Chapter 91: An Unexpected Comparison

As soon as those words were spoken, a burst of laughter erupted. Passersby turned their gazes toward Tang Wanyue.

"It's the young General Tang!"

Those who could be present here were all renowned merchants of Zhongdu, and thus they instantly recognized Tang Wanyue's identity.

"To think that young General Tang would grace us with her presence tonight—what an honor! Young General Tang, allow me to offer you a toast!"

A well-known local magnate approached her with enthusiasm.

"Very well, then I shan't stand on ceremony," Tang Wanyue replied, raising her hand to take the offered cup and downing it in one bold draught.

The merchant was overjoyed, exchanged a few pleasant words, then retreated. The others, seeing this, began to jest with laughter, "Young General Tang is forthright, bold in love and hate—truly the capital's most brilliant prodigy!"

"Flatterer! General Tang won't drink your wine anyway!"

A ripple of laughter spread through the air; the entire hall was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.

Yet Ito Masaru's face turned ashen, then flushed red with anger. He could see all too clearly that Tang Wanyue looked down on him for being from the Eastern Isles! He, Ito Masaru, was host of this cultural exchange, had personally come to greet her, and yet this woman had not the least inclination to return his courtesy. Yet any person from Longguo could offer her a drink and she would accept without hesitation.

A blatant double standard!

"Miss Tang, since you’re here for our Eastern Isles cultural exchange, why not allow me to show you around and introduce you to the sights?" Ito Masaru forced down his fury, taking a deep breath.

His task tonight was simple: by any means necessary, lure Tang Wanyue to the screens at the back of the hall. There, the five grand jōnin of his family and their sole shadow master—Ito Junren—would move as one, capturing her swiftly and silently the moment she arrived.

In many ways, Ito Masaru was the linchpin of this plan. He still recalled his father's instructions:

"Ah, Masaru, you are the handsomest and most talented young man of the Ito family. I trust you will so bewitch the Tang princess she will throw herself willingly into our net!"

Yet reality was far from so accommodating. Tang Wanyue not only disdained him, she had even insulted him without the slightest restraint—calling him ugly!

This was intolerable. At that moment, Ito Masaru seethed with a rage he could barely contain. He resolved that once they had captured Tang Wanyue and brought her back to the Eastern Isles, he would make her beg for mercy beneath him, groveling at his feet!

Tang Wanyue, however, merely shrugged and nodded indifferently. "Fine, you lead the way, then. Let me see what kind of spectacle you can conjure in this tiny place of yours."

The remark was like a slap, and the Eastern Islanders around them clenched their teeth in anger. This woman was unbearably arrogant, daring to so openly belittle the cultural treasures of their homeland!

But Ito Masaru quickly waved his hand, dismissing his compatriots—now was not the time for conflict if their plan was to succeed.

Once the others had withdrawn, Ito Masaru led the way with eager hospitality. He approached a tea table of exquisite craftsmanship and introduced it to the assembled guests.

"Allow me to present the way of tea from our Eastern Isles."

With that, he moved to a basin, carefully washed his hands, dried them with a towel, then stood before the tea table and bowed solemnly to the crowd.

"This bowing culture runs deep," Ye Tian remarked blandly, at first merely observing, but when he saw the bow, he could not help but laugh. These people from the Eastern Isles—even after losing a war, they would bow; when disgraced internationally, they would bow. Their specialty was endless bowing and scraping, their faces thick as walls.

On stage, Ito Masaru heard this and could restrain himself no longer. "You, unknown friend! If you have no interest in the culture of my homeland, then I ask you to take your leave! Why must you disrupt my demonstration with mockery?"

"When have I been mocking? Why should you Eastern Islanders be free to act as you please, while we from Longguo must hold our tongues?" Ye Tian retorted with a sneer. "Besides, in your so-called tea ceremony, is there a single step that doesn't echo our own traditions?"

"If I recall, in ancient times, nations the world over came to pay tribute, and your people were the most eager of all, begging to take our culture home with you. Yet, after a few centuries, you call it your own treasure? Have you no shame?"

At these words, Ito Masaru flushed with embarrassment. Anyone truly versed in the history of the Eastern Isles knew that much of their culture originated in Longguo. Though centuries of evolution had given it a style of its own, its roots remained clear.

It was precisely this irrefutable fact that so enraged Ito Masaru—he could not even argue.

But even the mildest person would burn with anger at Ye Tian's merciless tirade.

"And what of it?" he retorted. "All it proves is that our Eastern Isles have a superior capacity to learn, to take the best from others. In many areas today, your own country may not match us."

"If you think otherwise, let us compete!"

With that, Ito Masaru drew a samurai sword from his belt and laid it on the table. "You say all we do is borrow. Then let us see which of our nations excels! This sword is called Autumn Rain—a masterpiece forged by my family's legendary swordsmith. If you have the skill, produce a blade sharper than this!"

"That's not fair!" shouted one of the Longguo merchants who had been watching the commotion. "Autumn Rain is one of the famed swords of your homeland. To pit a top-tier blade against us is no contest at all!"

"Besides, our laws are strict—who would carry a sword out in public?"

"It's nothing but bullying!"

At this, many present from Longguo cried out in indignation, their voices rising in protest.

"Bah!"

The hall was soon in an uproar. Ito Masaru and his countrymen looked on with contempt. In their eyes, these people from Longguo were all talk, with nothing worthy to show—a pitiful excuse for not having a fine blade at hand.

Watching the anxious faces of the Longguo crowd, Ito Masaru felt a surge of pride. With just a simple move, he had already regained the upper hand.

"How laughable—here you are, on your own soil, and yet you can't produce a single respectable blade. I advise you, unknown friend, to leave now, before you become an object of ridicule and lose all face!"

Yet before he could finish gloating, a cold gleam of steel flashed across the room.

All eyes were drawn to the dazzling light. Ye Tian, with a flourish, revealed a Tang dynasty horizontal sword—its hilt austere, its blade breathtakingly beautiful—for all to see.

With just a few casual swings, even the inattentive could hear the mournful cry as the blade cut through the air.