Long Heng

When Chu Xisheng and his two companions arrived at the South Street Temple Fair, they found a sea of people.

This was undoubtedly the liveliest, most prosperous spot in all of Ancient Market Town.

More than twenty arenas lined both sides of a stone street stretching out from the entrance to the Temple of the God of Wealth.

Large crowds gathered beneath every arena, with vendors weaving among them, hawking fruit and roasted nuts and seeds.

"The arena competitions here are second only to those in the State City in scale."

Walking ahead, Lu Luanli explained to the two of them, "Anyone who can set up an arena here is no ordinary person. They're called Arena Masters. They either have powerful backing, command extensive forces, or possess formidable martial prowess themselves.

"Right now, the whole South Street Temple Fair has three Arena Masters, each occupying several arenas. They make their money taking bets, raking in gold by the bushel every day-"

Chu Xisheng listened while looking around.

He noticed that these arenas were divided into tiers.

There were four tiers in all: ninth-rank lower, ninth-rank upper, eighth-rank lower, and eighth-rank upper.

"For ordinary ninth-rank lower matches, a win usually pays two taels of demon silver, about what you'd earn escorting a shipment for a day. The loser gets nothing, not even money for medicine if they're injured.

"The Life-and-Death Arena pays much more. A win earns you not only twenty taels, but also a tenth of all the money wagered on the match. If you lose, they cover your medical expenses or your cremation and burial. But there's no referee up there, and life or death is of no concern-"

Lu Luanli stopped there, because Chu Xisheng had already started toward an arena on the left.

She blinked. Was this fellow really planning to fight?

Reaching the foot of the arena, Chu Xisheng went straight into a pavilion beside it and found a clerk inside to register.

Before stepping into the arena, he had to sign a life-and-death waiver agreeing that neither side would be held accountable for death or injury.

Even ordinary matches required one. Although a referee stood ready to intervene at any moment to safeguard both fighters' lives, accidents were sometimes unavoidable.

Next came a test of his true essence strength.

Those with ninth-rank upper cultivation could forget about stirring up storms in a ninth-rank lower arena. By the same token, eighth-rank lower Martial Cultivators could forget about throwing their weight around in ninth-rank upper arenas.

To Chu Xisheng, this was much like the featherweight, lightweight, and heavyweight divisions of modern boxing.

After that, Chu Xisheng waited roughly another quarter of an hour before he was assigned a match.

To his disappointment, neither opponent in his first two consecutive matches amounted to much.

The moment Chu Xisheng drew his saber, his opponent had already lost.

He used no movement methods or techniques, and did not even draw his saber at full speed.

Chu Xisheng understood that even a lion used its full strength to catch a rabbit, but he wanted more to hone his combat skills through these low-intensity bouts.

Yet even at half his drawing speed, his opponents still could not withstand him.

After those two matches, a middle-aged man dressed as a household guard approached.

His face dark, he cupped his fist toward Chu Xisheng. "Young brother, your saber skills are exceptional. There's no opponent for you here anymore. Please move up an arena, or go to the Life-and-Death Arena! You're a mighty dragon. Why toy with fish and shrimp in these shallows?"

"Moving up an arena" meant having Chu Xisheng fight in a ninth-rank upper arena.

The spectators below were all seasoned hands. One look at Chu Xisheng's saber draw had told them his level.

Almost everyone had bet on Chu Xisheng to win the previous match, costing the organizers more than thirty taels.

His combat strength clearly exceeded the ninth-rank lower tier.

Only ninth-rank upper experts could keep Chu Xisheng in check.

Or there was the Life-and-Death Arena, where quite a few experts possessed combat strength beyond their cultivation.

Chu Xisheng also knew these "Arena Masters" were here to make money, and he had been thinking the same thing himself.

The main issue was that he earned little, gained no training benefit, and had not acquired even a scrap of renown.

Readily accepting the suggestion, Chu Xisheng cupped his hands in reply. "You flatter me, sir. I'm willing to move up!"

The moment Chu Xisheng changed arenas, he drew the interest of the surrounding crowd.

Ninth-rank upper Martial Cultivators were common in this arena, but someone coming to fight here with ninth-rank lower true essence cultivation was a sight one might not see even once in three to five days.

Chu Xisheng's first opponent was a burly man wearing brass knuckles.

The man had a massive frame, his muscles as solid as granite.

