Chapter 160 - 10-16

010 A Commoner's Wisdom

I narrowed my eyes at the fragile paper scoop in my hand. The thin net quivered as I dipped it into the water, aiming for a goldfish drifting lazily in the tank. My movements were precise, calculated. I was a Paladin, damn it. My reflexes were honed beyond mortal limits, my body refined to perfection.

And yet—

Rip.

The moment I lifted the net, the delicate paper tore as if mocking me.

I stared at the water in silence, watching the goldfish swim away unbothered. My scoop was now nothing more than a useless metal ring.

The old man running the stall let out a wheezing laugh, his grin smug. "Hah! Another one down!"

I exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to snap the wooden handle in my grip. No. I wasn't some reckless fool throwing a tantrum over a festival game. I had patience. Skill.

And yet, here I was—losing.

I glanced at the old man, his arms crossed as he leaned lazily against the counter. "Give up yet, boy?"

I snorted and reached for another scoop. "Not a chance." This was the best chance I have of mastering my stats, not to mention improve my control.

The moment the net touched the water, the goldfish scattered as if they had sensed my intent.

I paused.

Could they sense me?

My eyes narrowed. These weren't ordinary fish, were they? Had this old man trained them? Were they spirit creatures disguised as common festival prizes?

I adjusted my grip and made another attempt.

Rip.

Another failure.

The stall owner let out a snort, shaking his head. "That's six now. Maybe you should quit before you waste all your coin."

I stared at the tiny fish, their soulless little eyes brimming with mockery.

This game was rigged.

By all logic, I should have had the advantage. My cultivation had refined my body beyond human limits. I could move faster than the eye could see, snatch them barehanded, and be done with it.

But I wasn't going to cheat.

I had my pride.

Moreover, this was training.

Even if it meant losing to a bunch of smug, slippery fish.

With a sigh, I tossed the broken scoop onto the counter. "Fine. You win."

The old man grinned, throwing his arms up like he had just conquered an empire. "Hah! I told you! Now go home, sore loser!"

I took a slow, deep breath. Let it go. Let it go.

I had endured countless tribulations, battled fierce cultivators, even survived transmigrating to this absurd world. And yet—

I had been defeated by an old man and his cursed goldfish.

Truly, there was always a higher mountain.

If I were some brutish barbarian, a savage orc, or an unrighteous cultivator with no regard for consequence, this old man would have been soaring across the festival grounds by now. Perhaps his stall as well. Maybe even his entire livelihood.

But no.

I was civilized. Honorable. Benevolent.

With the restraint befitting a Paladin, I tossed the tattered remnants of my paper scoop onto the counter. "You win."

The old man's grin was so smug, I nearly reconsidered my stance on casting Holy Smite upon the unworthy.

Instead, I turned on my heel and strode away before I did something that might require divine absolution.

As I wove through the festival streets, the irritation faded. The night air pulsed with life—laughter, music, the distant pop of fireworks. Street performers balanced on stilts, others breathed fire, while merchants bellowed over each other to sell their wares.

Then—

A small figure darted into my path.

"Sir! Sir! Take one!"

A child shoved a colorful flyer into my hands before scampering off to ambush the next passerby.

I raised a brow and unfolded it.

Yellow Dragon City's Grand Festival Itinerary

Day 1: Welcoming the honorable guests from the sects and clans.

Day 2: Elimination Round hosted by the City Governor for the dueling event.

Day 3: Dueling Event - Best 8.

Day 4: Quarter Finals.

Day 5: Semi-Finals.

Day 6: Grand Finals.

Day 7: Grand Feast.

Wait… a damn minute…

Best eight?

"Am I getting my math wrong?"

Meh…

Maybe there was a gimmick in the event.

So… this was a seven-day affair.

Hmmm….

No wonder the city was overflowing with cultivators. This wasn't just a festival—it was a battleground for the young elites, a stage for them to display their strength, claim glory, and perhaps even attract powerful patrons.

I tapped a finger against the flyer. The elimination round was tomorrow. If I wanted to watch, I had until today to secure a ticket.

…Where did one even buy a ticket for this sort of thing?

"Senior, have some."

I barely stopped myself from flinching.

Gu Jie had appeared at my side, silent as a shadow. I hadn't noticed her approach at all.

That was... unsettling.

She matched my pace without a word, holding out two sticks of tanghulu—glossy, candied hawthorn skewered in a neat row. She offered one to me without hesitation.

I took it.

So she had taken my earlier words to heart. My casual remark about enjoying the festival—she had taken it as a direct command.

I bit into the tanghulu. The shell cracked, giving way to the tart sweetness inside. Not bad.

My gaze flickered toward Gu Jie. She was still holding her own skewer, hesitating.

I wasn't fond of followers.

Even as a Paladin, I had always preferred solitude. In the past, I relished duels—one-on-one combat, no need to rely on allies, no waiting on teammates to fumble, no unnecessary entanglements.

But this wasn't a game.

This world had no respawns. Probably.

Perhaps having an ally or two wouldn't be the worst idea.

I chewed thoughtfully. "And the other errand?"

Gu Jie straightened, though there was a flicker of nervousness in her eyes. "The books? I will retrieve them from an acquaintance the day after tomorrow."

She fidgeted slightly.

That was… unexpected.

For someone as sharp as Gu Jie, a simple book purchase shouldn't have made her this skittish.

I cast her a sidelong glance.

Something was on her mind.

So I asked plainly, "What's on your mind?"

Gu Jie hesitated for the briefest moment before replying, "Haven't caught up on your name, Senior."

Ah. So that was it.

I chewed the last of my tanghulu, then answered, "David. My name is David."

Gu Jie blinked. "Huh?"

I smirked, recalling Liang Na's earlier butchering of my name. Might as well lean into it.

"But you can call me Da Wei."

Gu Jie pursed her lips, as if testing the name in her mind. Then, to my mild surprise, she asked, "Can I call you Master?"

I shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat."

Her lips curled into a small smile. "Thank you, Master."

And then—she looked up at me.

Her head tilted ever so slightly, dark lashes framing her gaze, her brown eyes holding the faintest sheen of warmth. A picture-perfect display of obedience, as if trying to appear endearing.

…Yeah, no. Not buying it.

I knew better than to lower my guard. Xianxia stories had taught me that a situation like this only led to one of two possibilities:

A treacherous beauty with hidden motives.A Type-1 dumbass heroine whose only purpose was to make the protagonist look good.Unfortunately, both scenarios required me to be a protagonist. And I had no interest in that role.

Still, I was a Paladin before anything else. And if there was one thing I tried to do, it was see the good in people.

Besides, Gu Jie was only human.

The sickly pallor she once had was fading now that she was eating properly. Her ragged hair had been cut and washed, falling smoothly over her shoulders. The dark robes she wore—subtly embroidered with golden dragons—made her look like a cultivator of a proper sect.

She looked the part.

But in the end, she was just a person. Not some nameless bandit barely surviving on scraps.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Go buy me a ticket for the dueling event tomorrow."

Gu Jie's eyes sharpened slightly, but she nodded. "Yes, Master."

Without another word, she turned and slipped into the festival crowd, vanishing as easily as a shadow at dusk.

I watched her go.

She was only a First Realm cultivator, but she had survived this long. That meant she had skills—ones I had yet to see. Keeping her at my side had its advantages.

And I wasn't joking when I decided to rehabilitate at least this one bandit.

Consider it a side quest.

I wandered through the festival streets, taking in the preparations, letting my thoughts drift. Eventually, my steps led me near a small eatery.

A young server, dressed in simple robes, was slumped against the wall, clearly on a break.

I stepped closer. "Care to earn a quick coin while still being able to rest?"

The server cracked an eye open, looking me over with suspicion. "Sounds too good to be true."

I flipped a copper coin into the air and caught it. "Depends on how much you like talking."

The server straightened slightly, interest piqued. "I'm listening."

I sat down on a nearby bench, stretching out comfortably. "I just need some local information. What's happening with the festival? Who's in charge? Any interesting rumors?"

The server sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Hah… so you're one of those outsiders trying to get a leg up, huh?"

I smiled. "Something like that."

Truthfully, I wasn't completely satisfied with what I'd learned from Gu Jie. There were too many gaps in my knowledge.

I had taken her in, but that didn't mean I trusted her yet. She was still in a probationary period, and while I liked to see the good in people, a little caution never hurt anyone.

More importantly, I needed to verify what she had told me.

"For a coin, I'll tell you what I know," the server said, rubbing his chin.

I flipped the copper coin in my palm before flicking it toward him. He caught it mid-air with the ease of someone used to handling money.

"Alright," he said, rubbing his thumb over the coin. "Ask away."

I leaned back. "What do you know about cultivators?"

The server scoffed, shaking his head. "Same as anywhere else, I suppose. Cultivators are like gods. People revere them, fear them, and avoid them when possible. They can summon storms with a flick of their hands and tear apart mountains like it's nothing."

I hummed in acknowledgment. "And cultivation realms?"

His expression blanked. "Cultivation realms?"

"Yeah. How strong they get, what their ranks are—things like that."

The server frowned, clearly out of his depth. "Beats me. I'm just a commoner. All I know is that the stronger they get, the less they bother with folks like us."

That was… disappointing.

I had hoped to cross-examine Gu Jie's information, but it seemed that cultivation knowledge was vague and scarce among the common folk. Even a city-dweller had no clue.

