A Touch Of Irony

Fang Lei sighs, kicking a pebble on the dirt road. He had successfully possessed a random young male's body in order to follow Xu Jiyu around, but…

"Hey, you there! Good-looking young man!"

He pauses in his steps, looking back.

The merchant pauses as well, before smiling at him and waving rather enthusiastically.

Fang Lei smacks his own face with the palm of his hand. Since he's traveling on an empty road, the only other person who was going this way was none other than—

"Have you changed your mind? You actually really want to buy one of these talismans, right?" Wen Po questions, waving a bundle of talismans in his hand.

Fang Lei's eye twitches, "No. Stop talking to me."

"You're the only other person other than myself on this road, so you're the only customer I can talk to. You'll have to deal with my persistence for a bit longer, okay?" Wen Po says, taking long strides forward to catch up to the shorter male.

He holds the wad of talismans in front of Fang Lei's face, grinning. "You know you want to buy these. Hey, for you, I'll even lower the price to just a meager 15 coins. How about it, hm?"

Fang Lei's expression is filled with annoyance as he takes one uninterested glance at the talismans, before looking Wen Po right in the eyes. "Those aren't even real talismans. Why don't you try scamming someone else, old man."

Then, Fang Lei sends the merchant a menacing glare—but it only looked like a cute pout due to the body he'd possessed. Truth be told, because he was in a hurry to quickly follow after Xu Jiyu, he chose a body at random. The body just so happened to be a young male who looks absolutely adorable in every aspect. So whenever Fang Lei attempted to provoke someone, they wouldn't take him seriously.

Such a loveable young man trying to glare at someone, wasn't that just some adorable meng, ah?

Even Wen Po thinks that the young man was just bluffing, even forcing down his laughter at the pout. "How could you say it's fake? Unless you are a cultivator, then saying such things will be bad for my business! Also—I'm not that old, ah! I'm only in my late twenties!"

Almost immediately, Fang Lei retorts, "I am a powerful cultivator, you dumb merchant. Now leave me alone, I more important matters to tend to, stupid old man!" And he begins to walk off, leaving Wen Po behind him.

But the persistent merchant just doesn't know when to quit. He idly follows after Fang Lei with an amused smile on his face, nevermind the fact that Fang Lei completely dissed his age. "Someone as little as you can be a cultivator?"

Fang Lei doesn't bother looking back. Instead, he decides to completely ignore Wen Po, his agitation rising with every passing second. He closes his eyes and continues to walk forward, attempting to tune out the incessant bickerings of the merchant.

Taking deep breaths, he begins to quell the fire of anger burning within him.

"Hey now, don't give me the cold shoulder. It's a bit lonely on this road, don't you think? If you don't want to buy my items, then can't we at least have a nice conversation?" Wen Po continues on as he leisurely follows close behind the self-proclaimed cultivator.

Fang Lei takes another deep breath. He finally stops in his tracks, turns to face Wen Po and asks, "Look, do you want to fight, or what? Can't you see I don't want to talk right now? I have important things to do, and one of them is definitely not talking to you."

If it weren't for the King's order to go to the human realm, he would've never came here on his own accord in the first place. This is exactly why he hates humans… they're so annoying! He's been a spirit for so long, he'd already forgotten what he was like as a human before he died. So in the end, he doesn't have any reason to like them—only reasons to dislike them.

Wen Po's expression quickly turns to surprise, shaking his head: "Of course not, who in their right mind would want to fight a powerful cultivator like yourself? I am only a harmless traveling merchant, there's no need to get rowdy." He shoves his bundle of talismans into his robe and puts his hands up in the air, showing that he had really surrendered.

Fang Lei narrows his eyes at the sight, before cl.i.c.k.i.n.g his tongue and briskly walks off once more. Wen Po puts his hands down, swiftly following Fang Lei.

There's only a few seconds of silence before Wen Po opens his mouth to continue bickering once more: "So, why are you taking such a discreet road? Could it be you're trying to hide from someone? Oh, or maybe you're on some kind of spy mission? You must be tailing someone and wanted to lay low, ri—"

Wen Po's speech is cut short as his body reacts, leaning backward before leaping away, narrowly avoiding the flash of light that ricochets off the ground where he'd previously been standing. Fang Lei approaches, spiritual sword drawn. The sword itself is simple, yet well-suited to its purpose, devoid of any decoration and seemingly forged of a bright steel. Its keen edge glimmers, its golden aura giving off an air of greed… as if the sword itself was hungry.

"Not as slow as you look, old man." Fang Lei's cherubic face doesn't match the menace in his words.

With that said, Fang Lei once again lunges. Wen Po ducks his wild horizontal slash, turning on his heels to face Fang Lei as he takes a few steps backward to recover his balance from his evasive maneuver. His wicked blade again having missed by mere centimeters, Fang Lei sighs in indignant frustration. "Hold still, damn it!"

"Hey, relax! I don't want to fight! Please, sir, this is not behavior befitting a noble cultiva—TOR!?" Wen Po again throws himself out of the path of a vicious thrust of that malevolent steel.

But as Fang Lei brings his sword back to his hip to prepare for yet another attempt on his life, Wen Po's jovial displacement vanishes. In its place, a darkened expression rests, rich velvet eyes hardening into a deep violet. Fang Lei's next attack is an overhead slash, one that could split him in two, down the middle. But as impending death bears down—

"Enough." Wen Po steps forward. In the blink of an eye, his hand is up, and he's struck the pommel of the sword firmly with his palm, effectively stopping the attack and sending the blade flying from Fang Lei's grasp.

He continues locking eyes with Fang Lei as they're nearly c.h.e.s.t to c.h.e.s.t. Fang Lei's eyes widen. Instinctively, Fang Lei steps back and swings a wild punch aimed at his c.h.e.s.t. It's too slow. Wen Po drops one shoulder back, turning on his heel and allowing the attack to glance off his ribs, simultaneously hooking his back foot around Fang Lei's.

Wen Po simply places a palm against Fang Lei's stomach and pushes, allowing his momentum to carry him backward, his foot tripping the shorter man along the way. However, he doesn't expect Fang Lei to kick out at his ankle as he does so.

"Ah!" Wen Po's pained grunt rings out as he falls forward, catching himself by putting his hands on the ground. He realizes he's suddenly on top of his attacker, and Fang Lei has reflexively pushed his hands against his c.h.e.s.t as if to stop him from completely collapsing onto him. The two stare into each other's eyes in shock—

Wen Po: "......"

Fang Lei: "......"

A sudden gale of wind blows, startling the pair.

Fortunately, there were no crows around this time.