Martial Dao: Peace by Force

Tan Xiao glanced at him but said nothing.

Ming Wei couldn't hold it in any longer. She stepped forward, her tone still reasonably polite. "Please don't misunderstand, sirs. We're just curious. Those people from the Sheng Family are experts in the Blood Tempering Realm. They've fought several matches here in South City, and no one has been able to put them in their place. Since you two have come from so far away, you must have some real skills... Would you be willing to show us what you can do?"

She was being diplomatic, but her meaning was clear...

They wanted to test their strength.

Ming Lei frowned. "Wei!"

"I'm just asking, Brother," Ming Wei said with a smile, turning to Wan Ze. "Master Wan, what do you think?"

Wan Ze set down his teacup and looked up at her.

"That won't be necessary," he said.

Ming Wei's smile stiffened.

Ming Hua, standing nearby, could no longer contain himself and stepped forward. "Master Wan, don't get the wrong idea. We're just curious. We've fought those three from the Sheng Family, and they're tough, no doubt about it. Since you two were sent by the Dragon Eagle Sect, you must be stronger than us to act as arbitrators... How about you show us a little something, just so we have a better idea of what you can do?"

His words were polite.

But he was clearly not convinced.

Wan Ze glanced at him.

Ming Hua took another step forward. "Master Wan, I ask for your instruction!"

He raised his right hand in a fist-and-palm salute. The moment Wan Ze began to rise, Ming Hua charged.

Wan Ze didn't even spare him a glance.

He simply pointed a finger forward.

Ming Hua's vision blurred as an immense force materialized out of thin air and slammed into his chest. His eyes bulged, completely powerless to stop it.

And yet!

Wan Ze had only extended a single finger!

But he had no chance to resist. Instantly, his feet left the ground and he was sent flying backward!

"BANG!"

Ming Hua slammed into the hall's doorframe, making the entire door shudder. He then crashed to the floor, rolled twice, and lay there sprawled and covered in dust, unable to get back up.

The hall fell deathly silent.

Ming Lei's pupils contracted.

Ming Wei's mouth hung open, forgotten.

Ming Song and Ming Lan, standing in the back, didn't dare to move a muscle.

Wan Ze retracted his hand, picked up his teacup, and took another sip.

"Since the Dragon Eagle Sect sent me, rest assured I can handle the situation. There's no need for any of you to worry," he said calmly.

Just then, Ming Zhaojun strode into the hall. Behind him was an old man with a white beard and hair—the old patriarch of the Ming Family, Ming Venerable.

Ming Zhaojun's face was ashen, his anger directed not at Wan Ze, but at the insolent younger members of his own family!

He shot a cold glare at Ming Hua, still sprawled on the floor, then turned to Ming Lei and the others, his anger boiling over. "Who gave you permission to lay a hand on Master Wan? The audacity!"

Ming Lei opened his mouth. "Father, we were just—"

"Shut up!"

Ming Zhaojun slapped him across the face. Five red fingermarks immediately bloomed on Ming Lei's cheek, and he stumbled back two steps, nearly falling.

Ming Wei and the others turned pale with fright, lowering their heads and not daring to make a sound.

Ming Zhaojun took a deep breath, then turned to Wan Ze and gave a deep bow with cupped fists. "Master Wan, I have failed to properly discipline my children, allowing these brats to offend you. I beg you, please be magnanimous and don't take it to heart."

He spoke with sincerity, his posture one of extreme deference.

Wan Ze knew what he was thinking.

He was afraid Wan Ze would get the wrong idea.

Afraid he would think this was the Ming Family's doing—sending a few of the younger generation to test whether the representative from the Dragon Eagle Sect truly had any skill.

This was not how the Ming Family treated its guests, and it certainly didn't reflect their attitude toward the Dragon Eagle Sect.

'Of course, if Situ Bai hadn't specifically mentioned the old patriarch, Ming Venerable, before I came, I might have actually thought so.'

Wan Ze put down his teacup, stood up, and steadied Ming Zhaojun by the arm. "President Ming, you're being too formal."

He glanced at Ming Lei and the others with a breezy smile. "They're young. A bit of a fiery spirit is a good thing. Those people from the Sheng Family aren't easy to deal with, so I understand their eagerness."

Ming Zhaojun breathed a sigh of relief, then shot Ming Lei a fierce glare. "What are you waiting for? Thank Master Wan!"

As if granted a pardon, Ming Lei and the others hurried forward and bowed deeply.

Wan Ze waved his hand with an easygoing smile and said no more.

He walked past them and offered a fist-and-palm salute to the white-haired, white-bearded old man standing at the entrance. "Greetings, Senior."

Ming Venerable leaned on a rosewood cane. His frame was thin, but his back was ramrod straight. Though his eyes were somewhat cloudy, they still held a glint of their former sharpness. He waved a hand at Wan Ze with a cheerful chuckle. "No need for formalities. Brother Situ already sang your praises to the high heavens on the phone. Now that I see you in person, you're even younger than I imagined."

As he spoke, he walked further into the room with Ming Zhaojun's support. "Master Wan, Master Tan, I am endlessly grateful that you both could come. However, there are a few things I must say up front... I did not invite the Dragon Eagle Sect here to fight the Ming Family's battles."

Ming Venerable's tone was calm, but every word was distinct. "I invited you here to bring this matter to a definitive conclusion."

Wan Ze listened without interrupting.

"The affairs of the martial world are settled within the martial world," Ming Venerable continued. "In the tournament tomorrow, the Ming Family will field four of our younger generation, and the Sheng Family will field four of theirs. They will determine victory and defeat in the arena. A loss is a loss, a win is a win. Whatever the outcome, the Ming Family will accept it."

He paused, his gaze falling upon Wan Ze's face.

"My only request is that you, Master Wan and Master Tan, intervene in time... to preserve the lives of these youngsters from my Ming Family."

Wan Ze met his gaze and nodded. "Of course."

Ming Venerable smiled, satisfied, and gestured with his hand. "Sit. Everyone, please sit."

Everyone took their seats.

A servant served fresh tea, and the topic turned to the next day's tournament.

Ming Zhaojun sat beside Wan Ze and explained the situation in detail.

"It will be four-on-four tomorrow. On the Ming Family's side, we have Lei, Ming Hua, Ming Wei, and Ming Rui, the third son of the second branch. On the Sheng Family's side, there's Sheng Rulong, his two cousins Sheng Rushan and Sheng Ruhai, and another named Sheng Ruhu. They're all at the level of the Blood Tempering Second and Third Transformations."

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