Chapter 45
Chen Ren kept himself busy, splitting his time between training, learning new techniques, and working on the food he planned to sell during the tournament. Similarly, the city was too lively with activity. Merchants, cultivators, and spectators were eager for the upcoming grand event. He had already secured permission to set up a temporary noodle stall outside the arena, but he wanted to do more. He wanted to get his food inside the arena too.
The problem was noodles. They were best eaten fresh and hot, and he couldn't guarantee that in the chaos of the tournament.
So, he had turned his thoughts to other kinds of food—something portable, quick to eat, and still delicious, addictive even. And after days of thinking and experimenting, he came up with a few ideas. Now, he was working on one of them.
The kitchen of the Tang Clan compound was quiet except for the soft scrape of a knife against potato skins. Chen Ren sat on a low stool, peeling potatoes and tossing the smooth tubers into a nearby bowl of water. Beside him, Lihua, one of the maids, helped him. Her hands moved a little slower than his as she tried to keep up, but she worked with determination.
Chen Ren's thoughts wandered as he peeled, planning his next steps. His schedule was packed tight, and he started feeling the strain. With Xiulan managing the noodle stall, the extra work of preparing the new food items for the tournament fell on him. "I really need more help," he muttered under his breath.
Lihua looked up at him, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Did you say something, Young Master Chen?"
"Just talking to myself," he replied with a small smile, focusing back on his task.
Their eyes met briefly before Lihua quickly glanced away, her face turning redder as she returned to peeling. Chen Ren couldn't help but feel a little awkward.
He understood why she acted that way, and it wasn't his fault. Like with most of his problems, it was the fault of his predecessor who had been a hedonistic bastard with no self- control and a habit of saying sweet things to women without meaning them. Lihua had taken those words to heart, and now he was left to deal with the very awkward aftermath.
Still, her help was appreciated.
As the pile of peeled potatoes grew, he planned to dry these and then fry them into crisp, golden chips and season them with spices. If everything pans out as he expected, he'd have the perfect snack for the tournament—easy to carry, quick to eat and tasty even after sitting for a while.
The work was simple but time-consuming, and Chen Ren couldn't stop thinking about how much he needed to expand his team. Lihua's occasional glances and shy smiles were a distraction he didn't need, but he let it slide.
For now, he set his thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. He picked up a peeled potato, slicing it into thin, even strips. Lihua followed his lead, her knife moving with a bit more hesitation but improving with every slice. Once they had a decent pile of slices, they placed them into a large bowl of cold water. The water became cloudy from the starch, but it was all part of the process.
They worked in silence for a while. Finally, Lihua broke the quiet. "Young Master Chen Ren, what exactly are we making?"
Chen Ren glanced up from his work, meeting her wide-eyed gaze. "Chips," he said simply. "It's a dish I used to eat when I was a child. They're easy to make, and since potatoes are cheap, we can prepare a lot of them. I'm trying to make these for the tournament."
Lihua tilted her head, confused. "Chips? I've never heard of them. What do they taste like?"
"Crunchy," Chen Ren replied with a small smile. "And if we do this right, they'll be perfectly salty and addictive."
Lihua nodded, her curiosity still evident, but she didn't ask any more questions. Instead, they went back to work, slicing more potatoes and soaking the slices in the cold water. The pile of peeled potatoes steadily shrank, while the bowl of soaking slices grew.
Once the last batch of slices was submerged in the water, Chen Ren stood, stretching his stiff shoulders. It was time for the next step.
He moved over to the outdoor cooking area he had set up in the Tang Clan courtyard, the same spot where he had perfected his noodles. The large pot of oil was already heated, the surface shimmering with a faint haze from the fire beneath.
As he carefully lowered the first batch of potato slices into the hot oil, the area filled with the sharp sizzle of frying. Chen Ren watched the bubbling oil, his thoughts drifting for a moment.
This spot held so many memories—his first noodle experiments, the crowd of servants lining up for bowls of his food, and even Xiulan's very sceptical gaze when he first started this journey. From that small beginning, he had come a long way. He now had multiple businesses and had made significant progress in his cultivation. It was hard to believe how much had changed in such a short time.
But it still feels like I'm just at the starting line, Chen Ren couldn't help but think.
The golden potato slices floated to the surface, their edges curling slightly as they fried. Slowly, they began to crisp and brown, the rich aroma of fried potatoes filling the air.
Lihua watched the entire process with wide eyes, her knife forgotten in her hand. "So this is how they're made," she murmured in wonder, leaning slightly closer to get a better look.
Chen Ren nodded, using a slotted spoon to stir the slices gently. "This is just the first batch. Once they're done, we'll sprinkle some salt on them and let them cool. After that, you can taste them for yourself."
Lihua's eyes lit up with excitement, and Chen Ren chuckled softly at her enthusiasm. From there, the seconds flew quickly.
After a few minutes of frying, Chen Ren nodded toward the sizzling pot. "Alright, Lihua, take them out."
Lihua quickly stepped forward, using a slotted spoon to scoop up the golden chips. She placed them carefully on a plate lined with large leaves to drain the excess oil. The crisp slices glistened under the sunlight streaming into the courtyard.
Chen Ren crouched down to inspect them. The chips were a mix of light and golden brown, their edges slightly curled and their surfaces freckled with tiny bubbles from the frying. Then, he picked up one and held it in his hand, admiring the texture. "I think they're ready," he said after a moment. Then he glanced at Lihua, offering her a small smile. "Do you want to try one?"
Her eyes lit up as she nodded. "Yes, Young Master!"
Chen Ren handed her one of the chips before taking one for himself. As he bit into it, the loud crunch filled his ears, and he took a moment to savour the taste. The flavour was simple—just the natural starchiness of the potato, lightly enhanced by the frying and the salt. He couldn't help but think about the chips he used to eat back in his old life, mass-produced and coated with seasonings. These were nowhere near that level of flavor. But then again, those comparisons were unfair.
On the other hand, Lihua seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself. Her expression brightened as she munched, a satisfied hum escaping her lips. Once she finished, she instinctively reached out for another one but froze when she noticed Chen Ren watching her. Her hand hovered awkwardly mid-air, and she quickly pulled it back, her cheeks turning red. "S-Sorry, Young Master! I didn't mean to—"
Chen Ren chuckled lightly and waved her off. "Go ahead, you can eat more."
Her face lit up with gratitude. "Thank you!" she said, popping another chip into her mouth with an excited crunch. After finishing that one, she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. "These are so good! I've never eaten anything so crunchy before." She paused thoughtfully, then added, "Though, I think they might taste even better with a bit of salt."
Chen Ren nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'll sprinkle some on the final batch before serving them. That'll bring out the flavour more."
Lihua smiled at his response and glanced back at the plate of chips. "I believe these will sell even better than the noodles! But, Young Master, there's one thing I don't understand. Why did you ask Xiulan to bring so much milk two days ago? I don't see how milk is used for chips."
"It's not for the chips," he opened his mouth, about to explain that the milk wasn't for the chips, but the sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention. He turned around just as Tang Yuqiu entered the area where they were preparing the food.
Her eyes swept across the space, taking in the peeled onions and other scattered ingredients before landing on the plate of golden chips resting on the table.
"What are those?"
"Chips," Chen Ren replied, motioning toward the plate. "I'm making them to sell at the tournament. Do you want to try one?" he asked. The more opinions, the better.
Yuqiu nodded, and so did Lihua, her appetite still not quenched. Chen Ren offered each of them a chip, and they both bit into their pieces at the same time.
