Chapter 100 — Three Places
CHAPTER 100
Three Places
“Move your elbow!” Gao Min, a tall youth, shouted.
“Move your face!” Liu Tong, his companion, shouted back.
Shi Feng waited until both finished arguing, then stepped around them. The new qualification notice hung beneath the royal seal at the capital square. A crowd of young cultivators pressed close enough to make reading it difficult.
Foundation Establishment remained the minimum realm. The eligible birth years were listed beside the registration dates. Three representatives would leave Great Liang for the regional Great Kingdom Tournament.
Three places.
Shi Feng read the ranked list attached below. Crown Prince Sima Yu stood first, late Foundation Establishment. Ling Qingzhu stood second. Her exact cultivation wasn’t listed. People called her strong and unfathomable; few could say more. Han Zong, a spear user at mid Foundation Establishment, stood third.
The list continued through ten names. Gao Zhen held the tenth place at early Foundation Establishment.
These were the standing candidates. Challenges during the qualification period would decide who kept the places. Shi Feng looked at his wife's name for a moment longer.
She never told him her actual cultivation. The notice named her position and kept the rest private, while she still asked whether his ordinary sword could survive a tree.
He wasn't offended. She had her own secrets, and he carried more than a few. Still, he thought, I'll remember that the next time she pretends a branch is difficult.
Yu Cheng sat beside the registration table with a stack of fresh slips. Shi Feng recognized the clerk from the earlier notice. The man looked no happier now that more applicants wanted answers.
“Unranked candidates challenge tenth first,” Yu Cheng explained to a waiting youth. “Win, and you're on the standing list. Then you may challenge a higher place under the announced rules.”
“Must I fight ninth after tenth?” Gao Min asked.
“No,” Yu Cheng replied. “You can challenge third if you think you can win.”
Several people laughed. The youth flushed and stepped aside.
Shi Feng approached the table.
“Three representatives only?” Shi Feng asked.
“Three,” Yu Cheng replied. “Not ten, not everyone whose uncle knows a minister. Three.”
“And a third-ranked candidate can stop once the position is secure?” Shi Feng asked.
“If he keeps it until qualification closes,” Yu Cheng said. “Someone else can still challenge him.”
Shi Feng nodded. That was clear enough.
He didn't need Great Liang's championship to reach the regional arena. A qualifying place would bring him to the same road. Sima Yu's name above the list represented another matter entirely.
The prince ordered men to kill him. Shi Feng didn't forget those orders because a ranking notice used respectful titles.
He'd settle that grudge where the prince's household couldn't end a fight by shouting his rank. For now, he came to understand qualification, not attack a guarded royal carriage in a public square. Yu Cheng looked at his face more carefully and recognized him.
“You again,” Yu Cheng said.
“I can read twice,” Shi Feng replied.
The clerk glanced at his ordinary sword and shook his head. He didn't bother repeating the old speech about brawlers watching from the street.
“Registration opens in ten days,” Yu Cheng said. “Birth record first. Cultivation verified before a challenge proceeds, in the arena. Don't stand here arguing with me today.”
“I wasn't going to,” Shi Feng replied.
He left before the clerk found a reason to object to that too.
Two young cultivators were discussing Han Zong beside a tea stall. One held a short spear wrapped in expensive cloth. The other kept nodding as if he personally taught the third-ranked candidate.
“Seven people challenged him last season,” Gao Min said. “Not one forced him back three steps.”
“His spear art came from a sect visitor,” Liu Tong replied.
“His clan bought it,” Gao Min said. “Same thing.”
Shi Feng ordered tea and listened. Both men were at Bone Refinement, and their knowledge became less certain the longer they talked. Soon Han Zong's single spear art became three inherited arts and a secret method learned in a forbidden valley.
Shi Feng drank his tea and left before the valley grew a hidden dragon too. The actual ranking and realm mattered. Street boasting could stay at the stall.
Across the square, another notice listed the nearby Great Sects: Martial Palace, Hundred Flower Valley, and Artificer Hall. Their representatives would watch the regional tournament, not spend weeks testing every hopeful in Great Liang. A grey-bearded father pointed at the names while lecturing his son.
“Reach the regional arena first,” Chen Sheng said. “Then you can dream about a sect.”
“Artificer Hall takes fewer warriors,” Chen Lu complained.
“Then become one worth taking,” Chen Sheng replied.
Shi Feng paused at that. Xu Changhe carried a sword and enforced the sect's rules. His legacy wasn't a reason to pretend Shi Feng suddenly preferred crafting over fighting or alchemy. It was a connection to a place he intended to see.
He already chose that road for himself. First came qualification, then the surrounding kingdoms' strongest young cultivators. He wouldn't ask a dead elder's name to do the walking for him.
The father and son continued arguing. Shi Feng left the square with the notice folded beneath his sleeve and a much clearer idea of the next month. Three places sounded few to the crowd. He only needed one.
Ling Qingzhu found him reading the notice copy at home.
“You went to the square?” Ling Qingzhu asked.
“Yes,” Shi Feng replied.
Her eyes moved to the ranked list. She didn't look surprised by her own position.
“Second,” Shi Feng said, touching the paper.
“For now,” Ling Qingzhu replied.
“Should I bow before serving rice?” Shi Feng asked.
“You should serve it before it goes cold,” Ling Qingzhu said.
He laughed and put the notice away. She sat across from him, watching his expression more closely than she intended.
“Does it bother you?” Ling Qingzhu asked.
“What?” Shi Feng replied.
“My cultivation,” Ling Qingzhu said.
“No,” Shi Feng replied.
She relaxed, then noticed how quickly he answered.
“You could at least think first,” Ling Qingzhu said.
“Would you prefer I became bothered?” Shi Feng asked.
“No,” Ling Qingzhu said sharply.
“Then don't complain about a good answer,” Shi Feng replied.
Her mouth curved before she looked down at the bowl. He was relieved she didn't treat the notice as an excuse to lecture him. She was relieved he didn't become gloomy beside her realm.
Neither knew how incomplete the other's understanding remained.
After supper, Shi Feng took out his old birth record. The folded paper carried the proper clan mark and enough wear to prove it hadn't been made yesterday. His age fell within the published eligible years.
No obstacle there.
Ling Qingzhu saw the paper beside his notes and frowned.
“You're not registering to fight, are you?” Ling Qingzhu asked.
“Yes,” Shi Feng replied.
She stared at him. “Foundation Establishment is required,” Ling Qingzhu said.
“I read that,” Shi Feng replied.
“Shi Feng,” Ling Qingzhu said, suddenly serious, “this isn't a stall argument. Someone can really hurt you.”
He looked at her. Concern lay beneath the sharpness, and he liked that even if she understood very little of his strength.
“I won't register without being able to fight,” Shi Feng replied.
She studied his calm face. He didn't explain further, and she finally shook her head.
“Then don't make promises just because people laughed,” Ling Qingzhu said.
“I don't,” Shi Feng replied.
He folded the birth record carefully. In the ring, his refined artifact sword waited beside the medicine supplies.
Tenth first. Third afterward.
That was enough of a route. He checked the registration date once more and laid the paper beneath his work notes. Until then, he still had commissions to finish. Becoming a representative wouldn't pay Gao Yuan's rent before the balance was due, and the furnace owner wasn't likely to accept tournament ambitions as payment.