If he was this uninformed, then most people probably were as well.

What a bummer.

I exhaled, shifting my approach. "How about more mundane things, then?"

"Depends on what you mean by mundane," the server replied.

I smirked. "Let's start simple—what's the name of this continent?"

He raised a brow, eyeing me like I was an idiot. "You a lost foreigner or something?"

"Something like that."

He shrugged. "Riverfall Continent."

Good. Now I wouldn't sound like a fool when someone else mentioned it.

"And this city? Who rules it?"

"The City Governor, of course," he said, rubbing his temples. "You really ain't from around here, huh?"

"Indulge me."

The server sighed before continuing, "Our City Governor is an imperial prince sent by the Empire. They say this city thrives because of his wisdom. Trade, roads, even this festival—it's all under his rule."

An imperial prince?

That was a crucial piece of information. It meant that while the city prospered, it wasn't independent.

I leaned forward slightly. "And this Empire… it's the strongest force in Riverfall?"

The server chuckled. "If it wasn't, we'd be ruled by someone else, wouldn't we?"

Fair enough.

While his perspective was limited, he made up for it with honesty and insight. This kind of information might not have been groundbreaking, but it was practical—and practical knowledge kept people alive.

I gave him a nod. "Appreciate the chat."

The server grinned, pocketing his coin. "Anytime. Just don't go asking around about cultivators too much. Folk might think you're looking for trouble."

Noted.

I wandered through the festival streets, weaving between stalls and the chattering crowd. The scent of sizzling meat and spiced wine drifted through the air, mingling with the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer and the occasional burst of laughter.

I had spent the last hour repeating the same thing—asking around, gathering bits and pieces of information, and confirming what I already knew. But with each conversation, a nagging thought settled in the back of my mind.

What exactly did I want out of this life?

Survival was the obvious answer. I wasn't some protagonist hell-bent on reaching the peak of cultivation or carving my name into the annals of history. But survival alone felt... hollow. Even if I aimed to go home, that was still an uncertain goal. For all I knew, there was no way back.

So what did that leave me with?

I stepped aside as a group of children rushed past, waving toy swords and shouting about legendary heroes and demon kings. Their excitement was infectious, and for a brief moment, I saw a familiar reflection of my past self in them.

Hmmm… I suppose I should try a hand in PvE and role-playing in general.

Doing Paladin things.

Maybe that was enough.

I wasn't about to throw myself into some righteous crusade, but I could at least hold onto my values in this strange world. Play my role properly. If everything around me changed, then I would remain the same. A Paladin was meant to protect, to stand for something greater than themselves.

Yeah. That seemed like a fine goal to follow.

At the very least, I wasn't aimless.

"Master?"

I snapped out of my thoughts. Gu Jie had returned, standing beside me as if she had never left. If I hadn't already been growing accustomed to her quiet movements, I might have flinched.

I glanced at her. "Got the ticket?"

She nodded and held out a small, rectangular token, engraved with flowing characters. "For tomorrow's dueling event."

I took it, running my thumb over its surface. The craftsmanship was surprisingly refined, the edges smoothed and the engravings deep and clear. No doubt it was enchanted in some way to prevent counterfeiting.

Gu Jie studied my expression. "Is something troubling you, Master?"

I exhaled, pocketing the ticket. "Not really. Just thinking."

She hesitated, then spoke cautiously. "If I may ask… about what?"

I chuckled. "The meaning of life."

She blinked, then frowned, clearly not sure if I was being serious. "That is... a difficult topic."

"Yeah," I agreed, stretching my arms. "Figured I'd start small."

She gave me a strange look but didn't press further. Instead, she changed the subject. "Would you like to find a place to stay for the night? I have some recommendations."

Right. Lodging. That was another thing to take care of.

I nodded. "Lead the way."

As she guided me through the city, my thoughts drifted back to my earlier musings.

A Paladin, huh?

I could live with that.

011 Dinner Interruption

A meal at an expensive inn should have been a luxury, but instead, it felt dull.

I sat at a finely carved wooden table, absently twirling my chopsticks in a plate of fried noodles. Across from me, Gu Jie signaled a waitress and ordered a dish of greens. The lanterns overhead cast warm, flickering shadows, but even the cozy ambiance couldn't distract me from my thoughts.

I needed a way to gauge power levels.

In Lost Legends Online, it had been simple—every player had a Level Display floating above their heads. But here? Strength was veiled beneath layers of cultivation, hidden in the way one carried themselves, in the flow of their qi. I lacked the instincts to read such signs.

More than that, I needed a way to cultivate.

My Paladin abilities alone wouldn't be enough to survive. Yet, the risk was immense. There were cultivation methods specifically designed to turn people into mindless husks—tools for someone else's gain. What if the method I was practicing was designed for slaves or something? Gu Jie had suffered under such a technique once, trapped in servitude to a so-called master. I couldn't afford to step into the same snare.

Gu Jie interrupted my thoughts by sliding a ticket across the table. "Master, I got one for myself as well. I trust you don't mind?" She sounded cautious.

"It's fine," I said, setting it back down. "You'll be coming with me regardless. I could use a servant."

I half-expected a glare, maybe some reluctant defiance, but Gu Jie only smiled—genuinely, at that. She accepted orders too easily. A bad habit left from her past? Or something else? I let my Divine Sense brush over her, searching for any trace of deception, but all I sensed was quiet composure. Either she was an exceptional liar that just bested my Divine Sense, or she truly didn't mind.

The waitress returned, placing Gu Jie's dish in front of her with a polite nod before retreating. My so-called servant picked up her chopsticks and ate with measured, practiced grace. I sighed and turned back to my own meal.

I had considered infiltrating the Golden Sun Pavilion. If I wanted to learn about cultivation and power levels, it would be a prime place to start. But after some thought, I dismissed the idea.

Antagonizing a sect? A foolish move. Even the smallest sects had foundations built on blood and iron.

Antagonizing the City Governor? Worse. The man was an imperial prince, with wealth and influence beyond my means to challenge.

Antagonizing the Empire itself? I had no desire to court death.

I exhaled, pushing those thoughts aside and taking another bite of my noodles. Across from me, Gu Jie had taken it upon herself to fill the silence, recounting the latest happenings in the city.

"There was a duel between two First Realm cultivators earlier," she said between bites. "It escalated quickly, but a Second Realm stepped in and ended it with a single strike. The crowd was impressed."

I nodded. Expected.

"A lot of people are betting on tomorrow's elimination round. Wagers are flying."

I smirked. Gambling was inevitable wherever martial prowess was involved. A tournament meant opportunities—not just for fighters, but for those who knew how to profit from the chaos.

Tomorrow, I would have to decide—was I going to be a mere spectator, or would I carve my own place in this world?

"Anyone of note?" I asked.

Gu Jie shrugged. "The usual prodigies. No fresh talents worth mentioning."

I hummed, sipping my tea as she continued.

"There was an assassination recently," she added.

That caught my attention. I raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"A Young Master Zhao," she said, lowering her voice slightly. "Got himself drunk and picked a fight with Young Master Lu of the Lu Clan. The latter cut him down—at least, that's the story. But it was clearly a setup."

I frowned. "Describe him. The Zhao boy. Everyone already knows the Lu clan."

"Infamous for wasting his days in brothels," she scoffed. "Always surrounded by courtesans, flaunting his wealth like a fool. Wore black robes embroidered with golden dragons."

I froze. Slowly, my gaze flicked to Gu Jie's attire.

She blinked, puzzled at first. Then, realization dawned. Her eyes dropped to her own robes, and the blood drained from her face.

"...Oh."

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then, Gu Jie muttered a curse under her breath. "So that's why it was so cheap!"

I pressed my lips together, failing to suppress a laugh. In Lost Legends Online, no one would have cared about looting and wearing gear from the dead. Hell, some players would gladly equip female-exclusive armor on their male characters if the stats were good enough. But here? Here, it was practically an invitation to be hunted down.

Gu Jie hurriedly bowed her head. "Master, I—I didn't mean to put us in danger! I swear—"

I waved her off, still amused. "Just change before someone recognizes it."

"I—I will! Right now!" She abandoned her food, rising so fast her chair scraped against the floor, and rushed out.

I leaned back, finally letting out the chuckle I had been holding in. Fate was cruelly ironic sometimes.

I had been hoping for a quiet evening, a simple meal while discussing the power structure of the Riverfall Continent. Understanding the average cultivation levels here would be crucial for me to measure my place in this world.

But fate had other plans.

The entrance of the inn swung open, and a young man in green and blue robes strode inside, his steps exuding practiced arrogance. His chin was slightly raised, his posture exuding the casual disdain of someone accustomed to having his way. The symbol of a fist within a diamond was embroidered onto his chest.

His gaze swept the room before settling on the empty seat Gu Jie had just vacated.

"I recognize the wench," he declared, his voice laced with entitlement. "How much for her?"

I blinked.

...What?

Before I could respond, one of his lackeys stepped forward, puffing out his chest like a self-important rooster. "You stand before Young Master Kang Shi of the Seven Grand Clans!"

Another toady chimed in, his voice oozing sycophantic pride. "Young Master Kang Shi is a once-in-a-generation genius! He has already reached the Ninth Star of the Martial Tempering Realm before even turning twenty!"

Ah. Not just a rich brat, but a rich brat with actual ability.

