Chapter 1570: Grandfather and Son-in-law et (First Watch)
Master Han clenched the fist in his hand, a murderous glint passing through his eyes.
Actually, he didn’t care whether Xiao Liulang advanced or not; after all, even if Xiao Liulang did advance, there was no way for him to pass the final challenge.
But the taste of being played for a fool was indeed unpleasant.
This lad nad Xiao Liulang… was a very infuriating guy.
Outside the barracks, Han Lei shook his head slightly at Master Han, signaling with his eyes not to act impulsively.
This was not the place to fight; being expelled from the competition would be bad news.
Master Han closed his eyes briefly, exhaled a breath of foul air, and cald his emotions before saying to Gu Jiao, “It’s all in vain.”
Gu Jiao nodded in strong agreent, “You’re absolutely right, it’s futile, so you might as well admit defeat now and let Brother Feng compete with in the next round.”
Feng Ling was so frightened that he jolted!
Aside from the eleven competitors in the barracks, there were also the examiners appointed by the imperial court and so cavalry who, although eliminated, were allowed to watch the battle.
All eyes simultaneously fell on Gu Jiao.
This youngster, with his flawed appearance and young age, dared to speak so arrogantly in front of Master Han.
Was he not afraid of death?
Compared to the sharp and exposed Crown Prince Han, this low-profile Master Han was the real slaughter god of the Han Family.
Master Han was highly valued by the old Lord Han; if he hadn’t been poisoned, even the position of family head might have been his for the taking.
Master Han’s temper wasn’t so easily provoked, and what happened earlier was an exception—there wouldn’t be a second ti.
He looked intently at Gu Jiao and said, “I’ll see you in the next match.”
Gu Jiao spread his hands, “Who knows if we’ll et, after all, I’ve advanced, but you haven’t yet.”
Stirring the pot!
Master Han clenched his fist.
Outside the barracks, Han Lei gestured with his eyes to one of the examiners.
The examiner imdiately cleared his throat, “Ahem! Alright, let’s start! Xiao Liulang, since you’ve advanced, you can stay to watch or you can leave now.”
Everyone looked at her enviously, wondering why such luck couldn’t fall upon them.
Gu Jiao reluctantly said, “Since you, the examiner, have asked to stay, then I’ll grudgingly watch.”
Examiner: “…”
The barracks were spacious, with a sand table set up in the center. The examiners sat in the main seats, facing the direction of the barracks entrance.
Those who were there to watch stood in the designated areas on either side, guarded by ten imperial guards.
The barracks were very quiet.
The first match was the legitimate son of the Feng Family, Feng Ling, against Master Han.
Those who had advanced to this round were all skilled. Feng Ling’s own strength wasn’t weak, and he often studied military tactics at ho, but still, he was far from being in the sa realm as Master Han.
Master Han won effortlessly.
Feng Ling walked dispiritedly to the spectating area.
The young nobles nearby consoled him, “It’s okay, losing to Master Han is nothing shaful. You can still brag about it when you go back.”
Feng Ling sighed, “That’s true,” but he still felt he had let down his family’s expectations.
The next match was between Taoist priest Qingchen and the legitimate son of the Nangong Family, which happened to be Nangong Jing’s elder brother.
How much confidence did Nangong Jing have in his elder brother to think that as long as Master Han was out of the way, the Nangong Family would be able to advance?
But here we are, his brother got hamred in the tactical sand table exercise.
“I yield,” said Taoist priest Qingchen as he cupped one hand in the other before his chest.
The face of Nangong Family’s son turned ashen, and he was escorted out by the guards in defeat.
Gu Changqing frowned slightly.
Out of this round, the people he most hoped to face were Master Han and Taoist priest Qingchen—these two were too powerful, and he hoped he had the chance to eliminate one strong opponent for his sister.
Regrettably, his opponent turned out to be the legitimate son of the Dong Family.
“The third round’s advancent goes to Han Zeyu!” announced the examiner.
Gu Changqing gestured to the son of the Dong Family, “I yield.”
The son of the Dong Family returned the gesture, gracefully accepting his defeat.
In the fourth match, Mu Qingchen faced off against his cousin from the Mu Family, and Mu Qingchen won.
The first few matches didn’t hold much suspense, but the last one was sowhat unexpected.
One side was a scion of the Han Family; the other was surprisingly a scholar from a humble background, nad Jun Xiuhuan.
In the first two rounds of selections, most people’s attention had been on the scions of the ten great families, and this Jun Xiuhuan had gone unnoticed.
Yet he won again.
Gu Jiao, after all, used the identity of a noble’s adopted child, but Jun Xiuhuan was a genuine scholar from a humble background, one of the few who studied at Jianan Academy by relying on scholarships.
It was at that mont that everyone truly recognized this humble scholar.
“That kid struck it lucky,” whispered a noble’s son standing next to Gu Jiao.
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