075 This damn desire to win

Gong Cheng covered his face in pain.

"What can I, now a broken man, possibly do?"

The attendant grabbed his shoulders, solemn and earnest. "If even you yourself believe you're a broken man, then you truly are one! Yun Chi, look at me—listen, there are still many, many things you can do. Don't underestimate yourself!"

Forcing Gong Cheng to look into his eyes, the attendant's firm and resonant voice carried a hint of persuasive power, piercing through Gong Cheng's ears and settling in his mind until his emotions gradually stabilized.

Gong Cheng's hands, hanging on his knees, gradually clenched tighter, his knuckles turning blue and white, emitting a faint cracking sound.

"Perhaps—you could assist me."

Gong Cheng, as if hearing something terrifying, looked up at the attendant, trembling lips finally managing to speak: "Weng Zhi, you—"

The attendant brushed away any hesitation, his expression resolute. "Yes, that's exactly what I mean! Yun Chi, we've known each other for many years, you should understand my awkward position. The struggle for power within the Northern Desert royal family is as ruthless as any in the Central Plains, if not more so."

Gong Cheng said awkwardly, "I am well aware..."

Because he knew, he had taken care of Weng Zhi many times.

Seizing the opportunity, the attendant continued, "I've been used as a pawn for so many years. Who knows the hardships I've endured? If Xing Kingdom were still standing, I could continue as a pawn without worry. But now, Geng Kingdom has won, and I have no place here, nor can I return to the Northern Desert..."

Gong Cheng asked, "Why can't you go back?"

"My brothers, what good-natured souls are they? With their eyes red from their own killings, would they want to share their power and status with me? They're probably the first to hope for my death! So—Yun Chi, I truly need your help now."

Gong Cheng, shocked and hesitant, said, "But..."

"Yun Chi! We've known each other for so many years, you know my character better than anyone. If I let my brothers take control of the Northern Desert, they would show no mercy to the neighboring countries and their people, unlike me!"

The last sentence struck a chord in Gong Cheng's heart.

He raised three fingers to the sky and solemnly vowed, "If I break this oath, may I face divine retribution, my bones scattered to the wind!"

He spoke his true name in the Northern Desert, "Tuge Ge," rather than the name he adopted in the Central Plains, "Wu Yuan, also known as Weng Zhi," showing the seriousness of his oath. Gong Cheng was also shocked by his resolute attitude and could only utter slowly, "Why do you have to make such a solemn oath?"

The attendant, also known as Wu Yuan, smiled bitterly. "As long as the oath is not broken, no matter how venomous it may seem, it doesn't matter, because I am without guilt, am I not?"

Gong Cheng closed his eyes, his temples twitching occasionally, revealing the struggle and pain in his heart at this moment.

His friendship with Wu Yuan posed no obstacle.

However, helping Wu Yuan control the Northern Desert...

To put it simply, both the Northern Desert and Geng Kingdom had similar behaviors. The latter, under the leadership of Zheng Qiao, massacred, pillaged, and plundered the people of Xing Kingdom. As for the Northern Desert, every harvest season, they would gather their troops to harass the small neighboring countries bordering them, looting food and women before retreating.

Fundamentally, there was not much difference.

But—

If Weng Zhi were to take control, things might be different.

Perhaps he could seek revenge with his own troops.

Seeing Gong Cheng's brows gradually relax as he made up his mind, Gu Chi knew his decision. In an unnoticed angle, he smirked—oaths like this might be believed by those who trusted, but to those who didn't, they were nothing but empty words.

Clang!

The wooden sword in Zhai Le's hand was knocked away by Shen Tang, landing firmly in the wooden door, embedding itself "three inches deep," and he exclaimed in pain, "Enough, I won't spar with you anymore! I've never seen anyone like you."

He didn't need to look at his wrist to know it would be swollen.

Shen Tang executed a beautiful sword flourish, sword in hand and back arched.