The first lackey continued, undeterred by my silence. "The Kang Clan is renowned for their unparalleled close-combat techniques! Young Master Kang, shall we teach this insolent fool some manners?"

At his signal, several men moved to encircle my table. The air in the inn grew tense. Waiters and serving girls scrambled behind the counter. Patrons abandoned their meals and fled, wanting no part in whatever was about to unfold.

I exhaled slowly.

First, a Young Master yesterday. Now, another one today?

Fate was playing jokes at my expense.

I placed my chopsticks down with deliberate patience, hand still clutched on the chopsticks. "What do you want with Gu Jie?"

The crony practically barked at me. "How dare you lay your offending eyes upon the Young Master?!"

Kang Shi ignored his lackey's outburst, his gaze fixed on me with casual arrogance. "How much is she?" he repeated. "Word is, she sold herself into slavery. I intend to buy her from you." He smirked. "She possesses a bloodline ability—Sixth Sense Fateful Encounter. That alone makes her worth the price. I'll be generous and pay you at a mark-up."

I stared at him.

...Slave?

To say I was offended would be an understatement.

I was really living the xianxia life.

It had barely been two days since I arrived in this world, and already, I had checked off several tropes. First Young Master encounter? Check. Near-robbery? Check. Picking up a follower? Done. A run-in with a City Enforcer? Accomplished. Mysterious, unexplained memories surfacing? That too.

And now, my meal was being interrupted.

The situation soured my appetite. I hadn't even realized I was gripping my chopsticks too tightly until they snapped in half. The sharp crack echoed in the now-silent restaurant.

Kang Shi's smirk faltered, his gaze sharpening. He straightened, his posture shifting as he roused his qi. Though I couldn't see it, my Perception stat was high enough to catch the subtle disturbance in the air—the faintest ripple, like a still pond stirred by an unseen force. His lackeys immediately tensed, poised for violence.

I took a slow breath, my mind sharpening as I ran through the situation from every angle.

Fact 1: Kang Shi came here looking for a fight. An exchange of blows was inevitable. How do I control the damage?

Fact 2: His men claimed he had reached the Ninth Star of Martial Tempering, the peak of the First Realm. According to Gu Jie, cultivators only learned Qi Sense at the Second Realm. That meant none of them could actually detect whether I had qi or not.

Fact 3: Kang Shi relied on his family name to intimidate others. If he knew I was an ordinary mortal, he wouldn't waste time posturing—he'd go straight for Gu Jie instead.

Conclusion? Kang Shi was acting on his own. His clan likely had no idea he was here, throwing his weight around. And if he had a stronger bodyguard lurking nearby, they were keeping their distance, letting him handle this himself.

That meant I had room to maneuver.

Violence was unavoidable—but I could dictate how it unfolded. If I played this right, I wouldn't have to worry about an angry ancestor crawling out of some hidden chamber to avenge his great-grandson.

Taking a deep breath, I stood from my seat, my expression turning grave. I tapped into every xianxia novel I had ever read, letting the weight of imagined wisdom settle over my stance.

Then, I raised three fingers.

"Three moves," I said, my voice steady and measured.

Kang Shi's brows furrowed.

"Strike me in three moves," I continued. "If you succeed in making me step aside even once—Gu Jie is yours."

The restaurant fell deathly silent.

Kang Shi's eyes gleamed with excitement, arrogance swelling like a tide. His lips curled into a smirk. His lackeys exchanged knowing glances, already convinced of the outcome.

It was exactly the kind of challenge a Young Master wouldn't be able to resist.

012 Three Moves

Kang Shi stood before me, radiating arrogance.

His long, dark hair was tied loosely behind him, and his sharp, greedy eyes sized up the world as if it already belonged to him. His features were chiseled, his posture aggressive—he carried himself like someone who had never known defeat, who believed his place above others was ordained by fate.

The smirk on his lips widened.

"Three moves?" Kang Shi scoffed, amusement flashing across his face. "Fine! I shall indulge your delusion. You will regret your arrogance soon enough."

One of his cronies—a rat-faced sycophant—sneered at me. "The Kang Clan's martial cultivation is unparalleled! Fool, you would do well to surrender now and spare yourself the humiliation."

I tilted my head slightly. "I have a name, you know." Then I shrugged. "But enough talk. Show me what you can do."

I wasn't concerned.

As a maxed-level Paladin, my Constitution was near-unbreakable. Yet, to my quiet amusement, it wasn't even my greatest strength. Constitution was merely second.

What was my highest stat? Charisma.

In Lost Legends Online, Charisma wasn't just about charm—it governed persuasion, willpower, and the force of one's presence. For a Paladin, it dictated spellcasting, divine authority, and the weight of one's words. And I had pushed it beyond its natural limits, using cap-breaking artifacts to elevate it to absurd levels.

But my 'Immortal Build'? That was the true masterpiece.

It was a fusion of two extreme playstyles:

Heal/Drain Build – Endless regeneration and life-steal, making me all but unkillable.

Stagger/Barrier Build – Defensive buffs and stagger effects, ensuring I would never fall.

With my combat passives reinforcing my offense, I was an indomitable force of endurance and power. Of course, I doubted whether I was truly that indomitable… since this was xianxia… but still, there was a reason I could act so confident.

So as Kang Shi prepared to strike, I stood at ease, hands clasped lightly behind my back. My voice carried the weight of one who had walked through battlefields and emerged untouched.

"Glorious Defense."

There was no need to mutter the name of the skill.

It was simply for show.

Glorious Defense was a passive ability, strengthening my defenses in proportion to the feats I had achieved. Simply put, the number of main quest completed. And I had completed every main quest in LLO. It was a rite of passage for veteran players after all.

Tough was an understatement.

But for the sake of spectacle, I added another layer.

"Shield of Faith."

A translucent barrier shimmered into existence around me, its silver sheen casting a faint glow.

Kang Shi and his lackeys hesitated for a heartbeat. Then, his smirk returned.

"Let's see if that faith of yours can withstand my fist."

I remained unmoved. Hands still clasped behind my back, I inclined my head slightly.

"Come."

Kang Shi's grin sharpened. Lowering his stance, he coiled his energy, and his aura ignited in a blood-red hue.

"Fighting Spirit!"

Heat rippled through the air. Fire curled from Kang Shi's lips as he exhaled, his entire body surging with violent energy. With a flick of his wrist, his clenched fist shifted into a knife-hand strike aimed directly at my throat.

"Soaring Phoenix!"

A fiery phoenix silhouette flared around his right hand, its blazing form twisting and coiling as he lunged.

It was a move meant to dazzle—designed to overwhelm opponents with speed, spectacle, and sheer aggression. For a fleeting instant, instinct screamed at me. A lesser man would have flinched.

But then—

Clink.

His strike stopped cold against my Shield of Faith.

Kang Shi's smirk vanished, his expression twisting into sheer disbelief. His trembling fingers hovered mere inches from my throat, unable to push through the barrier. Then, realization struck, followed swiftly by anger.

With a snarl, he pulled back and shifted stances.

"Fighting Spirit: Rising Dragon!"

Golden energy coiled around his leg like a soaring dragon as he launched into a vicious roundhouse kick. This was faster, sharper—an attack meant to shatter bones, a technique honed through years of cultivation. The force of his spin sent the air whistling.

But—

Clink.

His foot stopped short, hovering just before my face.

Not even close.

Kang Shi froze. His entire body tensed as the truth settled in. He couldn't break through.

Panic flickered in his eyes.

With a sharp breath, he leapt back, his retreat far less composed than he intended. He nearly stumbled before regaining his footing.

I remained where I was.

Unmoved.

"That's two moves already," I said, my voice steady, as if we weren't even fighting. I met his gaze and slowly lifted three fingers before folding two of them, resisting the urge to leave the middle one up.

In the end, I left only my index finger raised and waved it lazily in the air.

"One more move, Young Master Kang."

Kang Shi's fists clenched, frustration and humiliation warring on his face. Then, something shifted.

His anger tempered into resolve.

"I have shamed my clan with such a lackluster performance," he muttered, his voice taut with emotion. "But do not mistake this for the limits of my Kang Clan's Fighting Spirit!"

His eyes burned with renewed determination as they locked onto me.

"What is your name, unknown cultivator?"

I exhaled through my nose. "I'd rather not say."

A small smirk curled Kang Shi's lips, though his gaze remained sharp. "I see… so you refuse to offer respect until the very end." He shook his head. "It is my failing for not recognizing Mount Tai. But hear me—by the end of this, I will have your respect, your name, and, if necessary… your head!"

He straightened, pressing his fists together before slowly drawing them apart. His qi surged, heavier, fiercer than before.

"No more underestimation. Now—prepare yourself."

Huh. He wasn't as overbearing as I first thought.

I resisted the urge to yawn.

For a brief moment, I considered using a defensive reflection technique—just to be a little shit and let him punch himself into oblivion. But no… Better not to spill any blood. Another reason why I raised Shield of Faith in the first place was so that Kang Shi wouldn't accidentally hurt himself from my innate reflect passive.

"Show me what you've got," I said, lazily gesturing him forward.

Kang Shi dropped into a deep squat stance, arms spread wide, fists clenched. His muscles coiled like steel cables, his qi surging erratically.

"I shall pour my vital qi—my very life force—into this final strike!"

Wait. Vital qi?

Did he just say life force?

This guy was insane.

No… not insane. Young. Barely twenty, still brimming with reckless ambition.

