Someone Brought Gold Notes Right to His Door

After Yun Qianyue left, the purple bamboo grove returned to its former tranquility.

Although Yun Qianyue's words hadn't shaken his resolve to pursue the martial path, they had reminded him of an undeniable reality: resources.

"Hundred Refinements Fifth Layer Bone Penetrating Force requires a vast amount of qi and blood to wash through the marrow. Relying on hard training alone is too slow. Fifty-year-old Stone Bell Milk is no longer very effective for the Nine Revolutions Viscera Refining Secret Record. I'll need spirit medicines that are at least eighty years old."

Qin Jue furrowed his brows, calculating in his mind. "But spirit medicines of that age cost at least a thousand gold in the city. The little I have saved up wouldn't begin to cover what I need to reach the fifth layer, let alone the sixth."

The old saying that scholars needed books and martial artists needed wealth hadn't lied.

"Looks like I can't afford to waste a single moment."

Qin Jue put away his Cold Iron Sword, straightened his clothes, and headed down the mountain.

At Qingcang Academy, Martial Arena.

Today was a sparring day. Outer Court Disciples could take the stage to settle grudges or freely challenge one another, honing their martial skills and gaining combat experience.

Qin Jue was returning from the bamboo grove in the rear hills. When he passed the Martial Arena, he found it already packed so tightly that not even a drop of water could get through. A sea of heads filled the place. He didn't push his way forward, merely stopping at the edge of the crowd.

At that moment, two disciples were locked in a fierce clash on the central stone platform.

The man on the left wielded a long spear. It lunged like a dragon, sweeping in broad, powerful arcs with the brutal killing intent of a battlefield formation. The man on the right used a soft sword as thin as a cicada's wing. His movements were elusive, his swordplay nimble and uncanny, like a slippery venomous snake constantly probing for an opening.

"That's Wang Meng, ranked five hundred and sixteenth in Battle Merit, and Li Yi, ranked four hundred and thirty-first!"

"Tsk, tsk, Wang Meng has made plenty of progress with his Overlord Spear. I heard he took down a bandit gang of seven all by himself near Tongtian River last month. Not one of them survived his spear!"

"Li Yi's Willow Branch Sword is pretty good too. Look at his footwork—it's like he's a ghost. Wang Meng has swept at him with all his might several times, and he's dodged every blow."

The surrounding disciples chattered excitedly, their blood running hot as they watched.

Qin Jue's gaze settled on Li Yi. He watched in silence for a while, then gave a slight nod. "That's a decent sword style. It's a Mortal Tier Upper Grade technique, Willow Branch Sword. To train it to this level is a respectable start."

A tall disciple standing beside him shot him a disdainful glance and snorted. "A respectable start? Easy for you to say! Senior Brother Li Yi is a little prodigy with a real talent for swordsmanship. He's already trained his Willow Branch Sword to the 'Leaves Fall in the Wind' stage, just one step away from mastery! Who are you, some nobody, to talk about swordsmanship?"

The tall disciple was clearly one of Li Yi's admirers, and he had evidently never seen Qin Jue before. Hearing Qin Jue make such a "brazen" assessment had instantly annoyed him.

Qin Jue merely smiled faintly and didn't bother arguing.

You couldn't discuss ice with a summer insect. In the eyes of someone like him, a former Sword Dao Grandmaster, Li Yi's swordsmanship really did count as no more than a "respectable start." The transitions between his moves were still a little clumsy, and he hadn't fully integrated the momentum of his sword. He had at least seven or eight openings. If Qin Jue sparred with him, three moves would be enough to defeat him.

Bang!

Just then, the match on the stage ended. Wang Meng seized a gap as Li Yi shifted his stance and swept his spear across. The ferocious force sent Li Yi flying, sword and all, before he crashed heavily to the ground below the platform.

A burst of cheers erupted from the crowd.

Qin Jue turned away, about to leave, when an enraged roar exploded above the Martial Arena!

"Qin—Jue!"

The man's clothes were somewhat disheveled, and his once-handsome face was now terrifyingly pale, his cheeks gaunt and his eyes bloodshot.

It was Ning Zhiyuan.

