Chapter 139 — The Names Everyone Bet On

CHAPTER 139

The Names Everyone Bet On

The betting board outside the northern entrance put Yuan Kuang's name in the largest characters.

Great Qin's crown prince wore black armour with a red sash. His peak Foundation Establishment qi spread over his platform as he lowered a broad spear toward his opponent. Behind him, the Martial Palace seats had grown attentive.

The match lasted longer than Shi Feng's, mostly because Yuan Kuang enjoyed making the difference visible.

His first thrust shattered his opponent's guard. His second sent the man sliding backward with both heels scraping stone. The third stopped beside the throat.

The opponent surrendered before the point moved another finger's width.

Yuan Kuang turned toward the stands. The cheers rose exactly when he expected them to.

“Great Qin's finest!”

“Martial Palace has already chosen him!”

“Put another hundred stones on the prince!”

Shi Feng watched Yuan Kuang lower the spear. The man's control was sound, although the turn after his second thrust left an unnecessary opening. An ordinary opponent at the same stage might never reach it.

Gu Zhan would probably enjoy reaching it.

The one-eyed youth entered the next platform with his spear balanced across his shoulder. His robe was clean but patched at one elbow. He looked around the stands as though searching for someone to share a good meal.

An old man seated in the independent sect section was peeling a pear with a small knife.

“Master, this one uses a halberd,” Gu Zhan called.

“I can see,” Nie Wufeng replied.

“It's longer than my spear,” Gu Zhan said.

“Then stand closer,” Nie Wufeng replied.

The halberd user frowned. He was a late Foundation Establishment cultivator from Great Chen, with two successful kingdom tournaments behind him. Being discussed like a piece of inconvenient furniture hadn't improved his mood.

Zhou Ke gave the signal.

The halberd swept sideways with enough qi to make the platform edge hum. Gu Zhan moved directly into the sweep. His spear butt tapped the shaft, his shoulder turned, and the halberd's blade passed behind him.

The spear point stopped against the other man's breastplate.

Gu Zhan pushed.

Metal buckled with a blunt crack. The halberd user flew backward and hit the platform outside the boundary, sliding another yard before he stopped.

Gu Zhan lowered his spear and peered after him.

“Can you get up?” Gu Zhan asked.

The defeated man raised a shaking hand. Zhou Ke went over to check him, then announced the result.

Gu Zhan looked almost disappointed.

Nie Wufeng finished peeling his pear.

By midday, the betting hall's runner was climbing a ladder to add Lone Spear Peak beneath the favourites.

His brush dripped ink over the old odds. The crowd yelled competing suggestions until the manager, Yu Cao, ordered everyone away from the ladder.

“Yesterday you wouldn't give him a price!”

“Yesterday he hadn't put a spear through Great Chen's armour!”

“Lone Spear Peak has two people. Two!”

“Perhaps that's all they need!”

Shi Feng passed the board with Duan Yichen. He had bought a bowl of cold noodles from the stall beside it and was trying to eat before the afternoon matches began.

Duan Yichen studied the fresh odds.

“I should've bet before he fought,” Duan Yichen said.

“You'd have needed someone to take it,” Shi Feng replied.

“True,” Duan Yichen said. “Yu Cao told me to find the sect on a map first.”

Yu Cao heard his name and pretended to inspect a crack in the ladder.

Shi Feng finished the noodles. The betting didn't make Yuan Kuang stronger or Gu Zhan weaker. Still, it explained where the public's attention had been, and how quickly it could move.

His own name had gained a smaller line below the established favourites.

He didn't stop to read his price.

Ling Qingzhu's opponent used paired short blades. She approached carefully, clearly aware that nobody had measured the veiled woman's depth from a glance.

Ling Qingzhu drew her sword and waited.

The first blade came low. She stepped outside it without spreading her qi across the whole platform. Her sword touched the second blade near its guard and turned it across the wielder's body.

The woman recovered faster than Xie Wenyuan had. Ling Qingzhu gave her room to finish the turn, then placed the sword point against her sleeve.

A pale thread of force cut the cloth without touching skin.

The opponent stopped.

For three breaths, both women stood still. Then the paired blades lowered, and the woman surrendered.

The crowd applauded the clean result. Some called Ling Qingzhu strong; others complained that the short exchange told them too little. Neither group gained an answer from the white veil.

Shi Feng watched her put away the sword.

Her restraint was familiar, but familiarity didn't give him a precise measure of everything beneath it. He had reasons to think she held much more than she showed. Those reasons remained guesses.

Ling Qingzhu looked toward the waiting area. He gave a brief nod, acknowledging the victory, and returned his attention to the next match.

Ling Qingzhu rested her hand over the sword hilt for a moment before leaving.

Earlier, he'd spoken gently with Lu Qingxue when she returned a cloth, yet for her own victory he had spared only a silent nod. Ling Qingzhu caught herself comparing the two and felt a sharp sting beneath her ribs.

She wanted her victory to earn something different from him because she was his wife. But the difference she missed had never been something a title could demand.

She lowered her hand and left the passage without asking him for another word.

Sima Yu won late in the afternoon. His royal palm technique drove his opponent to the boundary in six exchanges. The Crown Prince's smile returned when the referee declared the result.

He reached the exit first and found an attendant blocking the passage while an injured candidate was carried through.

“Make room,” Sima Yu said. “I am Great Liang's crown prince.”

The attendant, Zhou Ke, looked at the stretcher and didn't move.

“Then you should understand waiting for the wounded,” Zhou Ke replied.

Two candidates nearby laughed. Sima Yu's smile froze.

He could force a servant to kneel in the capital. Here, a single arena official could make him stand beside a wall while strangers carried a bleeding man past his gold-trimmed sleeve.

Shi Feng saw the exchange from the water table. He didn't add a word. Sima Yu had heard the laughter well enough.

Once the passage cleared, the prince left with measured steps. His servants hurried after him outside the candidates' gate.

Duan Yichen lifted his cup toward Shi Feng.

“Your kingdom seems lively,” Duan Yichen said.

“It gets tiring,” Shi Feng replied.

Across the arena, Nie Wufeng had fallen asleep with the pear core balanced on his knee. Gu Zhan stood behind him, quietly practising the same close step he had used against the halberd.

Shi Feng watched that step twice.

Of everything he'd seen that day, it was the thing most worth remembering.