipating this feint from Xue Three, waiting for him to descend so he could unleash a direct blast of his potent vital energy. This energy was overwhelmingly strong, enough to make one’s heart pound.

However, a silver thread, almost invisible, seemed to be attached to the dagger in Xue Three’s left hand. Its other end was anchored to the spot where the daggers had previously been embedded in the ground.

This was a premeditated maneuver!

The tug of the silver thread caused Xue Three’s body to swivel in mid-air. Then, like a nimble fish propelling itself with a powerful flick, he abruptly changed direction and shot down vertically, landing right in front of Prince Fu.

Prince Fu, however, was still striking at the air behind him.

SHK!

Xue Three’s dagger plunged into Prince Fu’s chest, directly over his heart. Without the slightest pause, Xue Three kicked off the ground, leaping back several meters. He steadied himself with a single hand on the earth.

Prince Fu turned his head, somewhat stunned, his gaze fixed on the dagger protruding from his chest. He was taken aback, yet, in a strange way, it also felt somewhat inevitable.

He was powerful, but just as Xue Three had said, he didn’t know how to fight. That was why he hadn’t gone to the city walls to help with the defense—because he was afraid. Poison began to seep into his body. I’m finished, Prince Fu knew with certainty.

At this moment, a rueful, perplexed smile touched Prince Fu’s lips.

He said, "Weren’t you... weren’t you going to take this Prince captive?"

Xue Three straightened up. He blew a kiss towards Prince Fu from a distance and said softly, "Darling."

Prince Fu tilted his head slightly, awaiting the rest of the sentence.

"You’re too heavy. I can’t haul you."