The morning was alive with noise.
Sunlight poured down from a cloudless sky, bathing the entire arena in brilliant light.
The stands were packed with people, stretching from the foot of the mountain all the way up its slopes. They were so densely crowded that they looked like a sea of heads.
Even more spectators had come to watch today than the day before yesterday.
Two days ago, some people had still hesitated over whether to spend that one Gold Soul Coin. Today, tickets were impossible to find.
After those who had watched the matches two days ago went home and embellished their stories, those who had missed out regretted it bitterly. They came early to queue today, afraid they wouldn't get a seat.
On the viewing platform, Tang Zhen called Ning Fengzhi aside and asked in a low voice:
"Sect Master Ning, do you think we could imitate Spirit Hall and create a publicity tool of our own for the Upper Three Sects?"
Yesterday's newspaper had infuriated him.
The front-page headline had read: "Clear Sky Twin Stars Are All Hype: The True Strength of the So-Called 'World's Number One Sect's' Younger Generation."
The small print below had piled on the embellishments, vividly describing Tang Hao and Tang Xiao's sorry state in the arena.
"Begging on their knees," "fleeing in disarray," "utterly unable to fight back"—each word felt like a needle stabbing into his heart.
He hadn't been able to eat all day. That night, he'd tossed and turned without sleep, the glaring words filling his mind.
"Difficult."
Ning Fengzhi shook his head and replied in a low voice:
"Spirit Hall's publicity tool is built on all those branches of Spirit Hall, large and small."
"They have branches in every city, every town, and every village on the continent, with