Before I could stop him, he continued, his voice thick with conviction.

"This technique—I devised it to counter Lu Gao and surpass him! But you… you will serve as my test instead!"

Oh, come on. I was just trying to eat dinner.

Kang Shi took a sharp breath, then snapped his fists open, spreading his fingers like ox horns.

"Fighting Spirit: Trampling Ox!"

The floor shattered beneath his feet as he surged forward like a human battering ram. His hands elongated into the shape of horns, his entire body transforming into a projectile. The sheer force of his charge ripped up the floorboards, sending shards of wood flying in every direction.

Boom!

His full-body tackle slammed into my Shield of Faith, unleashing a shockwave that rocked the entire inn.

Great. Now I had to compensate the innkeeper.

…Or maybe I could just make Kang Shi pay for it.

A moment passed.

Then another.

I stood exactly where I had been. Unmoved.

Kang Shi stared at his hands, his expression crumbling from disbelief to sheer horror.

"How?!" he choked out.

His palms—carrying the weight of his strength, his qi, even his vital energy—hovered mere inches from my skin.

He had given everything.

And it still wasn't enough.

Kang Shi stumbled back, his fists clenching, his breath ragged. And yet, rather than fear, I saw something else in his eyes.

Determination.

"I understand now," he murmured, voice hoarse but firm. "You are of a higher realm than me."

Finally. Took him long enough to figure that out.

"But I cannot let this stand."

…What now?

Please don't tell me you're about to call your father. That would be such a shame, considering how hard I worked not to kill you.

Kang Shi straightened his back, drawing in a deep breath. His qi steadied, his posture exuding renewed resolve.

"You have received three of my strikes! Now, I shall receive three of yours!"

I blinked.

What?

His followers exchanged uneasy glances, shifting uncomfortably between their Young Master and me. Their loyalty was visibly wavering.

Kang Shi stamped his foot, his voice booming like some righteous war hero.

"I will not move! Strike me three times, and I shall not budge!"

Was this guy an idiot?!

I opened my mouth, trying to talk some sense into him.

"There's no need. You've already acknowledged my higher realm—"

"I REFUSE!"

Huh?

I turned to Kang Shi's lackeys, half-expecting them to talk some sense into him.

But the moment my gaze swept over them, they flinched and quickly averted their eyes.

Come on, guys. Dissuade your Young Master.

Sheesh. They were clearly torn—questioning Kang Shi's decision might be seen as disloyalty, but if I got serious, I could probably kill him.

I sighed.

Even if I held back, my strike would still hurt. Too much restraint, and Kang Shi would scorn me. But anything beyond that risked shattering his bones—or worse.

And that ran contrary to my goal. Not spilling blood.

I made up my mind.

"How about this?" I proposed. "One move—just one. But I get to use a weapon."

Kang Shi's eyebrows twitched upward.

"Hmph. I am a generous man, and I acknowledge your strength. Fine! I grant you permission to wield a weapon."

I was tempted—oh, so tempted—to just cast Divine Word: Rest and knock him out on the spot.

No way he had the resistance for that.

But no. He'd call it a cheap trick. Kang Shi looked like the type to take offense at anything that wasn't brute force.

So instead, I inclined my head slightly.

"I thank you for your generosity."

Then, without hesitation, I reached for the table beside me—

And ripped off one of its legs.

Crack!

Silence.

Kang Shi's lackeys stared, dumbfounded.

Even the innkeeper, peeking from behind the counter, looked like he wanted to protest—then wisely kept his mouth shut.

I didn't bother drawing a real weapon from my Item Box. Too risky. If I used any of my enchanted weapons, I might accidentally turn Kang Shi into a smear on the floor.

No. This was fine.

I took a slow, deliberate step forward.

Then another.

The wooden planks groaned beneath my weight as I advanced, gripping the broken table leg in one hand.

The tension in the room thickened.

Kang Shi's lackeys gulped. The inn workers shrank back.

Stopping a few feet before Kang Shi, I raised the wooden leg and exhaled.

I needed something flashy. Something overwhelming. Something that felt dangerous… but wouldn't actually kill him.

And so, in a calm and measured voice, I invoked:

"Thunderous Smite."

The moment my weapon struck the floor—

BOOM!

A blinding explosion of silver-white radiance erupted from the impact.

The entire inn shook as light engulfed the room, flooding every corner with holy brilliance.

People screamed, shielding their eyes.

Kang Shi flinched, momentarily stunned by the sheer force of the display.

And in that moment of distraction—

I cast Divine Word: Rest.

Silent. Instant. Unstoppable.

Kang Shi swayed—his body trembling—

And then, he crumpled to the floor.

Unconscious.

To everyone watching, it would seem as if he had simply collapsed under the sheer weight of my martial prowess.

The light faded.

Kang Shi's lackeys blinked, rubbing their eyes as they struggled to process what had just happened.

Then, one of them whispered, hesitant—

"…Young Master Kang?"

Another took a cautious step forward—then froze in terror.

"H-He's down!"

I dropped the broken table leg. The top was completely charred, still sizzling from the remnants of my attack.

Then, before panic could set in, I spoke.

"Take him away."

The lackeys stiffened, standing at full attention.

"And," I continued, voice calm but firm, "tell him not to bother my follower, Gu Jie, ever again."

My words hung in the air, heavy with finality.

Then, after a moment of consideration, I gestured at the ruined floorboards.

"And make sure he compensates the innkeeper."

I turned on my heel—

And without another word, walked out of the inn, leaving Kang Shi's men to scramble over their defeated Young Master.

"Oh man, I just wasted another Ultimate Skill just this week alone… It's too expensive for my liking…"

013 Second Day

The second day of the festival was livelier than the first.

The streets teemed with even more people, and the tournament venue was packed to the brim. A towering archway marked the entrance, with two long queues stretching before it.

Gu Jie stood just ahead of me, arms crossed, surveying the scene with an indifferent gaze. Gone was the ill-fated robe from last night—today, she wore a black robe embroidered with crimson serpents, its fabric flowing like shadows under the morning light. Though the crowd buzzed with anticipation, she remained composed, tilting her head only occasionally at something of note.

Then, just a step ahead of us, a commotion broke out.

A man brazenly attempted to cut the line, shoving himself between two others without a hint of subtlety. He carried himself with arrogance, as if mere presence warranted obedience.

A hand seized his collar.

"You dare cut in line?"

The offender scoffed. "Do you not recognize me? I am Zhao Feng of the—"

He never finished his sentence.

A dull thud echoed through the air as his body struck the ground.

A burly enforcer stood over him, his strike too swift for most to catch. Though Zhao Feng was clearly a Martial-Tempering Realm cultivator, he hadn't even put up a resistance.

The enforcer dusted off his hands and motioned to the guards. "Take him away."

Zhao Feng groaned, clutching his ribs as he was dragged off. No one spared him a second glance.

I exhaled through my nose. Yellow Dragon City truly had no patience for nonsense.

When our turn came, Gu Jie stepped forward, producing our entry tickets. Her posture was straight, her tone calm. "We are here to spectate today's matches."

The middle-aged attendant scrutinized the tickets, then gave us a once-over before signaling a nearby guard.

"The rules," the guard said, his eyes sweeping over us—lingering on Gu Jie longer than necessary. "No stepping onto the tournament grounds. No disturbing the mortals. Do not approach the honored guests from the great sects unless spoken to first."

The weight behind that last rule was clear. They wanted no troublemakers pestering the sect elites.

Gu Jie merely nodded. "Understood."

The guard grunted but finally stepped aside.

Once inside, she loosened her stance and gestured ahead. "The City Governor's estate is just beyond. The tournament is held in his personal arena, so security will only grow stricter from here."

"What should I know about him?" I asked. "I mean, the City Governor."

She hummed in thought before replying, "Lord Ren has ruled Yellow Dragon City for over four decades. He was not born here—he was appointed by the empire to oversee the region. Though strict, he is fair, and under his rule, the city has prospered."

I nodded, taking in the sprawling inner city.

Yellow Dragon City was a fusion of ancient elegance and thriving prosperity. Sturdy buildings with sweeping, curved rooftops stretched across the landscape, seamlessly blending with the rivers and waterfalls that wove through the city like veins of jade. Beyond them, the governor's estate stood in quiet grandeur, and just behind it, the tournament arena loomed, its towering stone walls visible even from a distance.

Gu Jie continued, her tone slipping into something almost instructional. "Yellow Dragon City was once a minor settlement, no different from countless others. But over time, it became a major trade hub. The Lu Clan's roads connected it to the rest of the continent, and now, merchants, warriors, and travelers flock here. This tournament is among the grandest annual events—it draws people from every corner of the land."

I listened as we walked, letting her words weave a clearer image of the city's history.

Despite the trouble I had already encountered, I had to admit—this world had its charm.

I had never been to China, only seen glimpses of it in pictures. But magical China? That was something else entirely.

The scale of the event was staggering. Thousands had gathered for this spectacle, a testament to its importance. In a world lacking modern distractions, this was one of the rare occasions when common folk could witness true grandeur. The wealth poured into the festival was evident in the sheer extravagance of the decorations, the finely crafted banners, and the towering arena that awaited us.

Gu Jie and I followed the crowd into the coliseum, where attendants guided us toward the seating area. To my surprise, it did not pale in comparison to the stadiums of my past life. The arena itself was a vast, elevated platform of polished stone, its surface refined and solid. The bleachers stretched in a grand semicircle around the battlefield, rising like a tide to embrace the spectacle.