But Ning Zhiyuan bore no trace of the refined bearing he'd once had as a young lord of a prominent family. A violent, unstable aura radiated from him. He was like a mad dog driven into a corner.

"Hundred Refinements Fifth Layer?"

Qin Jue narrowed his eyes, his keen senses detecting the hollow yet frenzied fluctuations of power inside his body.

"Something's wrong. His qi and blood are abundant, but they're like a fire with no roots, burning through his life force. He's taken some kind of vicious drug that's pushing his potential beyond its limits."

Qin Jue gave a cold laugh inwardly. He saw right through Ning Zhiyuan's condition.

"Qin Jue! You coward, hiding away in your shell—you finally decided to show your face!"

Ning Zhiyuan glared at Qin Jue, his chest heaving. Each time he breathed, two streams of white mist poured from his nostrils.

"I knew you'd come... I've been waiting for you... waiting for you this whole time!"

Ning Zhiyuan muttered to himself like a madman, his mouth twisting into a cruel grin. "For the past few days, every night I dreamed of pinning you beneath my foot on the Martial Stage, listening to you howl and watching you beg for mercy! It felt wonderful..."

The watching disciples shuddered at his words and hurriedly retreated a few steps.

"Has Ning Zhiyuan gone mad? He seems like a completely different person."

"Shh, keep your voice down! Don't you see the blade in his hand? That's a Mortal Tier Upper Grade Frost Blade! And that aura he's giving off... heavens, Hundred Refinements Fifth Layer! He actually broke through!"

"So what if he's at the fifth layer? He looks like he's gone berserk. Still, Qin Jue's in trouble now. Getting targeted by a lunatic like that—he'll lose a layer of skin even if he survives."

Listening to the chatter around him, Qin Jue remained perfectly calm. He looked at Ning Zhiyuan as if watching a clown perform, without even the urge to draw his sword.

"Ning Zhiyuan, did you block my path just to spout this nonsense?" Qin Jue asked in an even tone.

That dismissive attitude made Ning Zhiyuan tremble with rage. His eyes reddened as they filled with blood.

Back on the Martial Stage, Qin Jue had looked at him with that same expression before shattering his pride with a single sword strike. Now Ning Zhiyuan had broken through to the fifth layer and wielded a divine weapon. Why did this damn collateral-branch brat still dare look at him that way?!

"Nonsense? Hahahaha! Good! Very good!"

Ning Zhiyuan laughed in fury, his laughter shrill and grating. He suddenly stepped forward and pointed the Frost Blade straight at Qin Jue's brow. Cold light flickered along its tip.

"Qin Jue! I challenge you to a fight to the death!"

"Here! Tomorrow!"

"We'll wager all the Battle Merit we have! We'll settle who's stronger, and decide who lives or dies! If you lose, I want you to kneel before Su Jin, kowtow to me three times, cripple your own cultivation, and crawl out of Qingcang Academy!"

His words caused an uproar.

A fight to the death! It was the most intense way to settle a grudge at Qingcang Academy. Once the death pact was signed, life and death on the Martial Stage were beyond question—even the academy elders had no authority to interfere.

Everyone turned to Qin Jue, waiting for his answer.

"All your Battle Merit?"

Qin Jue shook his head, the corners of his mouth lifting in mockery. "Ning Zhiyuan, you've probably forgotten that you already lost half your Battle Merit before the last competition. The pitiful little bit you have left now..."

Qin Jue paused. "It's no longer enough to interest me."

"So I refuse. Your stake is too small."

The entire arena fell silent.

Everyone stood frozen, staring at Qin Jue as if they'd misheard.

What had he said?

Not interested? The stake was too small?

What... What kind of arrogance was that? What kind of contempt?

This wasn't just a refusal. It was the cruelest way of trampling on Ning Zhiyuan's pitiful dignity!

"You... what did you say?" The muscles in Ning Zhiyuan's face twitched violently. He could hardly believe his ears. He'd ruined his own future to gain his current strength, all so he could crush Qin Jue in front of everyone and avenge his humiliation!

And his opponent didn't even care to fight him!

"I said..." Qin Jue's expression finally shifted, pity showing in his eyes. "You're too weak. I'd feel my sword was dirty if I used it to kill you."

