No one knew who had spread the word that the second Mount Hua Tournament would be held on the Double Ninth Festival, but the news set the entire martial world ablaze.
Hadn't the Quanzhen Sect risen to become the greatest sect under heaven because Wang Chongyang won the first Mount Hua Tournament?
Who in the martial world didn't care about fame?
The last tournament had made the Five Greats. What would this one bring?
The Double Ninth Festival had yet to arrive, but people across the martial world were already hurrying toward Mount Hua.
Famous or unknown, they feared missing the tournament. They packed early and set out with disciples or friends, often in groups of three or five, bringing a flood of business to the inns and teahouses along the way.
A teahouse in Huayin County was already packed.
The owner had hastily put up several awnings outside, but there still wasn't room for everyone seeking a rest. Many sat on whatever rocks they could find nearby, taking a break or chatting about the martial world.
At a table in the center sat a fierce-looking old man with graying hair and beard. He wore a vermilion robe and matching boots, looking dressed for a celebration.
His thick right hand gripped an Eight Trigrams Chain Saber as he sat with his eyes closed, resting.
"Isn't that Old Master Qin of the Eight Trigrams Sect? He's the top fighter in Shaanxi. I never thought even he'd come. Didn't they say he'd gone into seclusion and wouldn't emerge? Has his martial arts improved again?"
"You don't understand, brother. This is the Mount Hua Tournament! An event that comes along once in decades! Everyone who climbs that mountain is bound to be a hero. Just wait. More masters will show up."
"Who in