At the far end of the manor, an opulent viewing box loomed over the arena. There, the City Governor and the honored guests reclined in luxury, their figures visible even from this distance. Draped in silk and brocade, they observed the gathering below with unreadable expressions, their mere presence a reminder of the power they wielded.

Beside me, Gu Jie remarked casually, "The seating is reinforced with Earth Qi."

I raised a brow. "And that means…?"

"The stone here has been tempered through special techniques. Unlike mundane construction, Earth Qi refinement strengthens the material, making it near-impervious to damage. A normal arena would crack and crumble after a few heated battles. This one will endure the entire tournament without a single mark. Well, that's what they say at least…"

That explained why the architecture of this world remained so pristine despite the absence of modern construction methods. Even the buildings were shaped by cultivation.

Since the matches had yet to begin, I decided to ask Gu Jie about something that had been bothering me.

"So… about that bloodline ability." I leaned in slightly. "Sixth Sense Fateful Encounter. What do you know about it?"

Gu Jie stiffened, her expression darkening.

Ah, right. She hadn't been there last night when a certain Young Master Kang nearly purchased her like some rare trinket.

She exhaled sharply. "That name is wrong."

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"The real name of the ability… is Sixth Sense Misfortune."

I blinked. "What?"

Gu Jie sighed and rubbed her temples. "The name was deliberately altered. 'Fateful Encounter' makes it sound like a blessing, a divine gift. But in truth, it is nothing of the sort—it is a curse."

I narrowed my eyes. "Explain."

She hesitated, glancing around as if wary of eavesdroppers. Finally, she sighed and leaned closer.

"There are those born with peculiar abilities," she said. "Some bloodlines grant unparalleled strength. Others awaken supernatural talents. Mine? Sixth Sense Misfortune grants me the ability to instinctively perceive impending disaster before it strikes."

I frowned. "That doesn't sound too bad."

She shook her head. "That's because you don't understand the price."

I gestured for her to continue.

She took a deep breath. "This ability does not merely grant foresight—it demands balance. If I avoid one calamity, another will inevitably take its place. The misfortune I escape does not vanish. It merely waits, seeking another moment to strike. Simply put, I accrue misfortune in the future in exchange of avoiding one in reality…"

I stared at her. "Wait… so dodging disaster just guarantees another down the line?"

Gu Jie nodded grimly.

"That's idiotic," I muttered.

She let out a dry chuckle. "Tell me about it."

I recalled the matter of the 'discounted' robes and the ill-fated Young Master Zhao, who had supposedly perished some time ago. "…So that's how you ended up with the Zhao clan's clothes?"

Gu Jie groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Yes. That was one of them."

I couldn't help but chuckle. An ability like that was both fascinating and absurd. But it also made me think—if I kept her around, wouldn't that misfortune eventually spread to me?

Before I could voice my concerns, Gu Jie seemed to read my expression and panicked.

"I—I'm still useful, though!" she blurted out. "Sometimes—rarely—but sometimes my accumulated misfortune transforms into luck! It's unpredictable, but when it happens, the results can be… beneficial!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

She nodded furiously. "Yes! There have been times when I stumbled upon lost treasures, overheard critical information, or found myself in the right place at the right time—completely by accident!"

"Huh." That was… oddly compelling.

Perhaps keeping her around wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.

A proper Paladin wouldn't turn someone away just because of bad luck.

Not that I was particularly proper. Or much of a Paladin, for that matter. But still.

Just as Gu Jie began to fidget under my silence, a food vendor passed by. I waved the man down and turned to her. "Go get us some meat buns."

Gu Jie perked up like a puppy given a task. "Right away!"

She practically bounced toward the vendor and returned moments later—carrying an entire basket.

I stared. "Why so happy? You just spent my money."

She coughed, looking away. "It's an investment in my continued employment."

I rolled my eyes but let it slide.

As we ate, the arena grew livelier. Attendants moved through the bleachers, carrying ballots and calling out to the crowd.

"Place your bets! Predict the Final Eight of the Elimination Round!"

"The betting window closes when the round begins! Make your wagers now!"

The crowd buzzed with excitement as people scrawled names onto slips of paper and handed over gold and spirit stones. Apparently, gambling wasn't just a vice back home—it thrived in Yellow Dragon City as well.

Before I could entertain the idea of placing a bet myself, a shadow loomed over the arena.

A figure descended from the sky, riding the wind atop a gleaming sword.

Enforcer Liang Na.

The moment her feet touched the ground, she cast a sharp gaze over the bleachers and declared, "The Elimination Round for the Yellow Dragon Champion's Strongest Eight shall now begin!"

Her voice carried effortlessly across the stadium, and the audience erupted into cheers.

She turned to the VIP box, high above the arena, and clasped her hands behind her back in a formal bow. "To our esteemed guests, I hope you enjoy the spectacle."

With that, she drew a horn from her waist and blew into it. A deep, reverberating note rolled through the air, silencing the crowd in an instant.

Then, from the far end of the arena, the great gates swung open.

Hundreds of cultivators strode forward in disciplined rows.

They marched onto the battleground in ceremonial fashion, each exuding an air of confidence—some even arrogance. Their robes bore intricate insignias, marking their sects, clans, or personal crests.

As they assembled, Liang Na's voice took on a grand, theatrical cadence.

"Behold! The finest warriors from across the Riverfall Continent! The 221 cultivators before you stand at the peak of their generation, each vying for the coveted title of Yellow Dragon Champion!"

She gestured toward the combatants. "Each of them is a master in their own right. They have trained for years—some even decades—to stand here today! Yet… only eight will survive the Elimination Round."

The audience roared in approval. I found myself leaning forward, intrigued.

Gu Jie nudged me. "Excited?"

I took a bite of my meat bun, chewing thoughtfully. "Maybe. Let's see if these guys are any good." Honestly, I was almost tempted to join… It would have been worth he nostalgia at least.

014 Willpower

From what I had gathered, the participants had to be under fifty years old. Not that it mattered to me—I had no way of gauging anyone's true strength beyond what my eyes could perceive, and even that had its limits.

I sighed, watching as the gambling attendants made their final rounds.

"The betting period has officially closed!" one of them announced, waving a scroll above his head.

A pity. I hadn't even placed a bet.

Not that it would have made a difference. Without Qi Sense, I was like a blind man among tigers, unable to discern who stood at the peak and who was merely posturing. I could assess body language, movement efficiency, and surface-level martial techniques, but none of that revealed the depths of a cultivator's strength. In this world, power was not just skill—it was Qi. And that was beyond my perception.

With over two hundred contestants, even relying on sheer intelligence stat wouldn't be enough.

Shaking off the thought, I turned my focus back to the arena.

Liang Na stepped forward once more, raising a hand for silence.

"Honored guests, esteemed cultivators, and citizens of Yellow Dragon City," she declared, her voice carrying across the vast space. "Before the trial begins, let us first hear from our sovereign—Lord Ren Jin."

A hush fell over the crowd.

In the VIP box, a figure moved.

Dressed in elegant yet restrained robes embroidered with golden dragon scales, he carried himself with the ease of one accustomed to command. There was no need for ornamentation; his presence alone was enough.

Ren Jin. The sovereign of Yellow Dragon City.

He looked young—perhaps my age. That gave me pause. He was the ruler of this place?

Then he spoke.

His voice was calm, yet it resonated through the arena, carried as if by the wind itself.

"My people," he began, his gaze sweeping over the gathered crowd, "this past decade has been one of trials and perseverance."

Silence fell as all listened.

"We have endured hardship, yet we have emerged stronger. We have weathered storms, yet we have not fallen. Through it all, Yellow Dragon City stands unyielding."

Murmurs rippled through the audience—some nodding in agreement, others listening with rapt attention.

A faint smile touched Ren Jin's lips. "Today, we gather not only to witness a contest but to honor those who dare to rise above. The cultivators before you are the future. Strength shall determine the worthy, and from them, new legends will be born."

He raised a hand, his voice ringing with finality.

"Let the Tournament of Yellow Dragon's Heroes… begin!"

Thunderous applause erupted, shaking the arena.

The moment Lord Ren gave the signal, the battlefield erupted into motion.

Qi flared like invisible flames, distorting the air in waves. Though I couldn't sense it directly, my heightened perception registered the shift—like standing in the heart of a storm, surrounded by unseen forces.

"Huh," I muttered. "So this is what it looks like when a group of cultivators gets serious."

"This?" Beside me, Gu Jie scoffed. "This is nothing. Just a bunch of posturing before the real battle begins. Master, just so you know… I've seen worse."

"Chill, it's not a competition." That caught my attention. "Speaking of which, you were at a higher realm before, right? Any idea what realm that Enforcer and City Governor are at?"

Gu Jie perked up, eager to prove herself useful. "Well, I don't have the senses of a Second Realm cultivator anymore, but I still have my experience," she said, rubbing her chin. "For the Chief Enforcer to project her voice with such clarity, she should be at least Third Realm."

Chief Enforcer?

It seemed Liang Na was a bigger figure than I had assumed. I glanced back at the arena, taking another look at the woman standing proudly at the battlefield's center.

As if in response to my thoughts, Liang Na exhaled and released a controlled pulse of energy.

