Chapter 4647 — Which of Us Is Better Looking
The Blossom Guardian · Page 1 of 2
Yan Xinlan had taken a dislike to Wei Zhao from the very start. A feminist of her stripe, she abhorred nothing more than a man with a woman on each arm, and here one of them was Ning Xuefei, heir to the West Island. She had only held her tongue for the sake of appearances, pressing her displeasure down into her heart.
But now that this farce had erupted, she could no longer keep her face as hostess of the banquet. This Wei Zhao looked the part of some rare talent, yet beneath it all he was a cad who took a woman and cast her off—a damned faithless wretch!
With that single sentence Yan Xinlan had, in effect, passed judgment on Wei Zhao. She had not put him to open shame, but she had made plain where she and the West Island stood on the matter. The company fell to whispering and murmuring, pointing and gesturing at Wei Zhao, who sat there unmoved as though none of it concerned him. Even now, with matters come to this pass, he was still putting on airs—the fellow's hide was thick indeed, worthy of the famous poseur-in-chief!
"The Island Mistress speaks the truth. Wei Zhao, you wretch, you have disgraced the North Island—and disgraced it before outsiders at that. And you still have the gall to style yourself an official envoy? You have dragged the North Island's name through the mud!" Kang Jingming sprang out to curse him, seizing the moment.
The crux of a frame-up lies in denying the victim any chance to explain: plant a foregone conclusion in every mind, then strike while the iron is hot and nail the charge down. After that, no explanation would avail; it would only blacken him further, and the more he explained, the more contempt he would earn.
The timing was perfect. Kang Jingming's outburst was just the stone to drop on a man already sinking. It might not make Wei Zhao a public enemy outright, but at least it would leave him covered in mud. Hereafter, anyone thinking of drawing near such a notorious scoundrel would weigh the pressure of public opinion carefully—to say nothing of a princess of the West Island as lofty as Ning Xuefei.
On the verge of being condemned by all and sundry as a faithless cad, Wei Zhao showed not the slightest alarm. He turned and cast a meaning-laden glance at Kang Jingming and Xu Lingchong. So it was these two who were behind it.
Under that glance—whether from the pressure on his mind or the sheer force of the man's presence—Kang Jingming's face went stiff, as though a hammer had struck him in the chest, and he staggered, nearly toppling in a heap. Even Xu Lingchong beside him looked distinctly grim. A single look had left them both crushed beneath a mountain. Wei Zhao had grown to such terrifying heights!
At the memory of Ma Dangfeng, a mid-Nascent Soul cultivator, crippled by a single move of Wei Zhao's for no discernible reason, a chill ran through them both. The glee their scheme had just kindled vanished on the instant. Even if they managed to leave Wei Zhao utterly in the wrong this time, the fellow remained a formidable enemy not to be taken lightly.
Still, at least this time they could make the bastard swallow a bitter loss in silence. Call it collecting a little interest; later, once the higher-ups gave the nod, they would find a way to do the cursed rival to death properly.
Under the gaze of all present, Wei Zhao glanced at the woman still weeping and playacting, and the corner of his mouth curved into an amused arc. Trying as the situation was, to him it was no more than child's play—he had at least a hundred ways to clear his name.
Wei Zhao was about to speak when Ning Xuefei, seated beside him, beat him to it. She looked the woman over once, then turned to Kang Jingming: "This is nothing but one woman's word. How can you be so certain? Or do you already know the inside story?"