The courtyard was soon filled with the sound of satisfying crunches.
"These are so crunchy!" Yuqiu exclaimed, her eyes widening. "It's simple, but it's good."
Lihua, still nibbling on her third chip, chimed in, "I told the young master that they'd taste even better with a little salt. What do you think, Young Miss Yuqiu?"
Tang Yuqiu nodded thoughtfully. "Salt would definitely enhance the flavor. These could be really popular during the tournament."
As they enjoyed the chips, Chen Ren glanced at Yuqiu. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
She leaned against the wall, brushing a strand of hair from her damp forehead. "I heard you were working on something in the kitchen, so I came to check it out. Honestly, I've been cooped up in the perfume shop for days now, and I needed a break." She sighed, wiping her brow again. "Ah, it's so hot outside. We're at the end of summer, but it just doesn't want to leave. I've been sweating like crazy these days."
She looked up at the sky and Chen Ren followed her gaze. Only a few clouds dotted the sky and the heat of the sun bore down on them. Even if he was a cultivator with a body more resistant to elements, he still sweated. Not to mention about mortals who had it much worse.
Hence, he had also planned something to alleviate the heat.
Chen Ren smiled as he decided to test out the other item on the menu he was going to unveil at the tournament. Turning to Tang Yuqiu, he said, "I think I might have something that will help with the heat."
Yuqiu looked down at the chips in her hand, her brows furrowing. "You mean from these chips? They're crunchy, sure, but you're right. They're also hot, and they're making me sweat even more."
Chen Ren shook his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Not the chips. Come with me."
He grabbed a bowl and a spoon from the table, gesturing for them to follow him. Lihua, still curious, trailed behind alongside Yuqiu as they moved through the Tang Clan compound to another room.
When Chen Ren opened the door, a rush of icy air spilled out, making all three of them shiver. Yuqiu instinctively rubbed her arms. "Why is it so cold in here?" she asked, her voice almost trembling.
"I set up [Frost Arrays] in this room," Chen Ren explained. "With some help from Senior Qing, I modified them to keep the temperature extremely low—around minus 18 degrees celsius. It's the perfect temperature for storing what I'm about to show you."
Tang Yuqiu blinked, confused. "Celsius? What's that?"
"Just think of it as very cold," Chen Ren replied, laughing.
Yuqiu glanced at the frosty air swirling in the room. "If your grand solution to beat the heat is to sit in here, let me tell you—I'll freeze to death instead. It's going from one extreme to the other!"
Chen Ren shook his head again, stepping inside. "Not quite. Take a look."
Both women hesitated for a moment, then followed him in, curiosity outweighing their discomfort. The temperature dropped further as they entered the room, their breaths turning visible in the chilled air. Chen Ren walked over to a table in the corner, where several containers were carefully arranged.
"Now," he said, holding it up for them to see, "this is what I wanted to show you."
Chen Ren gestured toward a large container nestled in the corner of the frosty room. He carefully opened the lid, revealing a smooth, creamy mixture inside. Using the bowl and spoon, he scooped out a generous serving of a substance and handed it to Yuqiu.
"It's called an ice cream," he explained, looking at the replication of his childhood's favourite snack.
The ice cream glistened faintly in the cold air, but it wasn't the plain white or cream colour he had expected. It was a vibrant orange. The result had came due to the fruit pulp he had added from a common forest fruit called flameberry, known for its bright color and intense sweetness.
Tang Yuqiu frowned slightly as she examined the ice cream. "What is this?"
"Ice cream, I told you," Chen Ren said.
"Ice cream?" she echoed, tilting her head. "I've never heard of it."
Chen Ren smirked. "You'd never heard of noodles or chips before either, but you tried them and liked them. Go on, take a bite."
Hesitating for only a moment, Yuqiu took a small spoonful. The moment the cold treat touched her tongue, her eyes widened in pure surprise. "It's so cold!" she exclaimed, then paused, savouring the sweetness and refreshing sensation. "But it's so sweet and smooth. It's… It's… It's… amazing!"
Without waiting for further encouragement, she eagerly dug in, as though the ice cream might disappear if she didn't eat fast enough. Lihua watched her with growing curiosity, her hunger plain on her face.
Noticing the maid's expression, Chen Ren smiled and scooped out another serving for her. Lihua accepted it with a grateful bow and tasted it. Her reaction mirrored Yuqiu's, eyes lighting up with delight. "It's incredible, young master! So refreshing. I've never tasted anything like this before."
Chen Ren nodded, pleased with their reactions. "I thought so too. With the heat as bad as it is, this would sell incredibly well. But…" He frowned slightly, considering the logistics. "It's not easy to make. Milk, sugar, and the fruit pulp all cost quite a bit. While the results are great, I'd need to target wealthier customers to make a profit. Plus, producing it on a large scale would be tricky, even with the [Frost Arrays] doing half the work for free."
Yuqiu, still savoring her ice cream, looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I believe you'll make a killing at the tournament. In fact, I'm almost starting to regret not investing in this sooner." She paused, then grinned. "Can I still invest? Please?" She gave him her best puppy-dog eyes, leaning closer in mock pleading.
Chen Ren laughed and shook his head. "No, you should stick to the perfume business. That's where your talent lies."
"But if you want to make some quick money," he added with a teasing smirk, "I have a way for you."
Intrigued, Yuqiu leaned forward. "What's that?"
Chen Ren leaned in slightly, lowering his voice for dramatic effect. "The betting markets open tomorrow. Bet on me in the tournament. Just close your eyes, take the risk, and I promise you'll walk away with a nice profit."
"You're awfully confident, aren't you?"
Chen Ren shrugged. "Let's just say I know my odds. And I have enough plans up my sleeve."
***
The sun hung high in the sky, its rays beating down on the arena grounds where the tournament was set to take place in just a few hours.
A massive crowd had already gathered, buzzing with excitement and anticipation. Naturally, most of them gravitated toward the numerous stalls lining the streets outside the arena, each offering a variety of enticing goods.
Among the chaos, Chen Ren stood by his own noodle stall, his arms crossed as he observed the scene. The air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of freshly cooked noodles, drawing long lines of eager customers. Beside him, Xiulan worked efficiently, managing the orders with the same sharpness she had when she first started helping him. The street kids, who had become an essential part of the stall's operation, darted about with bowls of steaming noodles, handing them out to customers and collecting coins in return.
Chen Ren's gaze roamed over the crowd, taking in the energy and the faces—both familiar and new. His eyes briefly stopped at Old Man Tian, whose stall was right next to theirs. The old vendor seemed to be doing brisk business, his gruff demeanor softened just slightly as he barked at the customers, urging them to try his skewers.
But then, Chen Ren's attention shifted, catching sight of someone unexpected in the sea of people. It was her—the unusual beggar girl.
The girl who had once been nothing more than a shadow in the streets. She moved with surprising grace, between the kids, handing out bowls of noodles and collecting payments like she'd been part of the team for years. Her clothes were still plain but noticeably cleaner, and her face—though still thin—had a certain light that wasn't there before.
Chen Ren's thoughts briefly wandered back to their first meeting, when he'd handed her food out of pity and later seen her courage in the fight with the blood snakes. It was hard to reconcile that girl with the one now working confidently among the children, with a deep focus, even though the entire area was buzzing with activity.
As he continued to watch the girl, Tang Xiulan approached him, her hands carefully balancing at least five to ten bowls. She placed them on the table beside them and followed his trail.
