Time flew by, and another half month passed.
Inside the inn,
Zhang Qingyuan and Zhang Junbao sat cross-legged on the bed.
They opened their eyes at the same time, a scorching light bursting from their gazes.
Their True Qi had improved again!
Geniuses could sometimes be that absurd-even more absurd than using cheats.
No pills, no heavenly treasures, just pure cultivation, and their True Qi seemed to multiply on its own.
"The day has come," Zhang Junbao said with a sigh as he got out of bed.
Zhang Qingyuan stretched. "You're going into labor?"
Zhang Junbao looked back with a smile. "You really never forget to crack a joke, no matter when it is."
"Just easing the tension before battle. This is our dazzling debut, after all. We can't embarrass ourselves, can we?"
"You're right, Brother Yuan." Zhang Junbao gave him a thumbs-up. He was nowhere near as relaxed as Zhang Qingyuan.
They washed their faces at the inn, changed their clothes, and made themselves neat and presentable from head to toe.
Neither wore Daoist robes today; in a rare change, they had put on short martial outfits.
When they stepped out of the inn, both sides of the street were packed with people.
They curiously studied the two youths whose reputations had recently soared through the martial world.
Eighteen years old,
And facing the Wang Family in a decisive battle.
Watching a spectacle was a trait of every son and daughter of Huaxia. No matter which world's Huaxia they were in, they had to eat melon.
The two strode toward the city gates, their steps steady, their chests out and heads held high.
The melon-eating spectators on either side of the street followed behind them, whispering among themselves.
"Dad, those two are so handsome."
"What good is handsome? Who knows whether they'll be alive after today?"
"Hero Feng, do you think they'll survive today?"
"Hard to say."
"Wanyou Trading Company is offering odds of one to one point five on whether they survive. Hey, Brother Huang, how much did you bet?"
"How did they train their martial arts, anyway? I even went to look around Sanhe Town, but I couldn't find a single clue."
Listening to the discussions behind them, Zhang Qingyuan and Zhang Junbao exchanged a glance, their minds filled with motherfuckers.
On an open stretch of land five li outside the city, all the factions were already in position.
Some had come for the spectacle, others to build connections.
After exchanging greetings, the various factions found places to stand and waited eagerly.
The two masters from Shaolin Temple occupied center stage with the disciples from their respective halls. To their left stood several elders of the Beggar Clan Central Province Branch, along with over a dozen Beggar Clan disciples.
To their right was Zhong Qishan, an elder from the Huashan Sect's Fifth Peak. He had brought only two personal disciples.
Heaven Gate had sent its sect master. Although Heaven Gate remained one of the martial world's top factions, it had declined considerably in his generation. The entire sect now rested on his shoulders alone, with not a single outstanding disciple under him.
The Joyous Union Sect had brought a crowd of handsome men and beautiful women. They stood in a corner where no one paid them any attention, led by their two sect masters, known in the martial world as Big Brother and Big Sister. They were a married couple.
They had come purely to try their luck at drawing the two young heroes into their sect.
Although the Joyous Union Sect did not count as an evil cult, the orthodox sects did not accept it among their ranks either. It was the sort of relationship where neither side disliked the other.
The Joyous Union Sect had done nothing particularly wicked, but their cultivation methods were simply... simply too embarrassing to speak of.
Great heroes had their dignity to preserve, so the Joyous Union Sect occupied an awkward position in the martial world.
They also knew how talented Zhang Qingyuan and his brother were, so they wanted to make an effort to recruit them.
As long as the two brothers joined, they could take their pick of every woman in the Joyous Union Sect-even Big Sister, if they wanted.
Although the orthodox disciples maintained upright appearances and kept well away from the Joyous Union Sect, their eyes still drifted that way involuntarily.
Good looks, scant clothing.
Some of the young men even bent at the waist.
There were also factions such as Longevity Mountain Manor and the Profound Pointing Gate. Like the Joyous Union Sect, they wanted to try recruiting the pair.
Provided they did not return to Shaolin.
The Wang Family stood on one side of the clearing. Their patriarch, Old Wang, sat in a grand armchair, with a force of some two hundred people behind him.
Over the past several days, to get his guards to fight with everything they had, he had spared no expense buying all sorts of heavenly treasures to nourish them. He had also promised a reward of a thousand taels of silver to whoever killed Junbao and his companion.
The Supreme Yang rose before their eyes, its gentle light falling across the land.
A refreshing breeze swept past.
By any measure, it was fine weather for an outing, yet it was being used for a duel.
In the distance, a martial artist raced toward them using lightness skills, shouting as he ran, "They've set out! They've already set out!"
"They're coming!"
The Wang Family's men roused themselves and checked their weapons, while every spectator waited expectantly.
"Senior brother, do you think those two can win?" Juekong asked worriedly, looking toward the Wang Family's force.
"They certainly can!" Monk Yankong smiled, as kindly as ever.
Over by Mount Hua, Zhong Qishan heard Juekong and the others talking and smiled without a word.
His two disciples asked quietly, "Master, can those two really win?"
With his hands behind his back, Zhong Qishan cast a profound look at Yankong and said, "Of course."
"They're really that formidable?" the two disciples asked in surprise.
