This Is the Jianghu

Drunken Immortal Tower.

The waiter carried a food box to the small table by the window.

A smile spread across his face as he brought out dish after dish.

Yellow River carp, crystal shrimp dumplings, jadeite dumplings, white jade loach soup, and two plates of the finest sauced beef.

The first four dishes were famous specialties of Drunken Immortal Tower, worth around ten taels of silver altogether. Even Yue Buqun and his wife, despite traveling the jianghu, might not indulge so extravagantly—let alone the Demonic Cult whelp who could not even afford two bowls of noodles.

Yue Lingshan hurriedly said, "You brought the wrong dishes. We didn't order any of this."

The waiter smiled. "Miss, Tiger Second Master sent this table to you."

Yue Lingshan followed the waiter's gaze. The burly man stood by the window, smiling as he clasped his hands toward her.

The dishes had clearly been sent because of Zhang Yu.

On the arena, blades and swords flashed. At the table, faced with such delicacies, Yue Lingshan swallowed and thought, So this is the jianghu?

On the arena, Zhang Yu had shown mercy to the giant man.

That stranger, Tiger Second Master, had sent them food.

The jianghu had fighting and killing, human relationships and worldly dealings, soaring passion, and treacherous twists.

Some people thrived in the jianghu, finding friends across the Three Mountains and Five Peaks.

Others could barely take a single step, encountering enemies everywhere and meeting obstacles at every turn.

Before this, the jianghu she knew had come from her parents' worries about the war between righteousness and evil and the revival of Mount Hua, from her senior brother's heroic determination to go down the mountain for wine even if it meant getting his buttocks beaten raw, and from the winding stories told by storytellers.

What it lacked was personal experience.

On the arena.

Zhang Yu swung his long sword in a wide arc, hacking the yellow-robed swordsman back again and again. The swordsman retreated to the edge of the arena, with nowhere left to go, and could only admit defeat.

Sweat covered the yellow-robed swordsman's head. He clasped his hands and said, "Brother Zhang, your swordsmanship is excellent. One move follows another, and you hacked me until I could barely tell north from south. May I ask the name of this sword technique?"

"This is called the Wood Chopping Sword Technique. My family was poor when I was young, and I comprehended it while chopping wood."

"Brother Zhang, you are truly gifted. Having created your own sword technique, you will surely become famous throughout the jianghu one day. This junior accepts his defeat wholeheartedly."

Zhang Yu secretly laughed. Naturally, he knew no sword technique at all. He had merely used the moves from the ordinary Sun Chasing Saber Technique issued to regular disciples by Blackwood Cliff with the Azure Water Sword.

"Zhang Liyu wins. Will the next challenger please step onto the arena?"

Including the previous challenger, Zhang Yu had defeated three people in a row.

"Ten taels of silver in hand. Time to make my escape."

With the support of the Green Jade Thumb Ring and his internal power, he could defeat ordinary martial artists at the mid-stage of Dan Energy.

Most of the jianghu figures beneath the arena practiced external martial arts.

Internal power required a teacher and lineage, and very few people could establish a foundation from childhood like Yue Lingshan.

When she was eight, her parents had arranged medicinal baths and elixir consumption for her and had her practice the Divine Bodyguard Scripture, preparing her to establish a high-quality Dantian.

When the original Zhang Yu was eight, he happened to hear jianghu stories from a storyteller. He then dreamed of becoming a white-robed hero with a sword and decided that once he grew up and had money, he would seek out a famous master and practice swordsmanship.

The difference in their outcomes was obvious.

The Mount Hua Sect might rank only moderately among the forces in The Smiling, Proud Wanderer, but that was in comparison with the Sun Moon Divine Cult, Shaolin, Wudang, and Songshan. With Yue Buqun at the Xiantian realm and Ning Zhongze at the perfected Houtian realm guarding the sect, it was enough to make a near-first-rate jianghu force like the Qingcheng Sect wary.

When the original Zhang Yu and Wang Liyu traveled the jianghu, they had once submitted a letter of introduction to Mount Hua. Yet they were turned away by Mount Hua disciples without even meeting Yue Buqun, on the grounds that their "foundations were inadequate and they were too old."

Most people in the jianghu were like the original Zhang Yu. In the end, no one knew whose cannon fodder they would become.

The Lin Estate steward asked with a beaming smile, "Is there anyone else who wishes to challenge him?"