She complained, "What's wrong with me?"

Zhai Le said, "You're petty and cunning!"

Shen Tang: "..."

Zhai Le seemed to have found a "weakness." "Your swordsmanship was erratic before, even worse than mine. After a few rounds, it was back and forth. Isn't this intentional? You let me win a few games, then suddenly increased your attack when I was complacent..."

The more he spoke, the more he felt his speculation was correct.

Although Zhai Le rarely used a sword, he had always considered his swordsmanship to be mediocre at best, but that depended on who he was comparing himself to. Compared to the masters of swordsmanship, he would undoubtedly be pinned to the ground and rubbed. However, compared to novices, he was undoubtedly a fish in troubled waters, chaotic and wild! Shen Tang was that novice.

Unlike the fierce swordsmanship when he was drunk that night, Shen Xiong's swordsmanship in normal state was immature, relying on speed and strange strength to bully the weak. But Zhai Le himself was a seventh-grade public doctor, without martial skills, Shen Tang's speed and strength didn't have any advantage.

In a situation without an advantage, the disadvantage naturally became more pronounced.

As a result—

After a few rounds, Shen Xiong's swordsmanship made rapid progress.

Perfectly replicating his swordsmanship to deal with him.

This, this, this, is this a beaver?

This is too unreasonable!

The only explanation was that Shen Xiong was pretending to be weak.

So Zhai Le became more and more aggrieved as he fought, he was being toyed with!

Seeing Zhai Le's accusing expression, Shen Tang burst into laughter, self-lovingly saying, "Why won't you believe that I'm strong against the strong, with extraordinary talent and excellent aptitude, a martial arts genius seen once in a century?"

Zhai Le snorted, "With your talent, why not practice martial arts?"

Still a ninth-grade bottom-ranked martial artist.

Seeing these conditions, it was clear that the martial path was more promising.

Shen Tang: "..."

How did she know this?

Besides, an indoor girl should lie down rather than sit, sit rather than stand, stand rather than squat, and squat rather than walk. Her WeChat step count usually stayed in the hundreds, rarely exceeding a thousand. Compared to martial arts, which required strenuous exercise to improve, literature was easier.

Hmm, that must be the reason.

Shen Tang retorted stubbornly, "Of course, it's because I like to use my shortcomings to challenge other people's strengths, which feels great."

Seemingly provoked by the challenge, Zhai Le almost exploded, jumping in place.

Drawing his long sword and pointing

 it at Shen Tang, with a fierce momentum.

"Come again!"

Because Shen Tang was a literary scholar, Zhai Le had not used any martial skills from start to finish, relying solely on physical strength to fight her. It was frustrating for him to see Shen Tang make rapid progress; in the end, three moves were enough to send his wooden sword flying, the blade pointing at his neck. If it were a real fight, he would be dead.

"Are you coming or not?"

Zhai Le gritted his teeth, "Coming!"

The result was naturally delightful to see.

Shen Tang's sword was more than five times faster than before, and even with Zhai Le's extraordinary eyesight, he could only catch the afterimages left by the sword blade.

"Swordsmanship is not my strong suit, let's compare something else."

Shen Tang asked, "Compare what?"

Zhai Le: "Moving rocks!"

Shen Tang's lips twitched, a little resistant to the suggestion.

"Moving rocks?"

"I've been practicing in the martial arts field at home like this,"

In fact, lifting a giant tripod would also work.

But where in the farmhouse courtyard could they find a tripod to play with?

As the three of them, Qishan, chatted happily and walked out of the house, they stacked stones on one side of the courtyard and moved them from one end to the other. At first, they stood and moved, then they changed to handstands and used their legs to move them. Not only did they compare the weight and quantity of the stones, but they also compared the speed of the handstand.

Qishan: "..."

Chu Yao: "..."

Zhai Le's cousin, Zhai Huan: "..."

At that moment, the same thought arose in all three of them—