"She's diligent," she said, folding her arms. "Her name's Anji. She asked to help out because she didn't want to keep taking free noodles. She's been doing bits and pieces here and there since then. And knowing we'd need more hands with the tournament, I asked if she'd work for three meals a day. She agreed without hesitation."
Chen Ren nodded approvingly. "That's good," he said.
His gaze drifted back to Anji. She was quick on her feet, balancing a tray with ease as she delivered bowls of noodles. At one point, she turned back toward him, just for a fleeting second, and their eyes met.
A strange sensation coursed through Chen Ren, like a faint shiver running up his spine. He felt it through his backbone and towards where the hairs behind his neck rose. What on Earth was that? Chen Ren squinted his eyes and kept staring at her.
There was something about her—a quiet intensity in her gaze that felt out of place, almost too sharp for someone her age. It left him unsettled, though he couldn't say why.
Before he could dwell on it, Tang Xiulan tugged his attention back to her. "By the way," she said casually, "I put all my money on you, Young Master Chen. Just like you said. The odds are twenty times more."
Chen Ren smiled, the unease fading as quickly as it had come. "Good. That'll be a nice pile of silver once I win."
"You sound confident."
"I have to be," Chen Ren replied. "Did you send one of the kids to find Cang Rui?"
She nodded. "Yes. I got one of them to quietly slip word to his servants about where you are. But are you sure about this? From what you've told me, he feels insulted by you. If he shows up, it won't be for tea and conversation."
"That's what I want. This isn't just about noodles and bets. I need a spectacle. Something that'll make people talk. Don't worry—just watch and follow the plan."
Xiulan gave him a long look, then nodded. "Alright. But if this goes sideways, I will go call the guards. They would stop any fight from breaking out."
Chen Ren chuckled softly, but before he could respond, movement at the edge of the crowd caught his attention. Not just his—but also garnered the attention of everyone who was in the vicinity. A group of people pushed their way toward the stalls. At the centre of it all was the purple haired young master—Cang Rui.
He walked as if he owned the roads with large strides. His fine robes swayed with every step and people made space for him. His face was lit with amusement, even his eyes were wrinkled up with the feigned smile he put up. Flanking him were his servants, and behind them were a few other rich-looking young masters.
They all carried an annoying smirk that seemed to be plastered to their faces.
Chen Ren straightened, a slow grin spreading across his face. "My plan begins," he murmured to himself.
Finally, Cang Rui's gaze swept over the stalls, his eyes narrowing slightly as they landed on Chen Ren. He whispered something to one of the young masters at his side, and they all laughed.
Xiulan stiffened beside him. "He brought an audience," she muttered.
Chen Ren nodded. "The more, the better. Let the spectacle unfold."
***
A/N - After the tournament round, there would be a lot more businesses and sect building in volume 2. Even economic wars with sects. I have gotten comments about fights in a slice of life book, but as it's xianxia, I do believe fights will be a common part of the world. Even Beware of Chicken has them if you remember.
Chapter 46
The narrow gaze twisted into one of the ugliest glares Chen Ren had ever seen. The young master's nose flared, but he tried to lighten the mood by saying whatever useless thing he had to say and laughing it off with his lackeys. A group of five men, two as tall as the Tang manor's ceilings and three of the same height as Cang Rui. All of them were well-groomed men who screamed wealth.
Cang Rui's lips curled into a sneer as he leaned towards the men surrounding him and made them laugh. His voice loud enough to prick the attention of the gathering crowd.
They smirked at those who glanced their way, enjoying the whispers that had started to stir due to their presence. Clearly, they enjoyed the attention. Chen Ren remained passive, with his eyes locked onto Cang Rui without betraying any emotion he felt for the troupe.
They continued to walk towards him, and as they did, the crowd in the area shifted like wheat in the wind. People nudged one another, started whispering, and began to part, clearing a path for the approaching group. Some pointed toward Cang Rui, their eyes lighting up with recognition, while others simply stepped aside with wary glances. All the while, their murmurs grew louder and louder.
Not only Chen Ren's face but also his stance didn't change one bit. He stood calmly behind the stall, his gaze steady as it followed Cang Rui's approach. He didn't move, didn't speak. His hands rested lightly on the counter, the faint aroma of freshly cooked noodles wafting from the steaming bowls beside him.
Cang Rui came to a stop a few paces away, his chest heaving as if the walk had fueled his anger further. But the previous laughter he'd feigned was nowhere to be seen. Without wasting a second, he jabbed a finger at Chen Ren.
"Chen Ren! There you are, you coward!"
The crowd stilled. Even the clinking of coins and the sizzling of nearby food stalls seemed to pause, leaving only the echo of his words hanging in the air. Chen Ren knew it wasn't true, and most of the things except for maybe the twenty people surrounding them continued with their tasks as usual. But the feeling, nonetheless, was there.
He tilted his head slightly.
"How exactly am I a coward?" he asked, his voice calm as if he were asking about the weather.
"You ran away from my challenge back at the city lord's office!" Cang Rui snapped, his finger shaking with fury. "Only a coward would do that! You insulted me and now you fear my wrath!"
Chen Ren's lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he suppressed it. How dramatic. These young masters would make excellent actors, he thought, his mind briefly amused by the theatrics before returning to the present.
He straightened slightly and met Cang Rui's furious glare. "Now, let's not twist the story," Chen Ren said evenly. "All I did was ask you to respect some boundaries and wait your turn. You, on the other hand, couldn't handle not getting your way and decided to lash out. Then you attacked me. You should count yourself lucky I didn't take that personally."
Chen Ren motioned toward his stall with a small shrug. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm busy here. Go yell at someone else."
With that, Chen Ren pretended to turn, but he couldn't help but wait for his response. The crowd, however, started whispering once again. Their attention was now fully locked on the exchange. Some chuckled under their breath, while others looked more invested than even the tournament which was about to begin. A man holding a bowl of noodles slurped loudly beside Chen Ren, the sound somehow adding even more… dramatic cue to the tension.
Cang Rui's face darkened further, his hand clenching into a ball at his side. He opened his mouth, but no words came out at first. His eyes swept over the gathered crowd, their curious and entertained faces fueling the fire in his chest.
"You—!" He began again, his voice trembling with fury, but his words faltered as the crowd continued to watch, some even grinning as if they were watching a street play.
Finally, Cang Rui's sneer sharpened. "Your words are as cloutless as your businesses, Chen Ren. You aren't even in the qi refinement realm, yet you keep courting trouble as if you belong among us."
Chen Ren met his glare without flinching. "Funny, considering you're the one who came looking for me."
For a moment, a flicker of energy danced on Cang Rui's palm, the faint glow of a cultivator's intent shimmering in the air between them. Chen Ren's sharp gaze caught it, his body instinctively tensing for a split second. But before the energy could manifest into an attack, one of Cang Rui's companions stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Young Master Cang," the man said smoothly, "there's no need to waste your energy on a battle of words with this fool. Everyone knows that you'll hand over his ass back to him by the end of the tournament."
The words that were said aloud replaced the fury on his face with a cruel smile. He nodded, seemingly placated by the words. Then, with a sharp glance back at Chen Ren, he spoke again, his voice raised to command the crowd's attention.
"You heard him, Chen Ren. I'm here to publicly challenge you in the tournament. There will be no running, no excuses, and no backing down. I'll show everyone my strength and make you kowtow before me an apology!"
The declaration was enough to send a ripple through the crowd. Murmurs buzzed like an unsettled hive as people exchanged glances and whispered among themselves. Some pointed at Chen Ren, while others glanced nervously at Cang Rui.