There was still no movement below the arena.

Zhang Yu sensed that things were going badly. He had only come to earn those ten taels of silver...

In the embroidered tower.

Lin Youlan looked toward the arena, her eyes shining with unusual radiance.

"If my future husband were this man, that might not be bad."

"Outstanding martial arts, loyalty and affection, and a handsome face."

"Zhang Liyu? His name is a little too rustic. Written on an invitation, it doesn't pair well with the words 'Youlan.'"

"But it doesn't matter. Who can blame him when he is so handsome..."

Lin Kun, however, frowned. When it came to the marriage tournament, he had the final say.

In the previous few tournaments, he had taken every winner as an adopted son and sent them to be expended in battles against the Wild Wolf Gang.

Now that the Wild Wolf Gang had been destroyed, the Dragon Scale Association stood alone atop the jianghu of Pingyang.

He truly wanted to choose a good marriage match for Youlan.

Lin Kun looked at the composed Nine-Bend Sword, Zhong Zhen, standing beside him, then at the spirited young man Zhang Liyu on the arena. For a moment, he could not make up his mind.

Below the arena, everyone still stood hesitantly.

The few Dan Energy martial artists earlier had all lost to Fan Zhutian. The remaining people were either there to watch the excitement or were not very skilled, waiting to see which way the wind blew.

But after seeing him defeat Fan Zhutian and then decisively defeat two more people in succession, they had all abandoned the idea of picking up an easy victory.

"I'll challenge you."

At that moment, a voice came from the crowd.

Everyone turned to look. A young swordsman dressed in a light gauze robe walked through the crowd toward the arena, while a woman dressed similarly followed behind him, urging him to stop.

"Senior Brother, don't act rashly."

"Junior Sister, don't stop me."

"Before we came down the mountain, Master instructed us not to cause trouble recklessly."

"I'm not causing trouble!"

"But you can't beat him!"

The people nearby were all left speechless. Did she want her senior brother to enter the arena or not?

The man drew his long sword in anguish. "Junior Sister, what you said truly saddens me. I'll use the sword in my hand to defend a man's dignity!"

Seeing that someone had finally entered the arena, Zhang Yu's heart, which had been stuck in his throat, finally settled down.

He smiled and said, "May I ask your surname?"

The man did not answer. His eyes blazed with fury as he stared fixedly at Zhang Yu's face.

"Is there some misunderstanding, perhaps..."

"This is a martial contest. Life, death, victory, and defeat are all that matter. Enough chatter—take my sword!"

He thrust out his sword. His technique was nimble and elegant, sometimes swift as a spirit serpent, sometimes heavy as a mountain. It balanced offense and defense. Even with the support of the Green Jade Thumb Ring, Zhang Yu had to focus all his attention on dealing with him.

Zhang Yu was thoroughly puzzled. When had he offended this man?

After twenty or thirty exchanges, the two remained evenly matched, and both felt that their opponent was exceptionally difficult to deal with.

I must have lost my mind. I'm going to leave anyway, so why fight him to the death?

Zhang Yu spotted an opening and thrust toward his opponent's abdomen, forcing him to hurriedly draw back his sword and sweep it around. The Azure Water Sword struck the steel-patterned sword with a crisp metallic ring. Borrowing the force, he leaped four or five meters backward and maintained a safe distance from his opponent.

"Wait!"

The man broke into a cold sweat. He had practiced these thirty-six forms of the Dragon Tiger Sword Technique countless times. Even Martial Uncle Mo, while suppressing his internal power, could not easily find an opening in it. Yet his opponent seemed able to do so without effort. How could he be so monstrous?

He raised his sword and was about to attack when he saw his opponent make a gesture to pause. He asked, "What do you want?"

Zhang Yu clasped his hands. "That sword of yours appears ordinary, yet it carries the force of subduing dragons and taming tigers. Your internal power is already unfathomably deep. I know full well that continuing this fight would only bring me humiliation. I would rather admit defeat and help you and Miss Lin achieve a happy match."

He was momentarily tongue-tied. "You... You truly are an open and forthright man."

"Farewell."

After saying this, Zhang Yu sheathed his long sword, then deliberately glanced back at the embroidered tower with an expression of reluctance. He jumped off the arena and hurried away to collect his ten taels of silver.

All things considered, he had suffered a huge loss. Fan Zhutian had gotten forty taels, while he had only received this little. So who had actually won?