The morning passed quickly, vanishing in the blink of an eye. Before they knew it, noon had arrived.
The sun hung high overhead. The white frost that could still be seen in the morning had now melted away, but ordinary people had long stopped paying attention to such things. Even those who had discussed how the frost had lingered into May now had their attention utterly seized by the martial matches on the platforms.
Entertainment was scarce in ancient times to begin with, and here they could even place bets.
"Quick, hit him! Hit him! Throw a punch! Ow, how did he dodge that? My bet! It absolutely can't lose! Hit him! Quick! Kick! Right! Ow!"
"Hey! Well done! That's exactly how it should be! What a brilliant kick! As expected of an expert famed for his leg techniques!"
"Get up there already! Stop defending all the time—attack! Go! Hurry up!"
Beneath the five platforms, thunderous noise erupted from time to time, whether cheers or jeers. It was immensely lively. To see whether it was a mule or a horse, one had to lead it out for a trot—nothing could have been more fitting for wandering martial artists.
So long as one possessed true skill, one could become the center of attention on these platforms. It did not matter whether one was handsome or ugly, young or old; only real martial skill spoke here. Even if one had been a nobody in the martial world, defeating an opponent would earn thunderous cheers. How could that not set one's blood boiling?
The commoners beneath the platforms watched in rapt attention. It was not merely because they could watch, but because they could also bet. Betting was like countless tiny hooks, directly snagging their hearts.
Most of these people would not normally