Chen Ren took a moment to scan the faces in the crowd. Old Man Tian stood a few paces away, his mouth hanging open as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Other stall owners mirrored his stunned expression, their eyes darting between Chen Ren and Cang Rui.
The children, who had paused their work at the stall, looked equally shaken. Their eyes betrayed worry, though none of them dared to speak. Tang Xiulan, however, stood with her arms crossed, her eyes calm, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. She knew this was all part of the plan.
Finally, Chen Ren's gaze landed on the beggar girl, Anji. Unlike everyone else, she seemed entirely unaffected by the tension crackling in the air. She stirred a pot of noodles, her back partially turned to the unfolding drama. She didn't even glance at him or Cang Rui, her focus fixed entirely on her task.
"Alright, I accept your challenge. Let's see who makes who kowtow," Chen Ren said with his hands waving dismissively in the air.
Cang Rui laughed maniacally. "You're confident now, Chen Ren, but you won't be once I'm done with you."
He turned to leave, his companions following close behind, their smug chuckles cutting through the crowd. But just as Cang Rui was about to step away, a voice rang out from the throng, cutting through every other whisper that had started to spread.
"What if he gets defeated before he even faces you in the tournament?"
The crowd stilled, heads swivelling toward the source of the voice. "Wait, who was it?" someone asked loudly. And that was the same question that rang in everyone's minds.
At the sudden interruption, Cang Rui snapped his head toward the crowd, his sharp gaze scanning for the voice that had dared to speak. Yet, no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't locate the source. Frustration flickered across his face before one of his young master companions stepped forward with a smug grin.
"Yeah, that's true," the companion said, loudly enough for the surrounding crowd to hear. "What if this so-called lowly cultivator can't even make it through the battle royale? It'd be a waste of your time, Young Master Cang."
Another chimed in, his tone dripping with mockery. "Exactly. That man isn't a cultivator; he's just a glorified merchant pretending to be one. I doubt he'll even last a minute in the tournament. Most likely, he'll run off before it even ends."
A third added, his laugh cutting through the murmurs. "I heard he lost to Li Xuan in less than a minute during the Soaring Sword Sect entrance exams. A talentless hack like him wouldn't stand a chance."
Cang Rui's confident smirk faltered as he processed their words. His expression shifted through a kaleidoscope of emotions—anger, doubt, and then a calculating gleam in his eyes as he glanced at Chen Ren.
"You're right. This bastard is too weak to make it to the sparring rounds where I can face him properly." He turned toward the crowd, lifting his chin high. "Hence, I declare here and now: I, Cang Rui, will make him kowtow before me in the tournament!" His declaration silenced the crowd, all ears hanging on his next words. "And if anyone dares touch him before I've had my chance, they will be my enemy. Spread the word—Chen Ren is my prey, and no one else has the right to interfere!"
As he finished, he turned to glare at Chen Ren. Yet Chen Ren remained unmoved, his expression blank save for the faintest curve of a smile. It was a subtle gesture, but one that made Cang Rui's frown deepen.
With a final, pointed finger, Cang Rui spat, "Know this, Chen Ren: I'll teach you a lesson in the tournament, and there will be no excuse for you to run away this time!"
Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and stalked away, his entourage following close behind. Some were bumping fists at what had happened, while others simply followed. Chen Ren saw how the crowd parted for him once more, but this time—whispers twice as much as before spreaded throughout the gathered crowd. Many turned their gazes back to Chen Ren, their expressions ranging from pity to outright dismissal, as though he were already a dead man walking.
Chen Ren, however, paid them no mind. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction, his plan working exactly as he'd hoped. He allowed himself a moment to savour the win before a small voice tugged at his attention.
From the edge of the crowd, one of the street kids emerged. It was Chun, his eyes squinted up as the glaring sun bowed upon them, but he had a big smile on his face. "I did well, right?"
Chen Ren smiled back, pulling a small copper wen from his pouch and flicking it to the boy. The child caught it mid-air, grinning ear to ear.
"You did great," Chen Ren said, watching as the boy scurried off, pocketing his reward.
The faintest chuckle escaped his lips as he turned back toward his stall.
Now, let's see how the rest of this plan unfolds.
As the crowd slowly dispersed, Tang Xiulan stepped closer. She had a sly smile on her face. "Young Master Chen, you're really quite the schemer, aren't you?"
Chen Ren shrugged. "Not my fault these young masters are so sheltered they don't even recognize obvious schemes. Cang Rui's arrogance makes him an easy target." He glanced in the direction the young master had stormed off. "Thankfully, his proclamation will spread like wildfire. Most participants won't risk crossing him, so I should have a safer path through the tournament."
Xiulan chuckled softly, folding her arms. "You make it sound so simple."
Outwardly, Chen Ren smiled with confidence, but internally, his thoughts weren't so assured. The plan worked for now, but it's riddled with holes, he admitted to himself. If Cang Rui and I end up in the same bracket during the battle royale, things could go south quickly. And then there's always the chance that someone from outside the city won't care about Cang Rui's threat and decide to attack me anyway.
Still, he allowed himself a small moment of relief. At least for now, I have some measure of protection. It might be just enough to conserve my strength for the later stages of the tournament.
He looked around, seeing the amount of people that had gathered. His first plan had worked, but if he wanted to win the tournament and get all those sweet rewards and the money from the betting markets, he would have to make sure none of his plans falter.
***
As the day progressed, Chen Ren's noodle stall flourished, with an increasing number of customers eager to sample their wares. Tang Xiulan and the children bustled around, serving bowls of steaming noodles to the growing crowd.
Although when they tried to move inside the arena with their handcarts bearing ice cream and chips, they faced a challenge. A challenge in the form of stubborn guards.
They blocked them from entering the arena, talking about some laws that obviously didn't exist.
However, Tang Xiulan took care of the "situation". She slipped the guard a discreet bribe and soon enough, the handcarts were allowed through, and they began peddling ice cream and snacks to the hungry spectators inside. The extra income from this arrangement made Xiulan grin with satisfaction, and Chen Ren decided to leave her in charge of managing the logistics.
His focus shifted to the tournament.
Chen Ren slipped away from the marketplace and into one of the corridors that led into the heart of the arena. The stone walls echoed with murmurs and cheers from the crowd above, growing louder as he approached the open grounds.
His round was scheduled earlier than expected, a fact that initially made him uneasy. As he stepped onto the packed soil of the arena floor, he scanned the gathered competitors. Roughly fifty participants stood in clusters. To his relief, there was no sign of Cang Rui among them. He let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders loosening ever so slightly.
The arena itself was a spectacle. Surrounding the open field, rows of tiered seats overflowed with spectators, many pointing excitedly at the competitors below. Voices called out names, some cheering for their favourites, others placing bets on potential winners. It was… a lot. He'd never experienced one of these arenas, and it starkly reminded him of the Gladiator movie that he had loved.
His eyes scanned across the competitors, searching for familiar faces, but none appeared. He adjusted the hem of his robe, reminding himself to stay focused.
He had come here to win, not to be distracted by what he couldn't control.
The announcer's booming voice interrupted his thoughts, calling for the competitors to assemble near the central platform. Chen Ren joined the group, blending into the sea of cultivators.
As Chen Ren moved through the crowd toward the competitor's platform, his eyes caught a glimpse of Tang Xiulan and one of the street kids, a boy named Jian, selling chips and ice cream to a bunch of girls who were seated. Xiulan handed a bag of chips to a man while the little guy offered a scoop to one of the girls. The sight made Chen Ren smile faintly. They were thriving out there—at least something was going smoothly today.
