"Brother Ma, magnificent!"
"I've long heard of Brother Ma's fame. Seeing him today, I can tell it was well deserved."
"..."
The crowd erupted in cheers, no less loudly than the Golden Saber Sect had earlier.
Ma Mingfei wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and cupped his fists toward Zhang Yan. "I didn't let you down."
Zhang Yan hurried forward to support him and asked about his injuries. Ma Mingfei said he was fine.
Two bouts had now been fought, with each side winning one.
Whether they could take the medicine away would come down to the last bout.
Chen Kong gave a cold smile and turned toward the Golden Saber Sect disciples. Suddenly, a young man stepped out.
He wore plain clothes, with a Black Belt hanging at his waist. His expression was stern.
The moment the young man appeared, the mood on the Golden Saber Sect's side changed. Their voices, subdued after Xu Zhen's defeat, rose in excitement again.
"Junior Brother Song is stepping up."
"This one's in the bag."
"I doubt anyone from Celebration Hall will dare face him."
"..."
The young man seemed to have quite a reputation. His arrival set not only the Golden Saber Sect talking, but Celebration Hall as well.
"Song Que! The Golden Saber Sect master's nephew."
"He's famous. They say he's mastered the Eighteen Martial Arts."
"With his family background, breaking through wouldn't be hard. But he insisted on building a solid foundation and stayed at the Skin Tempering First Layer for over a year."
Before the discussion died down, Chen Kong called out, "Zhang Yan, what are you waiting for? Where's your fighter?"
"Song Que hasn't reached the second layer yet?"
Zhang Yan glared at Chen Kong and shouted the question.
Chen Kong smiled. "One fight will tell you, won't it? We agreed on the rules beforehand, Brother Zhang. You're not going back on your word, are you?"
Zhang Yan groaned inwardly. With a foundation like Song Que's, he was beyond the reach of an ordinary fighter at the Skin Tempering First Layer.
But it was too late to change anything. Zhang Yan had already chosen a disciple named Ding Yuan.
With Song Que on the other side, Ding Yuan had little chance of winning. Still, they could only try to treat a dead horse as though it might yet live.
Zhang Yan was about to speak when Ding Yuan stepped out from the crowd and cupped his fists. "Senior Brother Zhang, please hear me out. Song Que's reputation is too great. I fear I'm no match for him.
"This fight decides who gets the medicinal herbs. Losing a bout would be one thing, but I can't bear responsibility for losing the herbs. Please understand, Brother Zhang."
Zhang Yan stood stunned. He had never imagined Ding Yuan would lack even the courage to fight. Now they were in trouble.
A defeat would bring heavy losses.
But if they could not even find someone willing to fight, Celebration Hall's reputation would be dragged through the mud. How could he face his master afterward?
Zhang Yan's eyes turned cold. Ding Yuan hurried back into the crowd.
Zhang Yan swept his gaze across the others, and they all looked away.
Deng Qing stared at his nose, then fixed his mind inward. I wouldn't go either. There's nothing to gain from winning, and losing could leave me injured. I might even take the blame. No matter how I count it, it's a losing bargain.
As he weighed it up, Fan Sheng came over and said quietly, "Junior Brother Deng, putting caution first is all well and good. But when it's time to take a chance, you have to take it.
"I've thought a lot about what happened at North Warehouse.
"Even injured, that fellow wasn't someone an ordinary fighter at the Skin Tempering First Layer could have taken down."
At that, Fan Sheng drew Deng Qing aside and lowered his voice. "It's thanks to you that I'm wearing this black robe today. Of course I want you to stay at Celebration Hall. Your chance is here. Don't let it slip away."
Deng Qing replied quietly, "Song Que's reputation is too great, and I don't know what he's capable of. If I rush into a fight and damage my foundation, it won't be worth it."
Fan Sheng nodded. "You have a point. But this isn't a private duel. You'd be fighting for Celebration Hall, and the Hall will back you up."
Deng Qing's thoughts raced. "If I have that assurance, I'm willing to fight. But it would be best if Senior Brother Zhang made the Hall's promise publicly."
