Chapter 67 – The Fighting Ring

Jing Chu’s fierce palm strike became mired in a strange gust of wind, stalling for half a breath. That half-breath of hesitation was all Yue Song needed to find an opening, and he swept Jing Chu off the stage with a single blow of his rod.

“Cough,” — Yue Song’s strike had been aimed squarely at a vital point, delivered with such vicious force that it was clear he had no intention of letting Jing Chu return to the ring.

Jing Chu spat out a mouthful of blood and waved off Zero-Two’s offered hand. “Sorry to have disappointed everyone.”

He puzzled over that fleeting sensation of obstruction, turning it over in his mind without being able to make sense of it, and could only blame himself for the mistake.

“Senior, please rest.”

Zero-Two swept his gaze across the faces of the others. Before he could speak, one man said, “I’ll go.”

A ripple of surprise passed through the crowd. No one had expected him to volunteer. They all moved in Prenatal realm circles — even those who had never met had heard of one another. This man was widely known for his indifference to worldly affairs, drifting like a water lily wherever the current took him, rarely taking the initiative to act.

Though he wore the battle robes of the Crimson Blood Army, they did nothing to conceal the weathered, desolate air that seemed to emanate from within him.

Despite his impoverished appearance, he was a swordsman of considerable renown in the jianghu. Some said he had once been born into wealth, but traded his entire fortune for a slender sword, thereafter wandering the world alone.

Although he had only reached the minor completion of the Prenatal realm, swordsmen had always prided themselves on their sharpness and prowess. Zero-Two had no reason to deny him the stage. “Brother Baili, be careful.”

Baili gave a nod, as though he had just returned from some faraway reverie.

Yue Song planted his iron rod against the ground. Fighting as a soldier represented the army as a whole — there was no need for one to announce one’s name. Seeing Baili take a longsword from the weapon rack, he immediately bellowed, “Come then! Today, with this Tiger-Subduing Rod, I’ll make every last one of you submit!”

As the tension on the stage reached a breaking point, Jing Chu let out a sudden sound of realization and looked strangely toward his companions. “I seem to recall that Baili’s sword is a slender, flexible one.”

Someone replied, “There are slender swords on the rack too.”

At that moment, Zero-Two also remembered something, and let out a heavy sigh. “This is bad.”

It was true that Baili used a slender sword — but it was a soft sword, the kind flexible enough to be coiled into a ring.

When the rule about “using regulation weapons” had been established, all weapons, including the unusual ones some fighters used, had been replicated in a uniform material.

However, Baili’s soft sword could not be reproduced with that material. When Zero-Two had asked him about it at the time, he had simply said, “Then just a slender sword.”

Zero-Two had thought that with so many Prenatal realm cultivators on hand, Baili didn’t necessarily need to take the stage, and so he had let the matter go.

How could he have forgotten about this!

Jing Chu shook his head. “The rule was meant to ensure fairness, yet it has ended up trapping one of our own.”

Zero-Two could only give an awkward smile. His gaze drifted toward the Eagle perched on the Gilded Folding Chair, and he consoled himself that Her Highness surely hadn’t intended to collectively sabotage them — there must be deeper meaning behind it.

Baili’s swordsmanship was light and flowing, laced with a clinging, entangling quality — like a lithe beauty wrapping herself around you, binding your heart, only to push you away without a moment’s hesitation the next instant, leaving behind an air of utter, unfeeling detachment. It nearly drove Yue Song to abandon his iron rod and fight him barehanded.

Yue Song, red-faced with fury, swung his rod in a full arc and brought it crashing down. The rod’s momentum scraped against the air and drew heat like phantom fire, the wind howling with terrible force. Yet Baili merely stepped back once, flicked his slender sword aside without ever touching the rod — and still, Yue Song heard a clear, ethereal hum, followed by the sensation of his rod being jolted from his grasp.

Again. Again!

“You insolent wretch — do you dare fight me properly!”

Baili’s slender sword vibrated three times in quick succession, sending waves of dizziness crashing over Yue Song. Seizing the moment, Baili thrust his sword forward, aimed at the heart.

But the trajectory shifted inexplicably, merely grazing past Yue Song’s ribs.

Heart and ribs — the difference was more than an inch or two.

Zero-Two and the others also noticed something was wrong. A swordsman of his caliber would never make such a basic error.

Baili seemed not to notice, only abandoning his earlier defensive stance as his assault suddenly grew fierce and relentless.

Inside the Wooden House outside Xiaohan Town, Zhan Changfeng stilled the hand that had been grinding ink, “watching” as Baili’s sword missed again and again — “coincidences” too frequent to be ignored.

Her eagle’s eyes swept the entire venue and finally settled on the spectator stands. One person there was rigid with tension, fine beads of sweat seeping from their brow, lips moving in silent murmur.

