Su Mengnan was perfectly polite, even going so far as to open the car door for Jiang Fei. Grinning, he said, “Master Jiang, why don’t we talk on the road? It’s about dinner time anyway, so we can find a nice place to grab a bite.”
After Jiang Fei got in, Su Mengnan hurried back around to the driver’s seat and started the engine.
Jiang Fei had never been particularly fond of flashy speedster sports cars. Comparatively, he much preferred rugged off-road vehicles—especially the military-grade ones that Ye Yuanyuan and her circle of military-brat friends could get their hands on through special connections. Those felt like real man’s rides.
As for this kind of sports car? It was better suited for a show-off, spoiled rich kid like Su Mengnan.
“Your visit isn’t about your alliance leader Liu Yunduo, is it? Did something go wrong with her right hand?” Jiang Fei asked.
Liu Yunduo had, by a stroke of fate, become the disciple of the wild grass hermit from Mount Lu—who was none other than the legendary Green Dragon, one of the Four Kings of ancient China. This hermit was a true master of the old generation, having reached the legendary realm of innate internal energy. Even without fully healing Liu Yunduo’s right hand, he’d taught her a left-handed sword style that almost completely restored her combat ability.
Later, after Jiang Fei’s medical skills had reached the Grandmaster level, he’d re-treated her injuries as well.
By his estimation, Liu Yunduo’s right hand—which had been crippled by Miyamoto Ichishin—should be nearly fully recovered by now.
“Not at all. Thanks to your personal treatment, Master Jiang, our alliance leader’s wrist has healed beautifully. She’s already back to practicing swordsmanship with her right hand. In fact, even using just her right hand, she’s regained most of her former skill.” Su Mengnan said with a cheerful grin, slipping in a subtle compliment about Jiang Fei’s medical prowess.
Jiang Fei nodded.
He wasn’t surprised. With him personally handling the treatment, there was no way Liu Yunduo’s right hand wouldn’t make a full recovery—he was one hundred percent certain of that, with no room for error.
What he was more curious about, though, was just how much stronger Liu Yunduo would become now that her right hand was fully healed, combined with the left-handed sword techniques taught by that master of innate internal energy.
After all, Liu Yunduo’s original skill level, after Jiang Fei’s guidance, already placed her among the top-tier experts—not far behind Miyamoto Ichishin.
After her crushing defeat at his hands, with her wrist nearly ruined, her understanding of swordsmanship had surely deepened. Once her wrist healed and she went through a short period of focused training, her swordsmanship would likely advance even further.
And most importantly, Liu Yunduo had unlocked her left hand as a weapon.
Left-handed swordplay plus right-handed swordplay was not a simple one-plus-one-equals-two scenario, nor was it anything like Japan’s two-sword style.
If you had to fit her technique into a neat template, the closest comparison would be Zhou Botong’s self-invented “ambidextrous combat” technique!
Using two entirely different sword styles with both hands simultaneously—even if they weren’t perfectly complementary like Yang Guo and Xiaolongnü’s Jade Maiden Swordplay—still created a tremendous synergistic effect.
Now that Liu Yunduo’s right hand had fully recovered, Jiang Fei could confidently say that if she faced Miyamoto Ichishin again, wielding both swords at once, she would have no trouble cutting him down without a doubt.
“I wonder if combining the left-handed and right-handed sword styles will push Liu Yunduo’s strength to the threshold of the Dan-level,” Jiang Fei mused to himself.
If she could reach that threshold, even if she was only a beginner, it would be an incredible achievement. She’d surpass other young powerhouses like Bai Kedi and the Young Drunkard by a wide margin—and aside from Jiang Fei himself, she might very well be the number one fighter of her generation.
So, as the saying goes: a loss may turn out to be a gain.
If Miyamoto Ichishin hadn’t crippled her wrist, Liu Yunduo might never have learned the left-handed sword style, and it could have taken years—or even decades—for her to reach the Dan-level.
The Ferrari shot off like an arrow released from a bow, and even on the city’s main roads, Su Mengnan managed to give it a bit of a racing feel.
Thankfully, his driving skills were solid, and while the engine roared incessantly, that was just the signature sound of a sports car’s throttle—it wasn’t actually going that fast. Jiang Fei, sitting in the passenger seat, felt reassured enough.
“If your alliance leader’s fine, then what do you need from me?” Jiang Fei asked.
Su Mengnan kept his eyes on the road ahead as he drove, replying with a grin, “Like I said, I just wanted to catch up with you, Master Jiang. There’s a party at Club No. 7 tonight—about half of Beijing’s socialite scene will be there. We could drop by and have some fun, maybe mingle a bit.”
“Pull over,” Jiang Fei said flatly.
“Why?” Su Mengnan blinked in confusion.
“What do I have to catch up with you about? If there’s no real business, I’m getting out. I don’t have time for your nonsense, and I have zero interest in joining your rich-kid social circles,” Jiang Fei said coolly.
While Jiang Fei didn’t mind meeting more beautiful women, he had no interest in the kind that would show up at Su Mengnan’s crowd’s parties.
Besides, when it came to beautiful women, with his current status, was he lacking in that department?
Lin Moli and Bai Ruoxi went without saying. Qiao Yiyi had been voted one of Asia’s top ten most beautiful women. National goddess Gao Qinyuan and long-legged supermodel Li Wen each had their own unique appeal.
Even Ye Yuanyuan—who had never been considered feminine before—now that Jiang Fei had fixed her “shortcoming” in the chest area, would easily score above ninety as a top-tier beauty if you ignored her personality.
So by now, Jiang Fei was no longer easily swayed by pretty faces. He’d built up quite a resistance to temptation.
“Hold on!” Su Mengnan quickly pleaded, turning serious. “I really do have something important to discuss with you, Master Jiang. But this car isn’t the right place to talk. Let’s find a spot to eat first, and we can chat in detail there.”
Jiang Fei agreed.
A famous scion like Su Mengnan wouldn’t take him to just any ordinary restaurant. The place they went was definitely not listed on any public review site—it was exclusive to a select few, and ordinary folks wouldn’t even know it existed.
After Su Mengnan booked a private room and the dishes were served, he dismissed the two pretty waitresses in their cheongsams and got down to business.
For once, the usually jokey Su Mengnan didn’t crack any wisecracks. He poured himself three glasses of baijiu, downing each one in succession without pausing for breath.
Then, looking Jiang Fei straight in the eye, he declared in a firm, clear voice: “I want to invite you, Master Jiang, to sail east to Japan with us—the Chinese Sword Dao Alliance—and crush those Japanese bastards!”
