Sword Wine Accepts the Challenge—Watch the Three-foot Green Edge Slay the Mangy Fire Turkey

Sword Wine Accepts the Challenge—Watch the Three-foot Green Edge Slay the Mangy Fire Turkey

These past few days, business at the imperial Soul Fighting Arena had been rather bleak.

The reason was simple.

An outsider had swept through the entire arena.

The spectators certainly craved blood and loved brutal, flesh-on-flesh battles.

But as citizens of Heaven Dou City, they still held a sense of local pride in their hearts.

Their grand imperial capital had been beaten so badly by an outsider that it could not raise its head. Who could feel good about that?

Until this day...

The air inside the Soul Fighting Arena was thick with the stench of blood.

A figure walked in, dressed in plain white, standing tall and straight.

It was as though he had triggered some invisible switch.

Centered on the figure in white, the boisterous, roaring Soul Fighting Arena gradually fell into a strange silence.

When that iconic white robe and Faceless Mask came into view.

The spectators' eyes widened abruptly.

Then, an even more feverish wave of clamor erupted.

"Sw... Sword Wine?! It's Sword Wine! He finally came!"

"Great! Is Sword Wine accepting that fat fire turkey's challenge?!"

"Where are those idiots who said Sword Wine was too scared to fight and ran away? Get the hell out here!"

"One sword! Just one sword! Sword Wine, take him down with one sword like before!"

The frenzied cries surged over him like a tide.

Beneath the Faceless Mask, Li Zhixian's eyes were as cold as swords.

Mm.

Sword Wine was a cold and aloof swordsman.

Only solitude could highlight the bearing of a master swordsman.

Ye Lingling followed closely behind Li Zhixian.

Thunderous roars filled her ears.

Her blue eyes flickered faintly.

The sight truly startled her.

The Imperial Dou Team was quite famous in the Soul Fighting Arena as well, but compared to the Sword Wine before her, they were utterly overshadowed.

Looking at the tall, solitary back of the youth ahead, Ye Lingling blinked.

Perhaps...

This cold and distant Sword Wine.

Was the real Li Zhixian?

It seemed she understood him a little more deeply now.

The two entered a VIP private room one after the other.

The heavy door closed, shutting out the noise from outside.

Li Zhixian casually removed his mask, spun it around his fingertip, then lazily leaned back into the sofa and tossed a preserved plum from the table into his mouth.

"Tsk, pretending to be an expert is more tiring than having a fight."

"Mmm, the plums at this Soul Fighting Arena are really sweet."

Ye Lingling: "..."

Fine, she admitted that she still had a long way to go.

Li Zhixian's temperament was simply far too carefree and unpredictable.

With Sword Wine's reputation, there were naturally people specifically assigned to arrange his matches.

The time was set for eight tomorrow evening.

It was still early when they left the Soul Fighting Arena.

Li Zhixian felt like taking a stroll.

He turned to look at Ye Lingling, who was following right behind him, and said helplessly,

"Hey, I'm going to eat. Are you still following me?"

Ye Lingling lightly shook the sachet at her waist, the gold coins inside jingling brightly.

"I have money. I'll treat you."

"I know the Ye Family is rich."

Li Zhixian sighed and shook his head.

"Forget it. If you want to follow, then follow."

He was not worried about being exposed.

Sword Wine was famous throughout the imperial capital, but no one had ever seen the true face beneath the mask.

Ye Lingling wore a black veil, and though her long blue hair was somewhat eye-catching, unusual hair colors were hardly rare on the Douluo Continent.

They wandered around, taking in the sights.

Having been cooped up in the Ice and Fire Yin-Yang Well for some time, Li Zhixian was in high spirits. He strolled from afternoon until dusk.

At last.

He stopped at a noodle shop by the street.

"One bowl of noodle soup, one plate of side dishes, and... two cloves of garlic."

Ye Lingling said,

"The same as him."

"Coming right up. Please wait a moment, you two."

Before long, the noodles, side dishes, and garlic were brought over.

Li Zhixian rolled up his sleeves, loudly slurping the steaming noodles. Then he picked up some side dishes with his chopsticks, bit into half a clove of garlic, and sighed in satisfaction.