His attention snapped back to the arena as a tall official, clad in dark green robes embroidered with the city emblem, stepped onto a raised platform. His voice immediately drew all the eyes onto him.
"You all know the basic rules! This is the first round, so no killing is allowed. If you are thrown off the platform, you are disqualified. If you cannot fight any longer, you are disqualified. No pills, no demonic techniques, and no outside interference. You will begin when I give the signal." He swept his hand toward the massive stone stage. "Now, get on the platform."
One by one, the competitors climbed onto the raised battlefield. Chen Ren waited until the crowd thinned before stepping up. As he ascended, he kept his eyes on the other participants, studying their movements. Many returned his gaze, their expressions ranging from curiosity to disdain.
A few even pointed at him and whispered. Chen Ren didn't need to hear the words to know the content—Cang Rui's declaration had undoubtedly spread like wildfire. He could almost feel the weight of their assumptions. Good, he thought, the more they stay away from me, the better.
The official raised a hand, signalling for silence, and the murmurs in the stands faded. His voice boomed across the arena as he addressed the audience.
"Honored spectators, today marks the beginning of this year's tournament, hosted graciously by the City Lord's Estate and with the blessing of the Soaring Sword Sect!" He paused, allowing the crowd to erupt in cheers. "Let this battle royale showcase the strength, determination, and skill of our participants. May the best rise above all others! Competitors begin!"
The moment the words left his mouth, chaos erupted.
Chen Ren stood still as the arena turned into a frenzy. Fighters charged at each other, fists, swords, and techniques flying as alliances crumbled and rivalries ignited. The crowd roared with excitement as competitors clashed, some thrown off the platform within moments.
He watched everything happen while standing steps away from the corner, a smile threatening to break on his face, the wild melee reminding him of the wrestling matches he'd watched as a kid. Adults, fighting as if their life depended on it. Some more desperate than others.
Just as he had hoped, no one made a move toward him. Cang Rui's warning had done its job, and his unassuming behaviour worked in his favour. As the number of competitors dwindled, Chen Ren allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.
But his moment of calm didn't last.
A loud voice rang out from his left. "I don't care who Cang Rui thinks he is! He doesn't decide what I can or can't do!"
Chen Ren turned to see a hot-blooded youth, his face flushed with righteous fury, pointing directly at him.
"I, Mi Fung from Red Willow Village, will defeat you and him! I'll win this tournament and prove my strength to everyone!"
Before Chen Ren could react, the youth charged toward him. So much for flying under the radar, Chen Ren thought, his smile vanishing as he shifted his stance, readying himself for the fight.
Chapter 47
Chen Ren had planned to reach the main rounds of the tournament without much trouble, counting on the influence and recklessness of Cang Rui to clear his path. But he wasn't naive. He knew that while the Cang Clan had power in Cloud Mist City, it didn't hold much sway beyond its borders.
With cultivators from all over gathered for the competition, Chen Ren prepared himself for more than just local troublemakers.
So, when Mi Fung leapt toward him, shouting his name like a budding Xianxia hero, Chen Ren didn't even flinch. With a simple sidestep, he dodged the boy's palm strike, causing the over-eager opponent to stumble dangerously close to the edge of the stage. If he were to jump out of the stage, he'd have been disqualified without another word.
The boy spun around, glaring at Chen Ren, his face red with embarrassment and anger.
"You dare move out of my way? I'll make you kneel once I defeat you!" Mi Fung shouted. His hands were balled into fists in his sides, and the boy seemed to shake. Anger radiated from every inch of his body, and Chen Ren barely stopped himself from laughing.
Instead, he smirked and said, "Get in line, kid. Also, who even talks like that? You're some village kid with inherent spirit roots, not the prince of the empire."
The boy's face darkened with rage. He inhaled deeply and lunged again, yelling the name of his move like it would make it stronger.
"[Heavenly Trusted Strike!]"
Chen Ren sighed, shaking his head as he effortlessly dodged the punch. The boy swung with his other fist, but this time, Chen Ren caught it mid-air and held it firmly. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the struggling cultivator.
"You don't even seem to be at the fifth star of the body forging realm. What makes you so confident?" Chen Ren asked and raised his eyebrows in question.
But before the boy could reply, Chen Ren's fist crackled with lightning. I don't need to know the answer! With a quick motion, he struck the boy square in the chest, sending him flying off the stage. The unlucky cultivator crashed into another participant, knocking both of them out cold.
Chen Ren crossed his arms and waited, half-expecting the boy to jump up, stronger and more determined, like one of those "hidden protagonist" types who only grew tougher the more they struggle. Instead, there was just silence as the crowd murmured in surprise.
Just in case, he stood there for a moment, watching as the boy lay sprawled on the ground, completely unconscious.
Finally, he let out a quiet sigh of relief. "Not a hidden protagonist after all," he muttered, shaking his head and turning his attention to the rest of the arena.
The battles around him were brutal, and it didn't take long for the arena to clear out. Over half the cultivators were either lying on the ground or being dragged out by the attendants. Blood splattered the floor in various places, even though killing wasn't allowed at this stage of the competition. The sight made Chen Ren feel a little nauseous, but he suppressed it. He had seen enough bloodshed by now to keep himself in check.
Eventually, the chaos began to subside, and only two people remained in the arena: Chen Ren and one other man.
As he glanced at his final opponent, recognition flashed in his eyes. It was the man in leather armour, the one Yalan had analysed back in the city lord office. She'd mentioned a lingering injury in his left leg—a weakness Chen Ren had tucked away in his mind just in case—especially if a situation as the moment right now arose.
The man noticed Chen Ren as well, the fear in his eyes shifting as conflicting emotions flickered across his face. Chen Ren guessed what was going through his mind. He had probably heard about Cang Rui's threats and was now weighing whether to give face to the Cang Clan or fight for his own chance at the rewards and the opportunity to enter a sect.
Finally, he seemed to reach a decision. He gave a slight bow and said, "I, Yeng Wi, don't want to surrender. I've sacrificed a lot to stand here and would prefer to leave only after a proper fight."
Chen Ren smirked at that. "That's understandable. Come at me, then."
Yeng Wi didn't hesitate. He charged forward, gripping a halberd tightly in his hands. As he closed the distance, a gust of wind seemed to swirl around him, boosting his speed and sharpening the blade of his weapon. Chen Ren noted the enhancement but didn't let it rattle him. With his movement technique, he darted around the halberd, narrowly avoiding its sweeping arc.
Lightning crackled around Chen Ren's palm as he aimed a punch at Yeng Wi's side. But the man dodged, stepping back just in time.
Chen Ren smirked. Using the feint to his advantage, he shifted his weight and launched a sharp kick at Yeng Wi's left leg, the one Yalan had pointed out as injured.
The strike connected. Yeng Wi's face twisted in pain as he staggered, his footing faltering. Chen Ren took a step back, watching carefully to see if his opponent could recover.
Just as Chen Ren had expected, Yeng Wi collapsed to the ground, clutching his injured leg and crying out in pain. Despite his obvious disadvantage, the man gritted his teeth and swung his halberd at Chen Ren in a desperate attempt to land a hit. But Chen Ren was ready. With a flick of his wrist, lightning crackled to life, surging around him for everyone around him to feel.
The force knocked the halberd from Yeng Wi's hands, sending it clattering to the ground. Chen Ren stepped closer, narrowing his eyes and looked down at the fallen man.