"I am at the Will-Reinforcement Realm!" Her voice rang through the arena, carrying the weight of authority. "Chief Enforcer of the Yellow Dragon Armed Forces, Liang Na! In the name of my liege, I shall conduct this Elimination Round thoroughly and fairly, for the sake of honest competition!"

Gu Jie smirked. "See? Told you."

I chuckled. "Alright, you got one right. What about Lord Ren?"

Gu Jie's expression turned contemplative. "That one's harder to guess. The way he projected his voice, the way his presence filled the entire arena… That level of control isn't something a Third Realm cultivator can pull off casually." She shook her head. "He's definitely stronger. At least Fourth Realm, maybe higher."

I hummed in thought, shifting my attention back to Liang Na.

She stood at the center of the arena, radiating authority. My Perception stat wasn't my strongest, but compared to an ordinary person, it was nothing short of supernatural. And right now, it was letting me see something most others couldn't.

A thin layer of energy coated Liang Na's entire body, shimmering faintly with every movement. It pulsed in rhythm with her breath—subtle, but undeniable.

Interesting.

If I focused closely enough, I could kind of distinguish cultivation realms, even without Qi Sense.

That was good to know.

The moment Liang Na fully released her aura, the atmosphere shifted.

A crushing presence descended upon the arena like a storm cloud. The sheer weight of it sent ripples through the battlefield—cultivators staggered, their knees trembling under the invisible pressure. Some struggled to remain standing. Others weren't as fortunate. One by one, participants crumpled to the ground, their bodies collapsing like puppets with cut strings.

Liang Na's voice rang across the battlefield.

"I SHALL NOW BEGIN!"

Her words carried power—not just through sound, but through sheer intent. A heavier wave of Killing Intent surged forth, wrapping around the remaining cultivators like an unseen noose, tightening with every breath.

I frowned. That's kinda overpowered.

This was just the Third Realm?

Beside me, Gu Jie shuddered, her face slightly pale.

"This is the gap between realms," she murmured, hugging herself. "What she's doing isn't just unleashing Qi—she's manifesting her Willpower into the world. More specifically… her Killing Intent."

I raised an eyebrow. "She's scaring them unconscious?"

Gu Jie nodded. "It's like a blizzard of raw pressure. The stronger your will, the better you can withstand it. But for those beneath her level, it's unbearable. Their minds collapse before their bodies do."

I glanced at the arena.

The few still standing were visibly struggling, their fists clenched, their foreheads drenched in sweat. Some swayed, knees trembling, but refused to fall.

"And what about normal people?" I asked.

Gu Jie exhaled. "They wouldn't feel a thing."

I blinked. "Wait, really?"

She nodded. "Killing Intent is a weapon meant to suppress cultivators. Mortals don't have the same battle instincts, so they don't even register it. That's why nobles and merchants can sit through these fights without fainting in their seats." A smirk tugged at her lips.

So suppression abilities scale based on the target's cultivation...

That was useful to know.

But more importantly, this meant Liang Na wasn't just strong—she had complete mastery over her will. To wield such pressure with precision, without harming bystanders, spoke volumes about her control.

This tournament was proving more interesting by the second.

One by one, the weaker cultivators collapsed, their bodies crumpling like puppets with severed strings. The arena floor became a graveyard of unconscious contestants, scattered like marbles. In mere moments, the battlefield had thinned.

Now, only those with unshakable wills remained.

I leaned forward, watching closely.

Some of them trembled but stayed upright through sheer determination. Others stood firm, unyielding, their gazes burning with defiance.

Interesting.

The true contenders had revealed themselves. Out of hundreds, only ten remained standing.

I turned to Gu Jie. "Has anyone ever died from this before?"

She shook her head. "None that I know of, Master. Theoretically, it should be impossible. Would you die just because someone imagined you dying?"

Her analogy was oddly fitting.

I nodded. "Fair point."

Before I could ask more, Liang Na's voice rang out once again, clear and resolute.

"I will now increase the pressure."

The words weren't just for the contestants—they were a declaration to the entire audience, nobles and commoners alike.

A show of strength.

A heartbeat later, her aura surged.

The air thickened, turning razor-sharp. The weight of her Killing Intent grew heavier—like an invisible guillotine pressing down, daring the remaining cultivators to falter.

Yet the ten stood firm.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Even among the commoners and lesser cultivators, murmurs of astonishment spread like wildfire.

I merely watched, fascinated.

This wasn't just a test of cultivation.

It was a battle of will.

Gu Jie leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with recognition as she studied the cultivators who had withstood Liang Na's Killing Intent.

"Look at them," she whispered. "I recognize a few. The remaining contenders are from the Seven Grand Clans and the Three Great Sects of the Riverfall Continent. I don't know about the other guy though… but I might have heard his name."

I followed her gaze, scanning the arena.

One figure immediately stood out—Kang Shi of the Fighting Clan. He stood tall, his aura flaring with barely restrained aggression, as if eager for battle.

Gu Jie nudged me and gestured toward another contender. "That's Lu Gao of the Road Clan," she said, lowering her voice as if the name itself carried weight. "See the emblem on his sleeve? The endless road symbol. His clan believes in expansion and ambition above all else."

I'd heard that before.

This 'Lu Gao' was that famous, then?

Gu Jie seemed impressed, so I let her have her moment.

Lu Gao stood with his arms crossed, completely unbothered, as if Liang Na's pressure was nothing more than a passing breeze. His posture, his expression, everything about him radiated unshakable confidence—the kind of man who never considered losing an option.

Before I could examine the others, one of the ten contenders suddenly wobbled, his breath hitching—then collapsed. It was the cultivator Gu Jie identified as a member of the Seven Grand Clans.

"That's one down," Gu Jie sighed. "That's Xun De of the Seeker Clan. See the single character for Seek stitched onto his robe?"

I nodded.

"His clan prides itself on unearthing ancient knowledge and lost techniques," she continued. "But I suppose his will wasn't strong enough to stand with the rest."

Liang Na, unfazed by the loss, raised her voice once more.

"I will increase the pressure again!"

A fresh wave of Killing Intent surged forth.

The atmosphere grew heavier, oppressive. Yet—no one else fell. The nine remaining cultivators held firm, their postures resolute.

The crowd murmured in admiration.

Gu Jie, still unfazed, continued her commentary, pointing out three specific contestants. "See them? The ones with the cloud symbol, the sword character, and the isolation character?"

I nodded.

"They must be representatives from the Three Great Sects—the Cloud Mist Sect, the Sword Canopy Sect, and the Isolation Path Sect."

That made sense. Their presence alone spoke volumes about their sects' standing.

Then, without warning, Liang Na spread her hands open.

Above her, nine faint orbs of energy flickered into existence, hovering in a perfect formation.

Then, in an instant, they shot forward—each one targeting a different contestant.

The reaction was immediate.

The contenders moved—some dodging, others bracing for impact—but one, in particular, caught my attention.

Kang Shi.

The moment the orb struck him, it twisted and coiled—morphing into a spectral snake that latched onto his shoulder.

His body locked up. His limbs stiffened.

Then—he collapsed, his expression frozen in shock.

Gu Jie let out a sharp breath. "Did you see that?"

I did.

More clearly than I expected.

I turned to her. "What was that?"

Gu Jie frowned, deep in thought. "A martial spell, perhaps… or a Qi-manifested technique." Then, as if realizing she was being tested, she quickly added, "Qi manifestation is invisible to Martial-Tempering Realm cultivators like me. We're used to circulating Qi internally, not externalizing it like this."

I raised an eyebrow.

She hesitated. "...Was that right? Did I get it right, Master?"

I simply stared at her.

Gu Jie fidgeted under my gaze, clearly eager to prove herself.

After a long moment, I gave a slight nod. "Good to know."

She exhaled, looking relieved.

Yeah. This had been really educational.

The cheering grew louder as more of the orbs zoomed in the air.

Gu Jie added, "It seems a formation had been set up around the arena and the bleachers so that the mortal audience could see what happened… That way, those with lacking cultivation could still enjoy the spectacle."

015 Respectable Goldfish

The goldfish stall was quiet today. An old man lounged behind the counter, idly munching on a skewer of candied hawthorn, utterly oblivious to the storm about to descend upon him. The sight of him enjoying his snack, completely unbothered, only fueled my resolve.

I had witnessed something amusing earlier, so I was in a fine mood. But that didn't mean I would overlook the old man's past transgressions. No, today was the day of my triumphant return.

After sending Gu Jie on an errand to buy tickets for tomorrow's event, I headed straight to the stall.

I stopped in front of the goldfish tubs, arms crossed. Let's see if you dare mock me again, old man.

"Do you remember me?" I asked, my voice carrying the weight of a challenge.

The old man tilted his head slightly, chewing on his tanghulu before giving me a lazy glance.

"Oh? Who do we have here?" His lips curled into a knowing smirk. "It's the sucker!"

I twitched.

"I'll show you who's the sucker, old man."

45 Minutes Later...

I hadn't caught a single goldfish. Not one.

The old man, now fully reclined in his chair, let out a satisfied sigh as he finished the last of his tanghulu.

"Turns out," he said, watching my struggle with amusement, "the sucker was you."

I stared at my ruined paper scoop, torn apart by the water and my own desperation. My reflection in the tub looked like that of a man who had glimpsed true defeat.

"Ridiculous."

The old man stretched lazily. "Perhaps the real suckers were the friends we made along the way."

