FRGNM -Chapter 122 You’re Drunk

Fang Xu naturally took his seat, his gaze settling on Ling Ruoxi. He smiled faintly.

“Xie King, how do you want to settle this account?” Murong Ming stroked his beard, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the seated man.

Luo Mingyu raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Do tell—what account? I’m wearing all this gold, silver, and jade. Do I still owe you money?”

“It’s not about that. It’s just… Ruoxi…” Murong Ming’s tone shifted as he looked at the seated woman, his eyes gentle and smiling.

He never expected that this woman would be so graceful, her eyes seeming almost capable of speaking. They radiated clarity and purity, utterly free from the dust of the mortal world.

“Hm?” Ling Ruoxi responded instinctively, turning toward Murong Ming, sensing something was off.

Before she could react, Luo Mingyu scooped her into his arms, raising an eyebrow. “She’s my woman.”

“That’s not necessarily true. Ruoxi, I want to show you something,” said Murong Ming with a faint smile. He held out his hand, revealing a pale purple crystal. With the swirl of his fighting energy, tiny words appeared above it:

Today, the Murong and Ling families arrange a marriage. When Ruoxi comes of age, she shall wed Murong Mo of the Murong family. Unless the Murong family themselves annul the agreement, all other marriage contracts are invalid.

Beneath the text were the names of both families, deliberately obscured by Murong Ming. Only Murong Hua’s signature was partially visible, and the other, a single character: Ling.

“This is the marriage contract your parents made with us. Do you see it clearly?” He raised his hand, and the faint writing disappeared.

Luo Mingyu snorted disdainfully. “She and Nangong Mo have already annulled the engagement. That marriage is over!”

“Xie King, while I know you care for Ruoxi, the text clearly says that unless the Murong family themselves annul the contract, all other engagements are invalid. That fool Nangong Qin wouldn’t recognize her worth—he’s just an ordinary man.” Murong Ming smiled faintly. “In other words, the engagement still stands. Ruoxi is still part of our Murong family.”

“Nonsense!” Luo Mingyu’s face darkened. He didn’t care about any damn contract. He knew the woman before him was his—no one else could touch her!

“Don’t be angry; it’s the truth. I am a gentleman, I won’t force Ruoxi to marry Mo. But, Ruoxi…” The old fox in front of them smirked. “If you want to know about your parents, I can tell you anytime. The only condition is that you must become part of the Murong family.”

Murong Ming tapped the table casually. “I no longer interfere with mainland affairs. I’m here only to see my great-grandson return to the clan. What happens next is up to you. Young Master Fang, don’t drink too much—within this last layer of the formation, all fighting energy is suppressed. Use any, and you’ll be trapped in the formation.”

Her parents… Hearing those words, Ling Ruoxi nearly stood up, staring at the figure above as he slowly descended the steps, smiling.

Though he didn’t release any fighting energy, his overwhelming aura filled the hall, making it hard to breathe, sapping the will to resist. Absolute power.

Fang Xu’s expression darkened. He glanced briefly outside the door, then quickly averted his gaze, only offering a faint, indifferent smile as he looked at the two seated figures.

Though Murong Ming was the highest authority in Duan Yun Kingdom, the kingdom itself was under Murong Hua’s control.

Seeing his grandson grown, Murong Hua had a thousand words, yet knew not what to say. He patted Nangong Mo’s shoulder heavily, smiling faintly. “Good grandson, you’ve had it hard.”

“Grand Imperial Ancestor, it’s nothing,” Nangong Mo replied calmly. In the past twenty years, he had not been bullied; he had lived a smooth life, strangely becoming part of Duan Yun Kingdom. His only ‘failure’ was refusing this marriage.

“Tomorrow we’ll have a proper talk. For now, let’s not give everyone here a laugh. Xie King, Ruoxi, if I’ve offended, please forgive me.” Murong Hua raised his cup to them.

Instinctively lifting her cup, Ling Ruoxi smiled faintly. “It’s nothing. Thank you for your hospitality.” Before she finished, the man in front of her drank the entire cup in one gulp.

Luo Mingyu’s mouth twitched. He quickly grabbed her wrist, only to realize she had already emptied the cup.

“Great. Just great,” he muttered internally, pressing against her waist to keep her steady.

As expected, what one thinks often happens.

The alcohol hit her system. Her fair cheeks flushed slightly, and she inadvertently burped. “What is this? It tastes like… wine?”

“…”

“Next, we have a dance performance. Everyone, please enjoy the traditional dances of Duan Yun Kingdom.” The hall doors opened. Girls in pink-sleeved dresses took their positions, while a young woman carrying a guqin (ancient zither) sat inside the hall.

The sound of the bell and drum rang clearly. The guqin player hummed softly, her voice so gentle it was hard to discern the words.

The women in the hall danced in response, their long sleeves thrown like pink clouds. The soft singing and dancing exuded an ethereal charm, mesmerizing the audience.

“Hic…”

Luo Mingyu’s greatest fear appeared. The seated woman suddenly pushed his hand away. Her cheeks flushed red, eyes half-lidded as she stared ahead.

“Ruoxi…” Luo Mingyu reached forward, but she evaded his hand without using any fighting energy.

“What is this? Playing a guqin… sounds terrible!” She suddenly pushed the guqin player away. Grabbing the instrument herself, she held it like a guitar and strummed fiercely. Her long hair whipped around, and belching, she said, “Here, this one’s for everyone. Now…”

She struck the guqin again, realizing the sound was off. Confused, she looked ahead. “The guitar sound isn’t right. Where’s the tuner?”

After searching in vain, she slammed the instrument onto a large drum, clearing away the player. “Bang!”

“Bang, bang, bang!” The powerful drumbeats echoed. Ling Ruoxi, calm yet drunk, split the guqin in two, holding a piece in each hand, drumming coldly on the large drum.

It was as if past time itself resonated. The rhythm was fierce yet precise, like soldiers in battle or deadly agents executing the X-Project—ten people, flawless teamwork, only success and no failure.

The drums intensified, like snakes in grass under eagle attack, every beat charged with tension. Her black hair flew, her phoenix-like eyes glinting with bloodlust. She was a force of nature, commanding attention.

“Bang!” She struck again; the drum cracked. Exhausted, she dropped to her knees, hands trembling under the relentless rhythm. Her dark eyes glowed with killing intent.

Luo Mingyu frowned, pulling her up. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not.” Ling Ruoxi suppressed the cold murderous aura surging from her body, taking a deep breath.

“Good. I’ve never heard such a drum before. Ruoxi, what you just played…”

“Ambush from Ten Sides.” The ten-fold danger, disciplined and intense, yet harmonized into a mesmerizing performance. A lesson in vigilance: even in peace, always be aware.

Luo Mingyu patted her head. “I think you’re drunk. King Yun, you don’t mind if I take her away, right?”

“Of course…”

“Hey, Xie King, you just arrived in Duan Yun Kingdom and want to leave already? Besides, who gets drunk from one cup? I propose a martial contest instead. I’ve heard of your skill and wish to test it.” The man stood, smirking.

Ling Ruoxi frowned slightly. She wasn’t Fang Xu, and the alcohol made her limbs soft, almost unable to stand.

Perhaps it was her constitution; she was once famed for never being drunk, yet now, a single cup made her this way.

“Young Master Fang, I’m not in the mood to spar. If you want, you can challenge others,” Luo Mingyu said coldly, holding her close to leave.

“No! I want to spar with Fang Xu! Hic…” She stumbled forward, drunk, holding out her hands with a smile. “Alright, Fang Xu, I’ll give you three strikes. How’s that?”

“Ruoxi… you’re drunk…”