"You have a lingering injury on your left leg," Chen Ren said and gestured at the leg. "You can't win this fight, no matter what. Just give up, or you'll only make things harder for yourself."
Yeng Wi's eyes widened in shock at the statement, and he opened his mouth to respond. But before he could say a word, Chen Ren cut him off. "If 'I surrender' isn't the next thing you say," he added, "I'll hit your injury again."
Fear flashed across Yeng Wi's face, and he quickly shouted, "I surrender!"
The official overseeing the match stepped forward and raised his voice. "The winner is Chen Ren of Red Peak City!"
With that, cheers erupted from the crowd, and Chen Ren's name echoed through the arena. He raised his fists in acknowledgment, a small smile tugging at his lips. His gaze naturally drifted toward Tang Xiulan and the others in the stands. They were clapping and smiling, their support warming him more than the cheers of strangers ever could.
But as he turned to leave the arena, his ears caught faint murmurs from the crowd—boos and accusations of cheating.
"Of course he won. No one dared to attack him because of the Cang Rui."
"Typical. A victory handed to him."
Chen Ren let the words roll off him. He'd known this was coming the moment he agreed to let Cang Rui's influence clear his path. He smirked faintly to himself and kept walking, head held high. The tournament wasn't over yet, and he still had much to prove.
***
After his battle royale round, Chen Ren wasted no time and returned to his business. The familiar routine of selling things was a comfort—much better than being in the middle of blood and gore, and with every transaction, he felt his qi swirl more intensely within his dantian.
Although the noodles were now offering diminishing returns in terms of qi generation, his newer creations—chips and ice cream—were proving to be a hit. Ice cream, in particular, seemed to have a much stronger effect on his qi than the chips, though Chen Ren wasn't sure why.
Maybe it was because it was more expensive, or perhaps there was something special about it. Either way, he enjoyed the results, the steady stream of customers and the exciting look on their faces after trying ice cream.
As he moved through the arena, peddling his wares, he couldn't help but overhear snippets of conversation about himself. Some of it was positive, praising his skill or his victory in the arena. But there were just as many whispers calling him a cheater. Those voices seemed to have grown louder since the battle royale, with more people learning about how the Cang Clan's influence had likely played a role in his advancement.
Chen Ren didn't let it bother him much. He figured most of the negativity came from people who had lost money betting against him. After all, they probably saw him as nothing more than a weak upstart who'd gotten lucky.
That perception didn't worry him; he was confident it would change with time. Until it affected his business, he cared little for his reputation. Besides, the quality and uniqueness of his products kept people coming back. For now, the attention was focused on his goods, not him, and that was exactly how he liked it.
Still, amidst the whispers, he picked up valuable information about the competition. There was talk of the other prominent cultivators who had entered, and one name stood out to Chen Ren: Li Xuan.
Li Xuan was the man who had defeated and killed Chen Ren's predecessor. Though Chen Ren had briefly heard of him before, it hadn't been confirmed that Li Xuan would participate in the tournament. After all, he had already moved on to the prestigious Soaring Sword Sect. But now it was certain—Li Xuan was here, and from what Chen Ren gathered, he was last year's champion.
Many cultivators had joined the competition this year just for a chance to face Li Xuan. Perhaps that was the reason Li Xuan had entered, too. Chen Ren wouldn't be surprised if the City Lord had convinced his son to participate to elevate the tournament's prestige even further.
Rather than dwelling on the implications of Li Xuan's presence, Chen Ren was more curious about the man's strength. From his inherited memories, he recalled that Li Xuan had been at the peak of the body forging realm during their last battle. It was almost certain that he had since broken through to higher realms.
The thought of seeing Li Xuan's current capabilities intrigued him, so Chen Ren decided to watch his battle royale match from the spectator stands. After all, what better way to know your competitor than on the field?
As he leaned forward, his eyes scanning the arena below, a voice interrupted his focus.
"So, you're the one selling this ice cream I've been hearing so much about?"
Chen Ren turned to see a middle-aged man standing nearby, his face glistening with sweat. The afternoon sun blazed overhead, and the oppressive heat had everyone seeking some form of relief. It was no surprise that his ice cream had become a breakout hit under these conditions.
With his best salesman's smile, Chen Ren straightened and said, "That's right. Do you want to try some? It's only 10 copper wen per scoop."
The man's hopeful eyes faltered. "That's too expensive! None of the food stalls here are charging that much."
Chen Ren tilted his head and sighed. The heat clearly seemed to have gotten into his head. "That's because none of them are selling ice cream," he replied smoothly. "It's not easy to make, you know. I even need cultivators to use frost arrays on my containers just to preserve them. Honestly, I'm barely making a profit here."
The man hesitated, glancing around at the arena stands before looking up at the sun hanging in the sky and brushing sweat off his forehead. Finally, he grumbled, "Fine, give me one scoop. It better be worth it."
"You bet."
Without wasting time, Chen Ren grabbed a wooden bowl and scooped out a portion of the chilled dessert. Handing it over, he said, "Enjoy, but make sure to return the bowl once you're done."
The man muttered a distracted "Sure, sure," already focused on the ice cream. He took an extremely small bite from the ice cream, and soon his eyes widened. He licked his lips deliciously and looked inside the bowl.
"Oh my! Oh my!" He began devouring the rest of the ice cream without a pause, some of it dripping from the corners of his mouth, but soon, he collected them and didn't allow a drop to go to waste.
Chen Ren allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction at the man's expression and the swirling qi in his dantian before a loud roar from the arena below pulled his attention.
He leaned forward, scanning the arena just as the announcer declared the start of the match. The crowd erupted in cheers, and the sound of clashing weapons echoed from the combatants below. Chen Ren's focus sharpened, his eyes searching for a familiar face.
A voice suddenly called out from behind him—inside his mind. "Assessing your competition, are we?"
Chen Ren turned to see Yalan perched on the railing of the stand, her amber eyes gleaming with mischief. Without responding aloud, he nodded slightly before gesturing toward the arena. "That's him."
Yalan followed his gaze to where a young man wielding a sword was cutting through his opponents effortlessly. "The one who killed the person I was supposed to protect," she said in a dead tone, her eyes squinting at the man.
Li Xuan was a tall man— taller than most people in the city. He was at least a foot taller than Chen Ren, standing at seven feet and had long hair that was braided to the middle of his back. It was a shiny blonde colour that stood out from most, giving him the look of a protagonist from one of the Xianxia books he had read back in his previous life.
With extreme focus, he showed off his sword skills, gracefully moving through the dozens of cultivators in the arena and striking them down with precise strikes. A faint crackle of lightning danced along his sword, but unlike Chen Ren's volatile energy, Li Xuan's control was impeccable.
"He's good," Yalan remarked. "Much better than the last time I saw him."
Chen Ren's brow furrowed. "How strong is he? Can you see his soul?"
Yalan shook her head. "No, I can't. I believe he's using an artifact to conceal his aura. But if I had to guess, he's in the first star of qi refinement. That said, he could easily defeat someone a star or two above him. His techniques are clearly practiced daily. I don't see anyone in this tournament beating him."
Chen Ren raised an eyebrow. "Not even me?"
Yalan turned to him, her expression serious. "You've been scheming your way into the top sixteen, relying on tricks and strategies. But that kid fights like a veteran. He won't be easy to deal with."
Chen Ren's gaze didn't waver as he watched Li Xuan dispatch another opponent. "The demonic cultivator also used a sword," he said after a moment, "and had a way to hide detection, didn't he?"