I gave him a blank stare. "Are you drunk?"

He simply chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Just mushrooms," he added. "And candied skewers."

I refused to concede. With unwavering determination, I slapped down another coin and picked up a fresh paper scoop.

Frustrating? Absolutely. But strangely enjoyable. In its own way, this was a rare moment of leisure—something I had never experienced as a child. It was a simple festival game, yet it carried an odd sense of fulfillment. I'd never played before, and the novelty alone made the loss worth it.

Besides, there was always next time.

The old man watched as I dipped the paper scoop into the water once more, my brows furrowed in concentration. The flimsy paper strained under the weight of the water as I carefully approached a sluggish goldfish near the edge. This time, for sure—

Rip.

The scoop tore apart like wet parchment.

"Damn it."

The old man snorted. "Kid, why don't you just buy a goldfish? They're only thirty coppers. You look like a rich young master—surely you can afford it."

I clicked my tongue, casting him a sideways glance. "It's not about the prize. It's about the journey."

I made a sweeping gesture, as if imparting great wisdom. "The satisfaction of earning it with my own skill."

In truth, I was talking nonsense. No way I'd admit that I was simply terrible at this game.

That, and it was good training. Even with my unnatural abilities, fine control required practice. And beyond that, it was fun. A piece of childhood I never had. If nothing else, I could afford to indulge in that, just for a little while longer.

The old man faked a cough, covering his mouth with his fist. "Heh. So, you're just stubborn."

I shot him a look. He met my gaze with a knowing smirk, as if he could see right through me. Honestly, this old man was too suspicious. If he weren't the only one running a goldfish stall here—and if this weren't the only arcade game I hadn't conquered—I wouldn't have bothered coming back.

I exhaled, forcing down my frustration. Steadying my breath, I dipped another paper scoop into the tub. This time, I ignored the bigger, faster goldfish and set my sights on the smallest, slowest one.

My scoop slid beneath its belly. Carefully, I lifted it, my breath hitching as the paper held. No way. No way. No way—

The goldfish wriggled, but I kept my grip steady. It remained on the scoop.

A second passed.

Then another.

And then—

"HAH~! HAHAHAHA~~!" I shot up from my seat, my victorious laughter booming across the empty stall. "SUCK IT, OLD MAN!"

The old man chuckled. "Took you long enough, sucker."

The moment of victory lasted exactly two seconds.

Because in my excitement, I moved too suddenly—too recklessly.

RIP.

The paper scoop tore apart.

The goldfish, my hard-earned prize, flopped back into the water with a tiny splash.

I stared.

"No. No. NOOOO~! FISHY!"

The old man clutched his stomach and howled with laughter. "HA! KEKEKE~! KAKAKAKA~! A sucker to the end!"

I turned to glare at him, my jaw clenched. This damn old man. If I didn't know better, I'd suspect he was some minor demon sent to test my patience.

Wordlessly, I slapped another set of coppers onto the counter and grabbed a fresh paper scoop. Alright. Focus. Breathe. One more time.

I calmed my heart like a fasting monk. No unnecessary movements. No sudden outbursts.

Slowly, I dipped the scoop into the water, eyes locked onto my target. I maneuvered beneath the smallest goldfish once more, lifting it with the delicate precision of a master alchemist refining a pill. The paper held. The goldfish wobbled, but I remained steady.

Three seconds passed. Then four. Good. No mistakes this time.

I gently transferred the fish into the old man's waiting hands. He hummed in amusement but, for once, didn't mock me. With practiced ease, he placed my hard-earned prize into a small glass bowl filled with water.

"There," he said, pushing the bowl toward me. "A goldfish, won fair and square."

I exhaled, finally allowing myself to relax. It was done. The demon had been slain.

"…Worth it."

I peered into the small glass bowl, watching my goldfish swim in slow, lazy circles. Victory tasted all the sweeter after suffering repeated, humiliating defeats.

Now, there was just one problem.

"So… what do I feed it?"

The old man shrugged. "I don't know."

I blinked. "What?"

"How would I know?"

"…You own the stall."

He scratched his chin, looking genuinely confused. "And?"

"What do you mean and? You literally sell goldfish! How do you not know what they eat?"

The old man considered my words for a moment, then nodded sagely.

"I don't know."

I stared at him.

This. This was the man I lost to.

"What kind of answer is that?" I demanded. "Shouldn't this be basic knowledge for you?"

The old man clicked his tongue. "You're askin' the wrong questions, kid."

I exhaled. "…Enlighten me, then."

He jabbed a finger at the goldfish. "It's a girl."

I squinted at him. "The hell? You can tell me that but not what she eats?"

The old man crossed his arms, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "That's right."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Fine. What can you tell me?"

"Just feed it meat so it grows strong. Pork, maybe?"

I nearly choked. "Pork?!"

"Yeah. Meat's good for growth. You want a strong fish, don't you?"

I looked at him. Then at the tiny, fragile creature swimming in my bowl.

"…Even I know how wrong that advice is."

The old man shrugged. "Hey, don't listen to me. I'm just a humble goldfish salesman."

I desperately wanted to ask how he even got this job, but I had a feeling I wouldn't like the answer.

"Maybe beef sounds better," he mused, rubbing his chin. "I don't know. I am craving beef."

"Not helping, old man."

I sighed and turned my attention back to the goldfish. She swam in slow, looping circles, her delicate fins fluttering like silk ribbons underwater. The golden-orange of her scales shimmered beneath the lantern light, accented by streaks of white along the tips of her tail. Her round, beady eyes carried the same innocence as a clueless baby animal.

How could something so small and simple look so damn happy?

I smiled to myself, then turned back to the old man. "Alright. Since you're so wise, how about making yourself useful and helping me name her?"

The old man raised a bushy brow. "Really? You're trusting me with that?"

"I don't mind. I'm terrible at names."

Without hesitation, the old man declared, "Ren Jingyi."

"Whoa~ that was fast."

"The character Ren for 'person,' and Jingyi for 'respectable.'"

"A respectable person, huh?" I chuckled. "Imagine—a goldfish being more respectable than an actual person."

I leaned closer, peering at the tiny creature in her bowl. "Do you like it, Ren Jingyi? Jingy'er? Little Goldie?"

She swam in another cheerful loop, her little fins flapping with delight.

I grinned, but after a moment, my excitement dimmed. As happy as she looked, the small glass bowl felt… lacking. If I was going to keep her, I needed to do it right.

"I should find a place that sells a bigger bowl," I muttered. "Maybe add some sand… a few greens… something to make it more interesting for her. Hmmm… How does a tower sound?"

The old man gave me a sideways glance before smirking. "What's this? Planning to build a palace for your little fish?"

"Of course," I said, nodding seriously. "She's Ren Jingyi, after all. A respectable fish deserves a respectable home."

016 Wind VS Chains

The third day of the festival.

For me, barely my fourth day in this world.

Gu Jie walked beside me, cradling Ren Jingyi's new home as if it were a sacred artifact. The fishbowl—a vessel large enough to fit a human head—was a fine purchase, complete with a wire attachment for carrying. If adjusted properly, I could even wear it like a bag.

I had spent good money on this.

Yet Gu Jie clutched it with both hands, her grip tight, knuckles white, as if she expected disaster at any moment. She had taken it upon herself as a trial. "Master, wait for me!"

Thus, our progress to the bleachers was slow.

I sighed. "Just let me carry—" I stopped. If I insisted, she would only become more obstinate. "You know what? Fine. From now on, she's your responsibility."

Gu Jie's eyes widened. "Y-Yes, Master! I will not fail you!"

I still had little idea what she wanted from me, but she was no hindrance. If anything, having her around had proven useful.

We found seats among the crowd, waiting for the next matches to begin.

Today, the remaining eight contenders would fight for a place in the quarter-finals. Excitement buzzed through the air as people filled the stands, placing bets and arguing over favorites.

While the rest of the audience busied themselves with speculation, I had time to kill.

Reaching into my Item Box, I retrieved a book.

Gu Jie had brought me a stack just this morning, with promises of more to come in the next two days. I had not asked where she was getting them, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

This particular book chronicled the history of Yellow Dragon City.

Apparently, this place used to be a wasteland.

I skimmed through passages detailing its past. Among all the continents under the Empire's rule, Riverfall had been the poorest. It explained why the Yellow Dragon Festival was treated like the grandest event of the year—entertainment was scarce, and the people had little else to look forward to. 

There was little mention of the other continents. The author, it seemed, had been a migrant from Deepmoor, another Imperial territory.

It was only my second book, but so far, it was worth the read.

Beside me, Gu Jie sat rigid, securing the fishbowl on her lap. Ren Jingyi swam in lazy circles, oblivious to the tension in the air.

After a moment, Gu Jie turned to me, looking somewhat troubled. "Apologies, Master. I was unable to obtain tickets for all four matches."

I glanced at her and shrugged. "That's understandable."

Tickets for watching the eight contenders' matches had been sold separately. In total, there would be four bouts today, but Gu Jie had only managed to secure tickets for two. Considering how fierce the competition for seats had been, that was already an achievement.

"So, who's competing?" I asked, flipping a page in my book, only half paying attention.

Gu Jie straightened, eager to report. "An Isolation Path disciple and Young Master Feng Yi of the Wind Clan."

I hummed in thought.

"Not much is known about the Isolation Path disciple," she continued. "The betting houses seem divided on the odds, so it may be a close match."