“Go to the Yue Family estate. Conduct a thorough search.”

The Coachman stiffened. “Understood!”

A remote place backed against treacherous seas and hemmed in by the surrounding southern provinces, a family that barely passed muster, commanding no more than twenty thousand troops — where did they find the audacity to carve out their own fiefdom and defy the world?

Baili was now using a straight, slender hard sword, and many of his techniques could not be executed with it. After one “mishap” after another, he finally lost.

Yue Kun and the others, who had been holding their breath, exhaled in relief. Those who failed their challenge could not return to the ring — eliminating even one was a gain. It was a pity they hadn’t managed to deal him a serious injury.

Zero-Two’s gaze was heavy as he looked at Baili. “Thank you, brother.”

“Mm,” Baili shook his head slightly. “Do you have a plan?”

“I do!”

The others exchanged confused looks. “What riddle are you two speaking in?”

Beside them, Jing Chu stroked his short beard. As another person directly affected, he had more or less grasped the situation. “The fights ahead aren’t going to be easy.”

They had lost two rounds right at the start, and the opposing side had someone providing covert assistance. Winning would be no simple matter.

“I must trouble everyone further,” Zero-Two said with calm composure. “Win or lose, for now — please help me keep them occupied. The longer, the better.”

“Leave it to me then.” A hulking man built like a small mountain pounded his own chest and grinned with a hunger for battle.

“I’m counting on you, Brother tie.” Zero-Two clasped his fists, then stepped back into the ranks of the army, quickly swallowed up by the thousands of soldiers until he was nowhere to be seen.

After half an incense stick’s worth of rest, the fighting ring resumed.

The second son of the Yue Family was now feeling uncertain. “If the first four rounds go to eldest uncle and the last five to second uncle, the odds would speak for themselves — but now we need second uncle to hold out through all eight rounds…”

Yue Kun’s face had gone dark enough to drip ink. The opposing side had actually fielded three Prenatal realm cultivators — something he had utterly failed to anticipate.

Ordinarily, in a nine-round fighting ring match, five wins made a victor. But someone had once said that war is unpredictable and that only the final outcome matters, and so the rules had been set such that the last one standing was the winner.

“I was careless. I should have had second uncle fight last.” Yue Kun could no longer avoid preparing for the possibility of Yue Song’s defeat. He pulled out a jade pendant and pressed it into the second son’s hand. “Brother, ride to Xiaohan Town at full gallop and bring someone back for me.”

The second son leaned in, listened to his instructions, and dared not linger.

The Eagle resting on the flagpole took to the sky. A clear cry rang out through the clouds as its wings cut across the riding road and the lush, verdant mountain scenery.

“Capture him alive — one hundred spirit stones,” said Zhan Changfeng.

A masked bounty hunter gave a nod and leapt into the forest like a tiger, the sound of hoofbeats fading from nothing to faint to thunderous — and in the split second they crossed paths, he materialized behind the second son of the Yue Family like a specter. A taut, thin rope cinched around the burly young man’s neck and dragged him from his horse.

The horse kept galloping. The second son of the Yue Family clawed at the wire cutting into his flesh, producing a rasping, wheezing sound, blood from his neck dyeing both his hands red.

The riding road happened to be deserted. By the time the next passerby came along, there was no trace of the Yue Family’s second son — not even a bloodstain.

“You’re very good. Are you interested in another job?” Zhan Changfeng was satisfied with the bounty hunter the Coachman had found from the black market, and so she asked.

The bounty hunter’s eyes lit up. “Killing a Postnatal realm cultivator — one hundred spirit stones. Killing a minor Prenatal realm — one hundred and fifty. Killing a peak Prenatal realm — three hundred. Critically wounding a Prenatal realm at full completion — five hundred and eighty.”

Zhan Changfeng pressed a hand to the second son’s head. “If you know any reliable associates in the same trade, feel free to bring them along. I’ll give you fifty spirit stones per referral. How does that sound?”

The bounty hunter watched as she casually extracted a person’s memories, and a deep reverence stirred within him. “I do know a few reliable hunters.”

“Mid-August. Come find me.”

“Understood.”

The bounty hunter departed with his payment. Zhan Changfeng glanced at the second son of the Yue Family and found his condition to be adequate — at least he hadn’t turned into a fool the way Gongsun Long had.

Her Soul-Searching Technique had improved considerably.

The second son of the Yue Family, his windpipe nearly severed, could not form a coherent word. He pointed a trembling finger at her for a long while, his terror and shock nearly overflowing.

Fortunately, he died soon after.

Zhan Changfeng picked up the jade pendant from his body, her gaze deep and heavy, unable to reach a decision for a moment.

So the Gongsun Clan actually had connections with someone inside the Bureau of Patrol.

(End of Chapter)