But after Fang Yuan glanced at him once, he lost all interest and refocused his attention on the food spread across the table, treating the middle-aged man beside him as though he were transparent.
"Who is that guy? Dressed like a household servant, not even a Gu Master, yet he dares to challenge Young Master Fang Yuan?" A tavern attendant, sensing trouble, shrank into a corner and asked in confusion.
"Hmph, he's just a fox borrowing a tiger's ferocity. One look tells you he's a favored slave from the Mo Family—riding on his masters' authority, he thinks he can shout at a Gu Master. If it were any other mortal, who would dare?" Someone nearby sneered dismissively.
"Even so, for a mere mortal to raise his voice at a Gu Master like that... tsk tsk, that kind of experience must feel quite something."
"Tch, don't make Gu Masters out to be more formidable than they are. Young Master Fang Yuan is only at the Initial Stage of First Transformation. He just barely refined his Life Gu. If it actually came to a fight, he might not be able to beat this hulk of a mortal who's built like an ox and clearly well-trained."
"Sigh, let's just hope that if they do get into it, they don't wreck our tavern."
The attendants whispered back and forth among themselves, none daring to step forward, content to crane their necks and watch from a distance.
"Oh? You've still got the mind to keep eating and drinking." Seeing that his words had failed to rattle Fang Yuan, the tall, burly middle-aged man's eyes flashed coldly. "You think I'm bluffing? Someone's already gone to inform the Eldest Miss. She'll be here before long. Kid, don't even think about running. Of course, you couldn't run even if you wanted to—I'm here specifically to keep an eye on you. Just you wait; you'll get what's coming."
Fang Yuan paid him no heed and continued eating.
The middle-aged servant's brow furrowed. He couldn't find the slightest trace of fear or panic on Fang Yuan's face. It gave him the uncomfortable sense of being ignored, of his dignity being trampled on.
He had served the Mo Family as a household slave for over a decade and had earned considerable trust from his masters. Through long years of exposure, he had picked up a fair amount of knowledge about Gu Masters.
A First Transformation Initial Stage Gu Master still relied primarily on hand-to-hand combat. In battle, a Gu Insect's intimidating presence far outweighed its actual utility.
Moreover, he knew that a young Gu Master like Fang Yuan, who had only just begun his cultivation, was nowhere near as strong as he was—a man in the prime of his life. If it came to fists and feet, with his years of rigorous training, he could easily gain the upper hand.
On top of that, Fang Yuan had only refined the Moonlight Gu, which at most could project a few Moon Blades.
The middle-aged man had served as a sparring partner long ago. He spoke from firsthand experience, and he knew: a Moon Blade powered by True Essence at the Initial Stage of First Transformation, if it actually hit a human body, could at most carve a palm-length gash. Its destructive power was quite limited.
With the Mo Family backing him, he felt no apprehension whatsoever facing Fang Yuan. He was eager to make a strong showing, hoping to earn his masters' favor and recognition.
"You've got quite the nerve, kid..." The middle-aged man's tone grew ever more hostile. As he spoke, he rolled up his sleeves, revealing a pair of powerfully muscled arms. Both were thick and sturdy, covered in scars. The veins on his forearms bulged and snaked beneath the skin, and his upper arms were thicker than Fang Yuan's thighs.
The tavern attendants felt their blood run cold at the sight. Several diners had already risen from their seats, hurriedly settling their bills, eager to put distance between themselves and this brewing confrontation.
"You've found Fang Yuan?" Just then, a clear, imperious female voice rang out from the entrance.
Moyan strode into the tavern in large, commanding steps, trailed by a retinue of household servants.
She had a decent figure—somewhat tall, with a curvaceous silhouette. But her long, horse-like face, a trait inherited from the Mo bloodline, severely diminished her attractiveness, leaving her looking middling at best.
Still, she wore a blue martial outfit cinched at the waist by a wide crimson belt adorned with square iron plates. Etched upon one of the plates was a prominent character: "Two."
Moreover, having just returned from completing a family assignment, her appearance still carried traces of weariness from the road.
All of this lent her an air of sharp, commanding efficiency.
The moment she stepped into the tavern, the force of her presence silenced the entire dining hall.
"This servant Gao Wan greets the Eldest Miss!" The middle-aged man's expression transformed the instant he laid eyes on Moyan.
A fawning smile spread across his face. He bowed low, hunched his back, scurried forward in several quick steps, then dropped to his knees with a heavy thud, paying his respects to Moyan.
The tavern attendants stared, dumbfounded, at the man's sudden metamorphosis.
Gao Wan was tall and brawny—groveling on the ground, he cut an absurd, almost comical figure. But none of the attendants could bring themselves to laugh. The household servant's obsequious display only served to underscore just how formidable Moyan truly was.
Some of the attendants couldn't help but break into a silent sweat on Fang Yuan's behalf. He was their best customer. If anything happened to him and he could no longer frequent the tavern, that would spell real trouble.
Even more of them were silently praying: let Fang Yuan just surrender without a fight. If a real brawl broke out and the tavern's furnishings got destroyed, that would be far worse.
Moyan didn't spare a single glance at Gao Wan kneeling on the ground. Her eyes locked onto Fang Yuan as she closed the distance to the table in a few powerful strides, her tone razor-sharp: "So you're Fang Yuan? Looks like you're enjoying your meal. Heh heh—I wonder how your fist tastes? I think I'll let you sample it. Perhaps that'll be even more flavorful."
Though she spoke the words, Moyan did not immediately strike.
Fang Yuan's composure was too calm, too peculiar. Could it be that someone powerful was secretly backing him?
"But that shouldn't be—I investigated before I came. This Fang Yuan is the textbook definition of having no one to turn to. Both parents died young, and he was kicked out by his uncle and aunt. Besides, his aptitude is only Grade C. What kind of backing could a frail teenager possibly have?" Moyan couldn't help but muse.
But regardless, abnormality was a sign of something hidden. This was strange, and it needed probing.