"Place your bets! Place your bets! Feed the ballot while you still can!"

A booming voice echoed through the arena as attendants wove through the bleachers, distributing slips of paper. I caught one as it was handed my way. Betting, huh? That could be interesting.

All around me, spectators eagerly scrawled names onto their ballots, slipping in coins before folding them shut. Each slip bore a trace of qi before being collected—some kind of tamper-proofing, no doubt. The system seemed far more sophisticated than the crude bookie operations of my past life.

Below, the fighters had already taken their places.

"Welcome, honored guests, to the first bout of the quarterfinals!" The Enforcer serving as referee raised his arms, rousing the crowd. "On my left, Young Master Feng Yi of the Wind Clan! Renowned for their unparalleled wind arts and swordsmanship!"

Feng Yi smirked, brandishing his blade with practiced ease. His movements were fluid, his sword flashing in the sunlight as he executed an elegant flourish. The crowd roared its approval.

"And on my right—Fan Shi of the Isolation Path Sect!" The Enforcer gestured to the opposite side. "Famed for their self-mastery and enigmatic techniques!"

Fan Shi stood motionless. No flair, no theatrics—just silence. Clad in dark, unadorned robes, she seemed to blend into the shadows, her presence so muted it was almost unsettling.

I scrawled a name onto my ballot, slipped in a few gold pieces, and folded the paper shut before passing it to an attendant.

With a practiced touch, he infused it with a faint trace of qi before moving on.

"Final call! The betting period is closing!" Another attendant called out.

I watched as my slip was dropped into the box labeled Feng Yi.

Why Feng Yi? Simple. I liked betting on the underdog. It wasn't about winning—it was about enjoying the game. And though I had a strong feeling Fan Shi was the stronger of the two, I stuck with my choice. If I was in it to win, I would have placed my bet on Fan Shi of course.

"The betting is now closed!"

The way they ran gambling here intrigued me.

"Hey, Jie," I said, turning to Gu Jie, who was still cradling Ren Jingyi's fishbowl with careful reverence.

"Yes, Master?" she replied, momentarily shifting her attention from the goldfish.

"This is my first time betting. How do they verify the winners?"

Gu Jie straightened, taking the question seriously. "The attendants inscribe your wager onto the slip. Then, the qi they use to mark it stores identifying details—your eyes, hair, height, even the color of your skin. It records finer distinctions too—freckles, scars, birthmarks. When you claim your winnings, they compare the stored qi imprint to your actual appearance. If they match, you receive your payout. Simple and foolproof."

Huh. So qi could store and transmit information at such a refined level.

I had always known qi could be used for combat, healing, and body reinforcement, but this… this was different. The implications intrigued me. If qi could serve as a medium for encoding details, could it be harnessed to record even more complex information? Messages? Techniques? Memories?

The thought was tempting. I almost wanted to experiment with my own mana to see if it possessed similar properties, but now was neither the time nor the place.

For now, I had a match to watch… and a bet I was probably about to lose.

Fan Shi stood at one end of the arena, a vision of chilling beauty. The kind of jade-like elegance that poets immortalized in verse—skin pale as untouched snow, sharp and unreadable features, dark eyes carrying an abyssal stillness.

Yet beneath that serene exterior, she coiled, like a viper lying in wait.

Chains slithered from her sleeves, dark and polished, winding like living serpents, their movements betraying a silent hunger. Even from my seat, I could feel it—the promise of violence. A suffocating pressure that prickled against my skin, whispering danger.

"Interesting…"

Across from her, Feng Yi crouched low, his stance steady, his movements practiced. His white and blue robes fluttered as the wind stirred in response, forming invisible currents around him, as if awaiting his command. He wielded his sword in a reverse grip, the blade gleaming under the sunlight. Confidence, not arrogance, settled in his gaze.

"Seriously? Reversed grip?"

The moment stretched, taut with anticipation.

Then, in a display of martial decorum, Fan Shi cupped her hand and performed a martial artist's bow—measured, deliberate, unreadable.

Seeing this, Feng Yi returned the gesture, raising his free hand in respect before sinking back into his stance.

The Enforcer overseeing the match stepped forward, his voice carrying across the arena.

"Out of bounds results in defeat! Surrender is permitted! Victory is determined by first blood, incapacitation for three breaths, or rendering one's opponent unable to continue!" His sharp gaze flickered between the two. "Contenders! Are you ready?!"

Fan Shi flicked her wrists. Her chains slithered up her arms, coiling around them like armored gauntlets. The sound—clink, clink, clink—rang ominously through the arena.

Across from her, Feng Yi shifted, his stance lowering, his grip adjusting. No more flourishes. No more display. Only focus.

The Enforcer raised his hand.

"FIGHT!"

Ah, hell… I was definitely losing this bet.

A memory resurfaced, striking me like a belated realization.

I knew I had seen her before.

Fan Shi—Isolation Path disciple. The same one from the first day of the festival. The one I had nearly locked eyes with.

Back then, I had the distinct sense that she had noticed something about me… but ultimately chose to ignore it. As if dismissing me as just another wandering cultivator, another face in the crowd.

And now, here she was.

"Oh man, and here I was hoping there would be more excitement."

This fight might be more one-sided than I imagined.

Too late now. Well… it had been fun while it lasted.

The moment Feng Yi flickered forward—his form dissolving into a rushing gale, blade slicing through the air—I knew he had lost.

Because my high Perception stat showed me the truth.

His sword cleaved nothing. Just an afterimage.

Fan Shi had already moved.

She reappeared behind him, her chains slithering like living things. Feng Yi barely had time to register the shift before—

BANG!

A vicious upward kick struck his abdomen, lifting him off his feet like a ragdoll caught in a storm.

Fan Shi followed, ascending with effortless grace, her motion fluid as flowing ink. In midair, she maneuvered behind him, her speed unnatural—impossible for the average eye to track. 

The formations in the arena helped lesser cultivators and mortals to see everything, though.

"Why am I feeling a sense of Déjà vu?"

Something about this technique…

It felt familiar.

Where had I seen this before?

…No. Probably just my imagination.

Fan Shi twisted, her chains snapping forward, wrapping around Feng Yi's limbs. They coiled, constricting like steel serpents, binding him completely.

He had no chance to counter.

Then, with a sharp spin—

She pile-drove him into the earth.

A tense silence followed.

Dust settled, revealing the aftermath.

Feng Yi lay embedded in the stone, limbs twisted at unnatural angles—unmoving. Either unconscious… or worse.

Fan Shi stood above him, untouched. Her expression remained unreadable as her chains slithered back into her sleeves, vanishing as if they had never moved at all.

The Enforcer wasted no time.

"FAN SHI OF THE ISOLATION PATH SECT IS VICTORIOUS!"

With equal urgency, he gestured for medics—or whatever the xianxia equivalent of them was.

Robed figures rushed onto the field, moving with practiced efficiency. They had the air of people who had seen far worse injuries than this. One knelt, pressing a hand to Feng Yi's chest, qi flaring in a diagnostic technique. Another retrieved a small jade bottle—likely a potent healing elixir.

The crowd erupted.

Cheers, roars of triumph. The joyous cries of those who had won their bets, mixed with the groans of those whose money had just vanished into the ether. But even the losing crowd wasn't disheartened—the sheer spectacle of the battle had swept them up. Excited murmurs filled the stands. Discussions of Fan Shi's eerie movements. The sheer brutality of that final strike.

I exhaled, rubbing my temples.

"Welp."

There went my money.

Losing sucked.

Not because I had any real attachment to Feng Yi, but because he could've at least put on a show.

If he had given up the initiative—just for a breath—if he had taken the time to study Fan Shi instead of rushing in… maybe, just maybe, he could've lasted longer.

But no. He went in blind, and she shut him down before he even got the chance to fight back.

I frowned, watching the medics work.

The gap between them wasn't supposed to be that wide. I thought the match would last at least a few more exchanges—a proper clash, a bit of back-and-forth. Instead, it was over before the excitement even peaked.

Something wasn't right.

I replayed the fight in my mind. The way she moved, the way her chains struck exactly where they needed to.

She never hesitated. Never probed. Never tested her opponent. 

It was as if she already knew Feng Yi's entire arsenal before the match even began. 

I turned to Gu Jie. "You said not much was known about her, right?"

Gu Jie nodded. "That's correct, Master. Fan Shi's record is sparse. The Isolation Path cultivators rarely interact with others, and she only had one public fight before this one."

That was weird. Too weird.

An unknown disciple, barely seen in combat, stepping onto the field and dismantling a known contender in mere breaths? Either she was a once-in-a-generation talent…

…Or she knew exactly how this battle would play out before it even started.

I looked back at the arena.

Fan Shi was already gone.

At some point, she had turned and left, vanishing into the inner tunnels of the coliseum like a shadow melting into the dark.

My gaze lingered on the spot she had last stood.

Something told me I'd be seeing her again.

And next time?

I wish she'd be the underdog.

Fan Shi had completely dominated that fight, but that only made me curious.

She'd fought from a position of strength, shutting down her opponent before he even had the chance to make a move. But what if the tables were turned? What if she was the underdog?

Could she claw her way back? Could she adapt when forced onto the backfoot?

I kind of wanted to see that.

A battle where she had to struggle, had to fight rather than simply execute.

"I think… I'm starting to see the real appeal of betting… The second-hand excitement is addicting..."