"Train harder when we get back. They've already made such a name for themselves at eighteen. What about you?"
The two disciples lowered their heads. "We are ashamed."
"At the next Nine Peaks Competition, our Fifth Peak cannot come dead last again."
Over at the Joyous Union Sect, the two sect masters leaned together, Qin Shuangjiang's head resting on her husband's shoulder.
She sighed. "Ah, the Wang Family is going to be wiped out this time."
The disciples behind them were puzzled. "Big Brother, why does everyone think those two Daoists will win? They haven't seen their abilities, so why jump to conclusions?"
Sect Master Luo Binghe held his wife's soft hand. His fair, clean-featured face looked as though an immortal had painstakingly sculpted it. He said, "Because Shaolin says they can win, they will win."
"Why?"
"Just watch." Luo Binghe lifted his wife's chin and kissed her.
All the experts shared an unspoken understanding. They knew that if Shaolin said the two would win, then their victory was assured.
Because even if Zhang Junbao and his companion could not beat their opponents, Shaolin was still there.
They were even eager for Zhang Junbao to lose. In fact, they did not believe the pair would win.
As soon as they could no longer hold out, Shaolin Temple would certainly lend a hand.
Some might ask, did that not violate the rules of the martial world?
Rules-didn't they simply mean whoever had the bigger fist was right?
Talk rules with Shaolin?
It was not that Shaolin Temple was particularly overbearing. All major sects treated minor sects this way.
Perhaps some people would follow the rules, but after so many years of publicizing legitimate self-defense, how many people who actually fought back were truly ruled to have acted in self-defense?
About an hour later, two figures appeared in the distance.
Both carried swords, their neat high ponytails revealing handsome faces.
Behind them came a large crowd of martial artists from minor sects and those with no sect affiliation at all.
Once they reached the clearing, Zhang Qingyuan began looking around. Although he had gained a general understanding of the factions in the martial world, he still did not know exactly who belonged to which sect, whose martial arts were stronger or weaker, or the specific details.
That must be the Beggar Clan?
That's Mount Hua. Only three people came from Mount Hua?
That man should be Chu Tianxing, the Heaven Gate master. He's greeting me.
Zhang Qingyuan nodded back at him.
Shaolin Temple actually sent this many people?
That kindly-looking man must be Yankong. Those eighteen warrior monks behind him must be the Shaolin Temple Eighteen Arhats.
Rumor had it that each of the Shaolin Eighteen Arhats was a first-rate expert in the martial world in his own right.
When all eighteen joined together in the Eighteen Arhats Formation, even grandmaster elders and experts dared not take them head-on.
Besides the Eighteen Arhats, Shaolin Temple also had the Five Hundred Arhats. Once those five hundred formed the Arhat Grand Formation, even a great grandmaster would have to kneel.
This world had no divisions of cultivation realms. Labels such as first-rate expert and grandmaster were merely classifications martial artists had distilled from experience.
First-rate experts were people like Zhang Qingyuan, who wielded some influence but whose martial arts were not yet at the very top.
Beyond-first-rate experts were the renowned personal disciples, elders, and the like within the top sects.
As for grandmasters, they had signature battles that had established their reputations in the martial world, martial arts superior to beyond-first-rate experts, and tremendous fame.
Great grandmasters were the leaders of top sects, or immortal-like figures such as sword gods and sword saints.
These ranks were assigned by people, after all, and the distinctions were not that clear. Sometimes reputation and rank were not the same thing as actual strength.
As a supreme sage surnamed Guo from Zhang Qingyuan's previous life had once said, "I call you an artist, you call me a first-class actor, and we'll leave it at that."
Did the artist have any signature works?
This world was the same. The Heaven Gate master, for instance, had earned his grandmaster reputation through fighting.
But the leader of the Vast Sea Sect, one of the Six Great Sects, had not appeared for over a decade and was still respectfully addressed as a great grandmaster. Was that because of his strength?
Heh, that was because of the Vast Sea Sect's standing in the martial world!
Who knew what he was actually like?
Zhang Qingyuan was still surveying the crowd when his gaze reached the Joyous Union Sect, and he could not help sucking in a breath of cold air.
"Hiss..."
Daring to bare their thighs in this day and age, and even kiss in front of so many people-the Joyous Union Sect really lived up to its reputation!
Luo Binghe and Qin Shuangjiang parted their lips, then turned and smiled at Zhang Qingyuan.
Holy shit, someone actually has looks that can utterly crush mine?
Although Zhang Qingyuan was very confident in his looks after transmigrating, he also knew he could not possibly be the most handsome man alive. There were bound to be plenty of men more handsome than him.
But he had never imagined that this world would have someone whose looks could utterly crush Daniel Wu, Edison Chen, Fair Louis Koo, and Vincent Chiao.
Unlike Zhang Qingyuan, Zhang Junbao looked toward Shaolin Temple as soon as he arrived.
He and Juekong met each other's eyes and held the gaze for a long time.
In the end, Old Wang was the first to break the silence.
"Zhang Junbao!"
Both turned to look at Old Wang.
"You killed my son and my guards. Today, I..."
"Ahem!"
Before he could finish, Zhang Qingyuan coughed, cutting him off.
He looked at Old Wang,
As though saying, Shut up. I'm about to put on a show.