He Was Mistaken for the Sword Saint's Heir, So His Strictest Senior Trained the Fake novel · Chapter 22 of 24

Chapter 22: The Final

The stern old man with the purse stopped in front of Mian and looked him up and down.

"I am Lu Chengfeng's master," he said.

"I know," said Mian. "He has your nose."

"He has my hair, regrettably. Do not let him win to be polite."

He walked on without another word, and the purse swung at his hip.

At noon the final began before six thousand people.

Gilded Crane came out under a rain of gold paper, and Lu led them in with his hair tied back plain and no lion.

He bowed to Mian, once, without a flourish.

"Properly," he said. "With everything."

"I'll try," said Mian.

The rule was three against three, one ribbon on each left sleeve.

When the gong rang, the most ribbons at the end of the bell won.

Xiaoman went first.

She sat in the center of the ring with her abacus in her lap.

The first Crane disciple threw himself at her and bounced off her qi.

He tried it four more times, and then sat down too, out of dignity.

Shouyi went second.

The stands were full, every eye in the lake district fixed on him, and Mian watched his chest.

It rose.

It rose and fell, slow and ordinary, a man breathing in front of six thousand people.

The second Crane disciple came in with both blades flashing.

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