Zhou Tieyi put away his inkstone, raised his long spear once more, and pointed it at Wang Qixing.
Feeling the cold bite of the dragon-patterned steel-wood spear, Wang Qixing felt his hair stand on end. It had been a long time—no, ever since he was a child—that he had faced the threat of death so directly.
Tianjing was a place of a hundred virtues. It was a tangled web of major factions; if you threw a rock into a crowd, you were likely to hit a Fourth Grade official. Even these scions of noble families were usually arrogant and overbearing, but they knew how to play their cards carefully. Generally speaking, when they encountered an opponent with an established lineage, they maintained a mutual wariness. You might use the life or death of a retainer as a tool on a gambling platform, but who would ever step into the ring to fight for their own life?
Chapter 182