“Feng Gong, you’ve come to our territory, so you have to follow our rules.”
Feng Gong was that withered old man.
He thought it was normal for this wealthy heiress to know his name, given his prominent reputation.
He felt particularly smug at that moment.
"This is a martial arts school; we don't hold martial arts competitions."
"Knowing it's a martial arts school, you still dare to come even if you can't win?"
Xiao Xi wanted to laugh when she saw Feng Gong get choked up again.
"Alright, stop wasting time. Let's compete in metaphysics, but first you have to beat our Director Wu before we talk about competing with each other!"
"Or a martial arts contest?"
"Who said a martial arts contest isn't a contest of metaphysics? You all go and compete against him one by one, just show us what you've got."
Feng Gong understood somewhat, "Then he'd better be careful!"
Xiaoxi was too lazy to say anything more, "The competition will begin in twenty minutes."
Xiaoxi directed everyone to clear the area.
Then he asked Zhou Daqiang to go to the backyard and bring back all the food from under the grape trellis, and set up a large umbrella in the best viewing spot off the field.
The table was laden with countless fruits, braised dishes, and snacks, and tea was brewed again.
The five metaphysical enthusiasts only offered a token gesture, providing two long benches and five bottles of mineral water as their rest area.
The older woman, Qian Guihua, said dismissively, "Take the mineral water away."
Tch, you don't care?
Xiaoxi waved her hand, and someone naturally took away the bottled water.
The withered old man Feng Gong began a small pre-construction meeting with his group.
"That little girl underestimates us too much, making us compete with someone who knows nothing about metaphysics."
Everyone can compete against him however they like; we're guaranteed to win.
If the gym owner gets violent and uses martial arts, we shouldn't fight back; that would be against the rules.
Wu Changquan, who was on Xiaoxi's side, finally came to his senses.
"Xiaoxi? No way? You want your Grandpa Wu to fight them? But I don't know any of those fantasy things!"
"Grandpa Wu, have you been practicing the 'Ancient Talisman Techniques' that I gave you regularly?"
"have!"
Wu Changquan nodded earnestly; he had always been very hardworking.
"That settles it! I trust Grandpa Wu is the best, and Xiaoxi will always be there to back you up."
This sentence became Wu Changquan's anchor.
So Wu Changquan went to prepare. He changed into a short Tang suit and asked Zhou Daqiang to bring his small alchemy furnace and some talismans.
The gong sounded, and the competition began.
A table was placed on the training platform beforehand.
Feng Gong carried a large bag onto the stage and took out a compass and other miscellaneous items from it.
"Director Wu, my name is Feng Gong. I'd like to challenge you to a fortune-telling contest! We can tell you anything."
Upon hearing this, Wu Changquan felt reassured; he knew how to tell fortunes.
Feng Gong touched the compass, closed his eyes, and began to mutter incantations.
A few minutes later, Feng Gong opened his eyes and said, "I think the competition won't be able to start for a while; it's going to rain."
Wu Changquan picked nine pine needles from the side.
He lined up nine pine needles, which stood upright, and then rotated them in his palm for a while.
Then Wu Changquan knocked down the pine needles and arranged them on the table.
"A mere trifle!" Feng Gong scoffed.
Wu Changquan said loudly, "I have calculated that it will not rain, and I have also calculated that you will suffer hardship today."
"Bullshit! Nonsense! Can't you even tell fortunes?" Feng Gong couldn't help but swear.
"Hey Feng, watch your mouth! If you keep swearing, don't blame me for getting physical!"
Feng Gong also realized that he had been impolite, so he quickly composed himself and said, "Please show me the basis for your divination, Master."
"I have no basis for this, but I just figured it out. I also figured out that you will have three marriages, but you are still single now."
You have a hidden ailment because you sat in a charcoal stove when you were a child.
"Stop, stop, stop! Who told you to do this?" Feng Gong immediately stopped him.
If we keep talking, his underwear might be exposed.
Feng Gong did indeed predict that it would rain, but the time he predicted had passed, and it still hadn't rained at the training ground.
Meanwhile, it was raining outside, with the martial arts school wall serving as the boundary.
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