Chu Xisheng did not use Empty Cave Brings Wind to defeat him. He used footwork to open up some distance and probed cautiously. Once he had gauged his opponent's level, he relaxed and exchanged moves with him one by one.

Chu Yunyun often sparred with him too, but her level was so high that the entire session was like playing with a child.

Her martial attainments were incomparably profound; she could not bring her level down.

As a result, sparring with her was actually less effective than fighting the man before him.

After they exchanged a hundred and thirty moves, Chu Xisheng felt some discomfort in his lungs and grew slightly short of breath, so he ended the fight with Wind and Thunder Together.

Because he had previously inscribed the Secret Move Totem, Chu Xisheng had put extra practice into this saber move.

Now, apart from Empty Cave Brings Wind, Wind and Thunder Together was the move he had mastered best among the eighteen moves of the Wind-Chasing Blade.

Chu Xisheng still did not use his full strength. With only seventy percent of his saber speed, he brought the tip against the man's throat.

An uproar erupted beneath the arena.

"Excellent! What a beautiful strike!"

"That boy looks sickly, but his saber skills are incredible."

"Fuck your ancestors!"

"Useless trash! You can't even beat a ninth-rank lower!"

Some spectators rejoiced in excitement, while others cursed furiously, flinging their betting slips all over the street.

Chu Xisheng was happy too, and a little firework burst before his eyes.

His Martial Dao Points rose from 34 to 35.

On top of that, winning a ninth-rank upper match earned him five taels, much easier money than escorting shipments.

This truly brought both money and fame.

But just as Chu Xisheng was looking forward to his next match, his expression shifted slightly, and he looked toward the left side of the arena.

Beyond the restless crowd stood more than thirty burly men.

Half of them wore heavy armor. Each rested a hand on his weapon as they stared at him with hostile expressions.

Their leader wore a white scholar's robe with a loose body and broad sleeves. He had a high nose, deep-set eyes, and loose, disheveled hair, with a cold, proud, and unrestrained bearing.

This should be Long Heng, the eldest young master of the Inner City's Long Household.

Chu Xisheng recognized him because he had spotted Long Sheng beside him. The two bore a striking resemblance.

The Second Young Master of the Long Household was also looking at him, mockery and hatred in his eyes.

Chu Xisheng also saw Chu Yunyun clench both fists amid the crowd. Her aura was icy, and she was already poised to act at any moment.

Lu Luanli, however, was nowhere to be seen.

But out of the corner of his eye, Chu Xisheng spotted a Masked Heroine hurrying out of a nearby alley.

Heroine Lu had not even had time to change the ornaments in her hair. They were rather conspicuous.

His mind settling somewhat, Chu Xisheng watched the Long brothers beneath the arena without a word.

He was actually quite surprised.

Chu Xisheng had only dared linger here because he had judged Ancient Market Town to be safer than Zhengyang Martial Academy.

He had never expected the Long brothers to dare cross the Divine Splendor River at a time like this!

Did they think the Iron Banner Gang, which ruled the Divine Splendor River unchecked, was merely for show?

By now, the spectators beneath the arena had also noticed something amiss and stepped aside.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Long Heng strolled over at a leisurely pace and climbed the steps one by one.

His men spread out in every direction, surrounding the arena.

Once Long Heng stepped onto the arena, he thrust the sword in his hand into the floor before him. "Recognize this sword? Tell me, who killed my Senior Brother Du? Give me his name, or draw his face, and I can let you suffer a little less when you die."

Chu Xisheng glanced at the sword and recognized it as the treasured sword he had sold at the Divine Weapon Hall.

He paid it no mind, keeping his hand on his saber as he breathed deeply.

Today, his only option was to fight for his life.

With Lu Luanli providing cover, he would withdraw from Ancient Market Town while avoiding exposing Chu Yunyun as much as possible.

But just as Long Heng finished speaking, a teacup came flying from afar, hurtling straight at him.

Without so much as blinking, Long Heng casually flicked his sleeve and shattered the teacup.

At that moment, a young gentleman in a brocade robe, holding a folding fan, also emerged from the crowd with a large group of burly men.

The young gentleman was around twenty, his figure like a jade tree, his long brows like willow leaves. His features were delicate and refined, while his expression was languid.

"Long Heng, who gave you such nerve? You dare come to the South Street Temple Fair to stir up trouble?"