Yalan gave him a sharp look. "Yes, you're right. Do you think he's—"
Chen Ren didn't answer immediately, his mind racing as he considered the possibility. But it seemed too far-fetched.
"No, I don't think so… I'm just thinking about how hard it's going to be to find the demonic cultivator until he shows himself. A third of the cultivators here use swords, and it makes sense for someone to have a technique or artifact to hide themselves, especially with this many strong individuals around. If the demonic cultivator is here, he can easily slip past us."
Yalan purred. "Yes, I've been doing patrols around the area, keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious. But so far, I haven't seen anyone who fits the profile."
She paused, glancing toward the arena's stands, where waves of cultivators watched the battle royale, their eyes fixed on Li Xuan. "Still," she added, "only a rash individual—even among demonic cultivators—would come to a tournament with so many cultivators around. The risk of exposure is far too high."
"You're not wrong… But desperation does strange things to people. If he's here, he's either exceptionally bold or has a very specific reason for taking the risk. Either way, we can't afford to let our guard down."
Chen Ren's grip on the railing tightened as he watched Li Xuan strike down his final opponent with a flourish.
His opponent crumbled to the ground, his weapon shattered, and the announcer's voice boomed over the noise, declaring him the victor. Li Xuan stood tall in the centre of the arena, his blade resting casually on his shoulder.
Cheers erupted all around. The entire fight felt like Li Xuan practising instead of actually putting in the effort to fight. He inclined his head in a polite bow toward the roaring crowd, his composure unshaken by the attention. As he straightened, his gaze swept across the stands, lingering briefly on Chen Ren.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Chen Ren tensed, he felt his knuckles turning white, but Li Xuan's eyes betrayed no recognition. He looked away without a second thought, striding confidently toward the exit.
Yalan snickered, her amber eyes gleaming with amusement. "He doesn't even recognize you."
Chen Ren exhaled softly and nodded. "Not yet. But I think I'll just have to make our next meeting memorable enough that he never forgets me."
As the words left his mouth, a chill ran down his spine. His instincts flared, and he turned his head toward the opposite side of the arena. There, amidst the sea of spectators, stood a man whose eyes locked up with his.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, draped in a dark cloak. His features were rugged and sharp while his skin was pale, almost sickly, which was the polar opposite of the dark lines of scars and tattoos that crawled up his neck and disappeared beneath his collar.
Chen Ren's fingers twitched instinctively as the man kept his gaze on him.
Chapter 48
For a moment, Chen Ren thought the man was glaring directly at him. The intensity of his gaze felt like it could pierce through the crowd, locking him in place. But then, the man's eyes shifted elsewhere, and he turned, disappearing into the throng of spectators without a second glance.
"What's wrong?" Yalan asked, her voice laced with curiosity as she perched on the railing.
"Nothing," Chen Ren replied evenly, though his thoughts were still racing. "Can you see through that man?"
Yalan tilted her head, her small eyes narrowing as she scanned the crowd. "No. He seems to have some sort of detection-blocking artifact. But I don't think he's that strong. Probably a bit weaker than you, actually."
"Is that so?" Chen Ren mused, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Then I'm just being paranoid. He seems like one of the competitors, but if he's not that strong, he probably won't do well in the tournament."
Yalan's tail flicked once. "Yeah, you should just focus on selling your stuff and your battles. Leave the rest to fate."
Chen Ren nodded, though a lingering unease remained in his chest. His mind drifted back to that night with the spectral rhinos, when even the shadows felt much more dangerous than they actually were. Since then, paranoia tugged at him every now and then. He supposed it was inevitable, given that the demonic cultivator hadn't been caught yet.
He could be anywhere, Chen Ren thought grimly. But like Yalan had said, it would take either a fool or someone incredibly reckless to attend a tournament crawling with cultivators.
He exhaled, shaking off the feeling, and was brought back to the present by a shout. "Hey, ice cream man! Over here!"
Chen Ren turned to see a burly man waving him over impatiently. He grabbed a bowl, scooped out a serving of ice cream, and walked over to hand it off. The man grunted his thanks before digging in, leaving Chen Ren to return to his stand.
***
The battle royale round ended quickly, the competitors falling one by one as the arena grew quieter, leaving only the strongest standing. Chen Ren had hoped to spectate the entire event, watching the clashes of cultivators to learn more about his potential threats, but most of his attention was consumed by his stall and the handcart he had set up inside the arena.
Seeing other vendors peddling their goods made it clear that he wasn't the only one with this idea, many had bribed the guards to set up shop inside the arena. Though, unlike his ice cream and chips, their sales were much slower, their goods not as unique or appealing to the crowds.
Day by day, Chen Ren found himself selling over three hundred bowls of noodles, about one hundred and fifty packs of chips, and around a hundred servings of ice cream. While it seemed like the ice cream wasn't making as much, its price was higher than the other items, and unlike noodles or chips, it had a dedicated group of recurring customers who returned for it every day in the arena.
At a glance, it was clear Chen Ren was doing well. He was pulling in hundreds of silver wen every day, and his qi was constantly swirling within him, rising as his cultivation slowly increased with each passing moment.
He could feel a breakthrough coming, the pull of his cultivation urging him to step forward. But Chen Ren held back. He didn't want to use the opportunity just yet—he was saving it for the semi-finals.
A small voice in his mind warned him that he might not even reach the semi-finals, but he chose to ignore it.
Confidence in his abilities was key, especially knowing he had many tricks up his sleeve. If he was honest with himself, he felt he could hold his own against even a qi refinement realm cultivator. But, fortunately, or unfortunately, he never got the chance to test it.
After all, each of his opponent kept surrendering.
"Zichen surrenders! Chen Ren wins the round and secures his place in the semi-finals!" An official announced and was followed by a brief pause, his voice ringing clearly through the arena. "The defeated cultivator Meng Tou will receive the standard rewards for the top 8— five spirit stones, three pills, and one weapon of his choice!"
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd, though Chen Ren hardly noticed. He allowed himself a small smile at the announcement, but his attention was already on his opponent. The man's face was twisted into a grimace, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Every fiber of his being radiated frustration and humiliation.
Meng Tou had surrendered without even launching a single attack, a decision influenced by something far beyond his control.
The man's shoulders shook with barely restrained anger, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. He cast one final glare—at Chen Ren, then at the sky—before stepping off the stage. His movements were stiff, as if each step was an effort to hold himself together.
Chen Ren's smile faded, replaced by a more somber expression. A pang of sympathy tugged at him. He understood too well how it felt to be powerless, to have no choice but to surrender before even launching one punch.
His thoughts drifted to his previous opponent, the girl he had faced in the top 16. She had looked on the verge of tears as she surrendered, her head bowed in defeat. The memory of her trembling hands and downcast gaze lingered uncomfortably in his mind. He hadn't known what to say then, and even now, words seemed inadequate.
Instead, he had sent Xiulan to offer her some ice cream after the match. It was a small gesture, hardly enough to erase the sting of defeat, but he hoped it had brought her a sliver of comfort. Watching her accept it with hesitant gratitude had lightened the weight on his chest, if only a little.
Ice cream was, afterall, a good comfort dessert.
The world wasn't kind, and it was easy to feel sorry for those forced to give up, but in his heart, he knew he would've won against both of them regardless of their circumstances. He tried to think of it positively.
The competition wasn't about fairness; it was about survival. And though he knew it was a bit underhanded, scheming was part of the game. There were no rules barring him from using every trick at his disposal, and the so-called righteous cultivators here were no different than the bloodthirsty murderhobos, all pride and ego, willing to do anything to stay on top.