It was not that Deng Qing thought Song Que unbeatable. He had weighed the risks against the rewards and found the bargain wanting.
If Celebration Hall was willing to cover the risk, he could take a chance.
For one thing, he needed supplementary herbs to break through.
For another, he wanted to see just how powerful his Tiger-Subduing Fist had become now that his mastery exceeded seventy percent.
Fan Sheng patted Deng Qing on the shoulder. "Wait here."
With that, he went back to Zhang Yan and spoke a few words in a low voice.
Zhang Yan listened, then glanced at Deng Qing.
At this point, he had no other choice. Besides, Fan Sheng had always been prudent. He was unlikely to suggest anything foolish.
Having made up his mind, he drew a deep breath and said, "Whoever fights today will be fighting for Celebration Hall's honor.
"If you win, you'll earn great merit.
"You'll receive one Medicinal Bath, with all supplementary materials provided free, plus ten taels of silver.
"If you're injured, the Hall will pay for your treatment.
"If you lose, you won't be held responsible."
At his words, Celebration Hall's disciples at the Skin Tempering First Layer stirred.
Eyes that had looked away lifted once more.
Fan Sheng frowned slightly. He had not expected Zhang Yan's offer to stir everyone else's greed as well. He gave Deng Qing an apologetic look.
Deng Qing remained where he was, steady as Mount Tai.
"Senior Brother Zhang, serving our sect is my duty. I'm willing to fight."
Ding Yuan strode forward and made his declaration with gusto, as if he were a different man from the cringing coward who had refused to fight moments ago.
Zhang Yan gave him a cold glance. Ding Yuan's face reddened, and he dared say no more.
Zhang Yan raised a hand and pointed at Deng Qing. "You!"
In an instant, every eye turned toward Deng Qing.
Someone could not help laughing softly. "They're sending out the Offal Martial Saint?"
The moment the words left his mouth, the man clapped a hand over it.
Wang Wei turned at once and glared at him. "Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about."
The man flushed and dared not answer back.
But the Golden Saber Sect had already heard.
At the words "Offal Martial Saint," Song Que gave Deng Qing an amused once-over and sneered. "Offal Martial Saint?
"Don't tell me you're the fellow who broke through by eating Pig Offal?
"I hear Pig Offal prices have risen in Everjoy County lately. Butchers from your county have even been coming to ours to buy it.
"I've heard the name Offal Martial Saint too. So you're the one."
The Golden Saber Sect's ranks burst into laughter.
"Celebration Hall must be out of people if they're sending out someone who eats Pig Offal."
"Junior Brother Song, be careful. Don't let the stink of offal on him knock you out."
The Golden Saber Sect's laughter grew louder and more brazen. Faces darkened throughout Celebration Hall's ranks.
Zhang Yan began to regret his choice. Had he known this would happen, he would not have sent Deng Qing out.
Deng Qing acted as though he had heard nothing. He walked openly into the field and cupped his fists. "Celebration Hall, Deng Qing."
Seeing Deng Qing remain unmoved by the taunts, Song Que lost interest in them. He cupped his fists. "Golden Saber Sect, Song Que."
The moment Song Que finished speaking, his feet moved and he darted forward.
Light on his feet, he shifted one step to Deng Qing's side and struck at his shoulder with an open palm.
Deng Qing sank into his Tiger-Subduing Fist stance and brought his arm across to block. Palm met arm with a dull thud.
His palm strike thwarted, Song Que instantly turned his hand into a claw. His five fingers curled as he grabbed for Deng Qing's wrist.
Deng Qing dropped his arm and countered with Reaching Claw, catching Song Que's Eagle Claw in its path.
Song Que snorted and swept a leg at Deng Qing's lower body. Deng Qing sank his hips to evade it, then swept a hand toward Song Que's elbow to check him.
In little more than ten breaths, they exchanged dozens of moves. Song Que fought with effortless grace, every move a sight to behold.
Deng Qing, by contrast, was like a practical old farmer. He made no flashy moves, only measured responses.