Across from him, Ye Lingling imitated him, only to have the spicy garlic bring tears to her eyes.

Li Zhixian shook his head and laughed at the sight.

Nightfall descended, and crowds flowed through the streets.

On both sides of the alley, vendors gradually lit their oil lamps.

The uncle next door fanned his grill, and smoke carried the aroma of roasted lamb skewers through the air; diagonally across from them, chestnuts crackled in an iron wok as the vendor called out loudly; a little girl with a ponytail watched over a bamboo basket filled with orange-red persimmon cakes.

The sounds and smells of the entire alley fermented beneath the dusky sky into the thick, vibrant warmth of mortal life.

Just then.

At the wine stall across from the noodle shop.

The storyteller in green robes slapped his wooden clapper with a sharp crack, drawing countless glances.

Finding it amusing, Li Zhixian turned around with his bowl of noodles in hand and looked over.

Ye Lingling copied him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, listen closely to this grand drama from the imperial Soul Fighting Arena—"

"There stood the Evil Fire Phoenix, his red hair bristling, his boot grinding down on Yufeng's chest. With a crack, the sound of breaking bones made one's teeth ache! The tiles of the arena shattered, spreading into spiderweb cracks!"

"That bastard threw back his head and laughed wildly. 'That's it? That's it? This is all your imperial capital has?!'"

"The audience fell utterly silent. Even the bookies froze, their hands clutching betting slips suspended in midair!"

"But that madman still found it insufficient! With a flick of his toe, he kicked Yufeng off the stage. A bloody mist sprayed ten feet into the air! Pointing at the heavens, he roared, 'Tell your strongest Sword Wine to get his ass out here! I'll break his sword and spill his wine!'"

Having said that.

The storyteller seemed to have expected this already.

With a swish, he opened his folding fan and shielded his face.

The entire wine stall erupted in fury. The patrons threw whatever they had at hand, their curses shaking the air.

"You little bastard, are you even from Heaven Dou City?!"

"What the hell are you talking about?! I've been sick of you for ages! Eat my shoe!"

"What Evil Fire Phoenix? He's a fat fire turkey!"

"Just wait and see whether Sword Wine beats the shit out of him tomorrow!"

Li Zhixian turned to Ye Lingling and asked,

"Is what this storyteller said true?"

Ye Lingling thought for a moment, then nodded seriously.

"Mm."

She had not gone to the Soul Fighting Arena that day and did not know the exact circumstances.

But the storyteller had described it so vividly, so it was probably... true, right?

"Alright, got it."

Li Zhixian looked toward the wine stall again.

The storyteller lowered his folding fan.

It revealed a clean, rather smug-looking face.

Heh! Look at that!

Now this was professionalism!

He knew perfectly well when his audience would curse him!

He clasped his hands toward the crowd, picked up the wooden clapper smeared with rotten egg yolk, and struck it again with a sharp crack.

"I'm not finished yet!"

"That Evil Fire Phoenix may have some skill, but he's still far from qualified to challenge Sword Wine of our imperial capital!"

"The banner bearing Sword Wine's name is still flying over our imperial Soul Fighting Arena, sparks curling around it!"

"As long as Sword Wine has not lost, who dares say our imperial capital is weak?!"

"Now, watch tomorrow's grand performance—"

Crack!

The wooden clapper slammed down!

"The Three-foot Green Edge Slays the Mangy Fire Turkey!"

The patrons' throats bobbed. For several breaths, the entire stall was silent.

Then someone shouted "Good!" first, and the crowd immediately burst into thunderous applause and deafening cheers.

Copper coins rained down upon the storyteller.

This time.

The storyteller did not use his fan to shield himself.

Instead, he happily held up a bowl to catch them.

"Not bad."

Li Zhixian pinched a gold coin between his fingers.

With a flick.

Golden light flashed.

The coin landed steadily on the storyteller's table, dazzling among the pile of copper coins.

The storyteller excitedly looked around, but could not find the person who had tipped him.

Only the table at the noodle shop across the street remained—

One bowl of noodles had been emptied, while the other was still more than half full, steam continuing to rise from it.

The people were already gone.