Still, the boos of the crowd affected him a bit. Their discontent was palpable—jeers and shouts of "coward" and other insults rang through the air. They were disappointed by the lack of a fight, and though he understood why, it didn't make it any easier to bear. He turned toward them, meeting their eyes for a brief moment, and silently vowed to turn their boos into cheers next time.
The trick might not work in the semi-finals, but he'd make sure they wouldn't be disappointed again.
Before stepping off the platform, Chen Ren's gaze shifted upward. He noticed a special area in the arena, elevated above the crowd, reserved for important figures.
It looked like a VIP box at a sports match, and in it sat a few individuals, observing the events below. Among them, his eyes landed on an old man with a large beard, dressed in robes that immediately told Chen Ren he was from the Soaring Sword Sect. Chen Ren vaguely recalled him from the sect entrance examinations. He caught Chen Ren's eyes with the air of someone who had seen it all, someone who wouldn't easily be impressed.
His eyes seemed… calculating, observing him from above and taking everything in.
Next to the elder sat a burly man, his intense gaze focused on the arena with a scowl on his face. His expensive robes indicated his high status, and the way he spoke angrily to a man seated to his left confirmed his importance. Chen Ren recognized him immediately—the city lord, Li Baolong. From the way he glared at the proceedings, Chen Ren guessed that the city lord was none too pleased with how things were unfolding.
He probably disapproved of Chen Ren's unorthodox methods. But as long as he didn't break any rules, there was nothing the city lord could do to him.
As he took in the scene, Chen Ren couldn't help but notice the differences between Li Xuan and his father. The city lord and his son clearly didn't share much in terms of appearance. Chen Ren had expected some resemblance, but Li Xuan didn't seem to look anything like the older man, suggesting he must have inherited his features from his mother.
After giving a respectful bow toward the distinguished figures in the VIP box, Chen Ren turned away. He wasn't here to cater to the whims of the powerful. He had his eyes on the prize—preparing for the semi-finals. With his next fight on the horizon, he knew it might not be able to get away with it without fighting.
***
The city lord, Li Baolong, sat in the elevated stands in the arena, his eyes never leaving it. His lips were tightened in frustration as he watched the battle end in surrender. His gaze landed on the young man who had gotten an entry into the semi finals without a single scratch on him and the crowd's harsh words and boos that followed him. Their discontent was palpable.
Li Baolong clenched his jaw, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "Isn't this a mockery of our city's tournament?" he muttered under his breath, his words leaving his mouth heavy with disdain. His leg continuously bounced up and down impatiently. "Someone makes it to the semi-finals and hasn't even bled once in the process? Not a single exchange of blows, no real effort. Why is everyone surrendering like this to this man? What's his background?"
A steward standing nearby, his posture stiff with unease and the long hours of standing, quickly leaned in to answer. "Lord, he's a man from Red Peak City. His name is Chen Ren and he has gained some notoriety for two reasons. First, he won a Trial by Might against Bai Shen, the young master of the Bai Hu Trade Association. Second, his businesses, particularly his perfumes, are becoming quite popular among mortal women in the region. However, the real reason behind the surrender is a rumor. It is said that Cang Rui of the Cang Clan has spread word that anyone fighting this man will earn the ire of his clan. According to the rumor, only Cang Rui is allowed to defeat him."
Li Baolong's face darkened further, the disbelief etched across his features twisting into a mixture of anger and incredulity. "That's bullshit!" he snapped, his voice rising. "If that's the reason, then what does it say about this tournament? A man who doesn't even break a sweat in his victories, and people surrendering left and right? It's all because of rumors?" His voice dripped with derision as he leaned forward, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the chair's armrests. "This is disgraceful! Where's the honor in this?"
His anger mounting, Li Baolong turned sharply toward the man seated to his right, a figure draped in deep purple robes and adorned with an air of reserved authority. "Lord Cang, is that true?" his voice carried a biting edge, the question less a query and more a demand for an explanation.
The man, Cang Huasheng, maintained his composure despite the pointed accusation. He inclined his head in a show of respect, though his expression betrayed a flicker of discomfort. "I must apologize, Lord Li," he said. "It is true that my son, Cang Rui, has always been hasty in his words. He was deeply offended by this man, and perhaps his pride got the better of him. It seems he may have spoken out of turn, and for that, I take full responsibility. But rest assured," he added, "there is no way this man will make it out of the semi-finals. I will personally ensure that whoever fights him doesn't hold back in their match."
Li Baolong's anger simmered, his lips pressing into a thin line as he nodded sharply. "Do that," he said curtly. "And next time, tell your son to keep his mouth shut. Spreading such rumors brings a very bad flavor to the tournament. At this rate, even someone entirely unworthy could make it to the semi-finals."
Just as the tension in the room seemed to settle, a voice cut through the charged atmosphere. "Unworthy? I doubt that, Lord Li."
The words came from Elder Yan Xiu of the Soaring Sword Sect, who had been quietly observing the proceedings from his seat. His voice was calm yet carried a weight of authority that commanded attention.
Li Baolong's gaze snapped toward Yan Xiu, his brow furrowing in confusion and annoyance. "What do you mean?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism. "Do you think a mere seventh-star body-forging realm cultivator is worthy of making it this far? Greater cultivators have failed long before reaching the semi-finals. Even the man who surrendered just now was at the ninth star."
Yan Xiu nodded thoughtfully. "You are right, Lord Li, but cultivation realms aren't everything." He paused, eyes narrowing at parts of the crowd. "Despite the surrenders, that man's entire body stance was fitted for battle as if he was prepared for even a fight rather than a surrender. His eyes—there was no fear in them. Moreover, one of his hands was very close to the pockets of his robes. He has planned things in advance. He might not have great cultivation, but I don't think he's here just because of circumstances. He might just surprise you."
Lord Li Baolong opened his mouth to respond, but just then, another figure entered the box, cutting him off.
"I agree with that."
Everyone turned as Tang Jihao, the esteemed elder from the Tang Clan, walked in. His complexion looked a little better than the last time they had seen him, and even his walk—exuded an air of dignity.
Li Baolong raised an eyebrow, a little surprised. "You look to be having better health now, Tang Jihao."
Tang Jihao gave a modest smile, nodding respectfully. "My daughter's success has made my illness much more tolerable," he said. "I didn't want to miss watching the tournament, so I came here in person."
Everyone nodded in acknowledgment, and Tang Jihao settled into a seat beside them. Li Baolong, however, was still deep in thought. He turned toward him. "What do you mean, you agree with elder Yan Xiu?" he asked.
"Chen Ren lives with me." His eyes were distant as he looked at the arena, seeing how people were mingling with each other. "And I must admit, I've been surprised by him every step of the way. I've seen him push through situations that would have broken most others. I have confidence in him. His abilities go beyond what others might perceive at first glance."
Lord Li Baolong studied Tang Jihao closely. "Confidence is good, Tang Jihao," he replied, "But I don't think just that will help the young man. After all, soon there will only be four people left, and none of them will be weak enough to surrender. He'll have to fight—really fight—and then we will see if he's actually worthy."
Tang Jihao turned in his seat slightly and looked at Li Baolong in his eyes. He offered a gentle smile and said, "We'll see, Lord Li. We'll see if my confidence in him is misplaced."
The city lord snorted, clearly not convinced. "We shall, indeed! But when the real battle begins, only the strongest will remain. We'll see how your young friend fares then."
***
Merry Christmas!