"Martial artists of Jianghu are just like the scholars in the Imperial Court, valuing their reputation above all else," Wang Anfeng reflected. "Once they'd witnessed such an embarrassing moment, it would be fine if they never encountered each other again. But should they meet, those with less generous hearts would surely bring up the incident for discussion."
With such an ambiguous grudge hanging between them, even if Anfeng's group had not left the inn, they would have found it hard to avoid confrontation upon encountering these people.
When he saw that the young man's face had clearly revealed a sense of gratification, yet still he kept his steed under control, following half a horse's length behind a middle-aged man, his heart sank not just slightly but as if it had been frozen for many hours in the winter of the Great Qin's Northern Lands, his complexion turning somewhat pale.
