"I'm asking you — a contest of talent. Do you dare or not?"
"Stop dragging your feet like a bunch of women."
"Dare or don't dare — just say the word."
"If you don't dare, apologize and admit your mistakes right now."
Chu Feng pressed them once more.
"Apologize and admit our mistakes? Why should we apologize to you?"
The Duanmu brothers spoke in unison.
"Why? The marriage competition was established by the Sect Master."
"The rules state that all juniors may participate regardless of age, gender, or whether they're elders or disciples."
"I, Chu Feng, fully meet the requirements."
"You register your names, I register mine — we have nothing to do with each other."
"And yet you insist on questioning me."
"You people who don't even dare to compete in talent — what right do you have to question me, Chu Feng?"
Chu Feng fired off question after question.
His barrage left the Duanmu brothers speechless, their faces filled with embarrassment.
Indeed, their actions today had no justification.
At this point, the Duanmu brothers clearly regretted it.
They had intended to use their status as Crouching Dragon disciples and their cultivation at the ninth level of Supreme to suppress Chu Feng and crush his spirit.
Never had they expected that Chu Feng would prove to be such a hard stone.
Not only had they failed to wound him, but they had now backed themselves into a corner.
Proud Crouching Dragon disciples, trapped in an impossible situation.
But they were Crouching Dragon disciples after all — how could they accept being outdone by a mere newcomer?
With that thought, they stopped caring about propriety.
"Enough talk."
"We'll compete if you want, but... I'll only compete with you in martial force."
With that, Duanmu Yang released his aura — and this time it was far more than a simple display of power. His aura surged directly toward Chu Feng, striking with killing intent!
Boom!
However, the moment his aura was released, another wave of pressure erupted and crushed Duanmu Yang's aura right back down.
This pressure came from below the stage.
It belonged to a stocky, dark-skinned man.
He looked like a young man as well — his features entirely ordinary, but he carried an honest, righteous demeanor.
When the Duanmu brothers saw him, the discomfort on their faces deepened.
This man's name was Lu Long. Though his appearance was unremarkable, his strength was nothing to scoff at.
His cultivation stood at the first level of Martial Venerable, and he was one hundred and thirteen years old.
He had once been a Crouching Dragon disciple as well — had he not exceeded the age limit for juniors, his cultivation would have earned him a place among the Crouching Dragon disciples still.
"Duanmu Xiang, Duanmu Yang."
"I think this Brother Chu Feng makes a fair point."
"The two of you were giving him a hard time for no reason in the first place."
"Bullying someone younger, using your status to suppress him — he had every reason to look down on you."
"Besides, Junior Brother Chu Feng has proposed a competition. If you're unhappy, you can accept the challenge."
"And if you won't accept the challenge, that's one thing — but to resort to violence directly?"
"That's a bit too shameful, isn't it?"
After stepping in, Lu Long added his own barbs.
More importantly, Lu Long had a solid reputation. As soon as he spoke, quite a few people chimed in with support.
Among the crowd that had been enjoying the show, voices suddenly rose to condemn the Duanmu brothers.
This left the Duanmu brothers — Crouching Dragon disciples no less — feeling utterly humiliated, with nothing they could do about it.
After throwing Chu Feng a vicious glare, they slunk away in disgrace.
As for Chu Feng, he descended from the high platform.
He walked straight toward Lu Long, wanting to thank him.
Lu Long already knew what Chu Feng intended, and before Chu Feng could even speak, he clasped his fist first. "I am Lu Long. Though I'm no longer a junior, I am still a disciple of the Crouching Dragon Martial Sect."
"I am Chu Feng. Many thanks for your help, Senior Brother Lu Long."
Chu Feng also clasped his fist.
"Ah, we're all fellow disciples. No need for formalities."