First in the Competition Area
Lin Qing walked to the edge of the training ground and sat down, glancing down at his palm.
The cold Qi mark and the crimson-gold mark were both still glowing faintly, dimmer than usual, as though that last move had taken considerable strength.
He hadn't expected the explosive power of ice and fire repelling each other to be so formidable. Thanks to A Zhu's reminder, he had seen it; it seemed he still had plenty of fighting techniques to learn.
Ice and fire repelled each other, but together they could produce a tremendous burst of energy. Ordinary Martial Souls, however, could rarely possess the powers of both elements at once.
Lin Qing had tempered his body in the Ice and Fire Yin Yang Well and absorbed the essence of ice and fire, allowing him to wield both elements. His fighting strength was far beyond that of a Soul Elder of the same rank.
He knew he had won the match, but he couldn't use that final palm strike often. If he made the slightest error while channeling the power of ice and fire together, the first to give out wouldn't be his opponent, but himself. He still needed practice to control it with greater precision.
He lowered his hand and closed his eyes. Bamboo Breath slowly circulated once through his body, repairing the strain from just now.
Having taken first place in this competition area, he had earned the right to receive a token for entry into Spirit Hall and become its vassal.
Besides the token, Spirit Hall had also rewarded him with 100 Gold Soul Coins.
To become a true God King on the Douluo Continent, where fortune gathered around Tang San alone, he could only contend for the opportunities and resources of this world.
And now he was one step closer to that goal.
After the contest ended, the crowd at the training ground dispersed quickly. The bishop closed the roster and left.
A few deacons also began packing up, putting the bronze bell into a cloth bag. The sound of footsteps on the flagstones gradually grew sparse.
Lin Qing stood at the edge of the ground without leaving immediately.
Bamboo Breath made one last circuit through his body, confirming that he had no hidden injuries.
The two ice and fire crystals still lay quietly deep within the bamboo, a little heavier than before, as though they had just been through a round of forging.
When he returned to his lodging, the door was ajar, just as it had been when he left.
His iron tag had now been exchanged for a Heavy Silver token bearing the emblem of Spirit Hall, a symbol of his identity within Spirit Hall.
Footsteps sounded outside, unhurried, and stopped at the door.
Someone raised a hand and knocked twice on the door, the rhythm even and the force just right, as though he had calculated beforehand exactly when to make a sound.
"First in the competition area. Not bad."
Cheng Du's voice came from outside, carrying a slight wind-roughened rasp through the door.
Lin Qing stood and pulled the door open. Cheng Du didn't come in, merely leaning against the doorframe. He looked as though he had strolled over from the training ground, and the grass stem in his hand already bore his teeth marks.
"The bishop told me to pass on a message. Someone will take you to the main competition area first thing tomorrow morning." He paused. "It won't be me this time."
"Who is it?"
"I don't know. Anyway, it's not someone at my level." Cheng Du straightened up, turned, and walked a couple of steps away. Then he stopped and looked back, as though something had just come to him: "The main competition area is tougher than this place. Don't expect anyone there to spare your face."
Lin Qing stood in the doorway, watching Cheng Du walk farther down the alley until he disappeared around the corner. He stepped back inside and pulled the door shut. The Heavy Silver token lay on the table, Spirit Hall's emblem gleaming softly silver in the candlelight, the patterns along its edges clear and intricate. He picked it up and hefted it. It was much heavier than the iron tag, like a piece of condensed iron.
He sat back down on the edge of the bed, turned the token once between his fingers, then put it down and began taking stock of what he already had: three great bloodline Soul Skills, Bamboo Breath, Bamboo Heart, and Bamboo Soul;
three Soul Skills: Lone Bamboo Pole Vault, Bamboo Shadow Startling Swan, and Bamboo Sea Emergence. He also had the added powers of two elements within his body.
Each had its use, but none had reached its peak. Bamboo Sea Emergence could only spread a hundred zhang, the pole vault wasn't nimble enough at changing direction in midair, and his control over cold Qi and heat was still at the stage of "usable" rather than "mastered."
He closed his hand, and the twin marks of ice and fire pulsed silently deep in his palm.
The energy released when ice and fire repelled each other was indeed far greater than when either was used alone, but the precision required was too high. The slightest deviation, and the backlash would strike his meridians first.
He closed his eyes and let Bamboo Breath slowly circulate once through his body, checking the state of his meridians. There were no obvious hidden injuries.
He opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on his shadow on the wall, studying it for a moment, as though trying to find some flaw in that dark shape.
Early the next morning, Lin Qing woke before day had fully broken. He put on his outer robe, tucked the Heavy Silver token into his robes, and pushed the door open.
The alley was quiet. A thin layer of dew coated the flagstones, and his passage left a trail of faint footprints.
A middle-aged man stood at the courtyard gate, dressed in a dark gray short robe, with no weapon at his waist and his hands hanging at his sides. He neither leaned against the wall nor paced. When he saw Lin Qing come out, he said little, merely tilting his head. "Follow me."
Lin Qing followed him into a carriage.
After traveling for over an hour, he stopped atop a high slope and raised a hand to point into the distance. "The main competition area is over there."
Lin Qing looked in the direction he pointed. A low gray outline lay at the far end of the wasteland, like a giant beast crouching on the ground, its back gleaming darkly in the morning light.
The middle-aged man didn't linger. He turned and headed back the way they had come, walking several steps before tossing out a final remark. "Go on by yourself. Just give them your name when you get there."
No reminders, no further instructions. His pace remained unhurried, just as it had been when he came.
Lin Qing stood on the high slope and watched for a while, then followed the road downhill.
People sat in front of some doors, while others were shut tight. Now and then, someone came out of a house, glanced at him, and looked away again.
He came to an iron gate taller than the one in Spirit City's western district. A line of characters was carved into the stone pillars on either side: "Spirit Hall Main Competition Area." The lettering gleamed like old bronze in the afternoon sunlight.
The gate stood half open, with light and voices coming from within. Lin Qing pushed it open and walked into a large courtyard paved with bluestone flagstones and surrounded by two- and three-story stone buildings.
More than a dozen people were already standing in the courtyard. Some were talking, some leaned against the walls with their eyes closed, resting, and others were loosening their wrists and ankles.
Their presences varied, but they had one thing in common: each carried a similarly substantial steadiness, as though they had just undergone the same tempering.
A young man in a gray robe came up to him, holding a wooden plaque. "Your name."
"Lin Qing."
The gray-robed man looked down and flipped through a couple of pages in a register. He found the corresponding name, marked it with a check, and handed him the wooden plaque. "West district, number twenty-four. Assemble at the drill ground tomorrow morning."
Lin Qing took the bronze plaque. Its surface was smooth and clean, bearing only a number. He went to the northwest corner, found room twenty-four, and pushed the door open.
The room contained a bed, a table, and a chair. A wooden rack stood in the corner, with a folded thin blanket resting on it. The window faced south, affording a view of the courtyard. He put the wooden plaque on the table and sat down.
Bamboo Breath circulated once through his body. His meridians were unobstructed, ensuring he was in his best condition.
[End of chapter nineteen]