"Zhang Ji?" Shi Qingjue was utterly astonished. "You're... that Zhang Ji?"
Zhang Ji nodded solemnly, though he looked slightly weary. "What good would pretending to be Zhang Ji in a place like this do me?"
Shi Qingjue was no longer surprised but terrified. He had warned Gao Yang long ago not to stray too far from the Protector General's Residence. He bitterly regretted not insisting at the time. "You—you're..."
"Mm. Who do you think will win?"
Shi Qingjue glanced toward the arena. More than a hundred people had formed several rings, shouting encouragement for the betting match about to begin and placing their wagers. A gap had been left directly in front of his table, with several saber-wielders maintaining order so the sect master and the others could watch. From a distance, Gao Yang seemed to truly understand the rules here. While loosening his arms and legs, he was also selling himself to the spectators.
"Bet as much as you like! What do you want? An arm? A leg? A life..."
The burly man opposite him silently displayed his powerful muscles and resolute expression.
"I don't know," Shi Qingjue answered quickly. He would much rather there not be a duel.
"People don't know themselves, but bystanders see clearly. Let me choose for you. You believe your opponent will win, so you'll bet two hundred taels of silver on him. I favor your friend, so I'll bet two hundred taels as well. We'll wager against each other; it has nothing to do with anyone else."
The young saber-wielder beside Zhang Ji waved a hand, and the tavern attendants quickly brought over several ingots of silver and placed them on the table.
Shi Qingjue waved both hands repeatedly. "I believe in Big Brother Gao. I don't want to bet. I—I don't have