And now, an absurdly young boy had stepped up, drawn his sword, and clashed with him two or three times. Then the Fifth Growth fighter's sword had clattered to the ground, and the match was decided.
Many people had not even caught up-what happened? Was this some courtesy toward a junior? What about that slash of yours that had just split the stone? What about those sword flashes, swift and thick as snowflakes?
Why did you seem like a wooden dummy, letting him hit you without making a move?
While the scholars remained bewildered, the Martial Field answered with its most unified outburst of cries and commotion since the event began. Then all nine rows of hanging tassels descended, enclosing the boy.
This truly was a case of outsiders watching the spectacle while insiders watched the workings. Many people began asking about the unfamiliar young face.
"My friend, Pei Ye of Fenghuai!" Zhang Dingyun spread his arms and shouted. "A young hero, a pearl and jade of the Sword Dao, sincere, resolute, and courageous! A contender in the Martial Competition five days from now. My literary friends, do give him your support!"
Only after raising his arms and shouting did Zhang Dingyun begin dealing with his own astonishment-wasn't Pei Ye only at Third Growth?
"...I need to get a folding fan ready for him to sign." The chubby boy gazed at the boy in the arena and muttered to himself, not forgetting to lower his head and glare at Fang Jidao beside him. "Being his friend gives me far more standing than being yours!"
In the arena, another Fifth Growth fighter from the Seven Flood Dragons soon stepped forward. This was their last Fifth Growth fighter. This time, the scholars leaned over the railing and watched without blinking.
This new