"Arghhh!"

Those words struck straight to the heart, the final straw that broke the camel's back. Ning Zhiyuan completely lost control. He threw his head back and let out an inhuman roar. The aura inside him went berserk, his qi and blood surging wildly as he prepared to attack again, heedless of everything.

Just then—

"Heh. Since my worthless cousin is so eager, I'll join in and add something to this farce."

A composed voice drifted over from behind the crowd.

The crowd parted of its own accord. From the opening emerged a handsome young man in white, surrounded by a group of followers. His expression was cold, his gaze icy, and a faint smile played on his lips—the detached indifference of someone standing high above the world and looking down on all living things.

It was Ning Wuque of the Ning Family's main branch, ranked ninth on the Outer Prefecture Battle Merit List!

"It's Senior Brother Ning!"

"Heavens, even he's been drawn into this!"

Ning Wuque's arrival instantly calmed the out-of-control scene. Even Ning Zhiyuan, who had been on the verge of going berserk, shuddered when he saw his cousin. The madness in his eyes receded, replaced by deep-rooted fear.

"You're an embarrassment."

Ning Wuque didn't even glance at Ning Zhiyuan, merely tossing out the words offhandedly. Ning Zhiyuan's face turned deathly pale. He lowered his head, bit his lip, and didn't dare so much as breathe too loudly.

"You're Qin Jue?"

"Despite your lowly background, you have a decent amount of composure. No wonder you drove my worthless cousin to this."

Qin Jue looked up and met Ning Wuque's gaze. Far from showing the slightest respect, he met him head-on. "What can I do for you, Senior Brother Ning?"

"I'm not here to give you advice."

Ning Wuque flicked a finger. A gleaming gold note drifted lightly through the air.

"I just heard you say the stakes were too small, and you weren't interested?"

"This is a thousand gold notes. If you can beat Ning Zhiyuan, the money—and his Battle Merit—will all be yours."

"How about it?"

Ning Wuque looked at Qin Jue as if he were a fish about to take the bait. "A thousand gold notes ought to be enough to buy your life... No, enough to make you interested in fighting, wouldn't you say?"

A thousand gold notes!

The crowd erupted. Those were a thousand gold notes! Countless eyes reddened, and people began breathing heavily. The wealth of a direct descendant of the Ning Family was truly terrifying!

Everyone turned to Qin Jue again.

This time, Qin Jue finally looked interested.

"Heh. You should've said so sooner. Turns out someone's rushing over to throw money at me," he chuckled inwardly.

For him, it was exactly the kind of resource he urgently needed. Every revolution of the Nine Revolutions Viscera Refining Secret Record required a mountain of medicinal ingredients. He'd already used up the three portions of Stone Bell Milk, so this money had come at just the right time.

"Since someone's offering to die and bringing money with him, I'd be a fool not to take it."

Qin Jue raised his head, looked past the mad Ning Zhiyuan, and met Ning Wuque's gaze. He said calmly:

"Fine."

"Tomorrow, at this time, on this stage. I accept."

"Good."

Ning Wuque withdrew his gaze and didn't look at Qin Jue again. As far as he was concerned, Qin Jue was already a dead man.

"Zhiyuan, don't disappoint me on the Martial Stage tomorrow. If you lose... you know the consequences."

Ning Zhiyuan stared at Qin Jue, his eyes so full of hatred it seemed ready to spill over. "Qin Jue, enjoy your last day. Tomorrow, I won't make the same mistake. I'll break every bone in your body, one inch at a time!"

Leaving behind those threats, Ning Zhiyuan gripped his blade and strode away, the Killing Intent clinging to him like a shadow.

Only after the two had gone did the frozen atmosphere in the Martial Arena erupt.

"He accepted! Qin Jue actually accepted!"

"This is going to be good! A fight to the death!"

"Qin Jue won last time, sure, but wasn't that partly luck? And now Ning Zhiyuan's at the fifth layer, with a Mortal Tier Upper Grade artifact in hand. Qin Jue's probably in for a rough time."

"Men die for wealth, birds die for food. A thousand gold notes are tempting, but you have to live long enough to spend them."

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