Volume One: The Young Man Enters the World Chapter Thirty-Five: The Competition Begins

Sun Zhengyun watched as the Chen family finally arrived, though he was still displeased by their tardiness. He spoke up immediately, “Chen Shikang, you might as well have delayed a little longer. I was about to split the Spirit Pool with Clan Leader Zhou, and your sudden appearance is rather unfortunate.”

Chen Shikang could tell this was sarcasm, but he merely smiled and replied, “Brother Sun, there were matters at home. If you feel wronged, please accept my apologies here and now.”

Sun Zhengyun found this a little odd; Chen Shikang seemed different from usual, which was strange. Still, despite his suspicions, he paid them no mind.

“Since you’ve said as much, how could I harbor any resentment? That would only give others reason to call me narrow-minded.”

“Thank you for your understanding, Brother Sun.”

“You’re too polite, Brother Chen.”

The two exchanged these pleasantries, their words polite but their smiles insincere.

At this, Zhou Yunshu felt that everyone had arrived and it was time to begin the contest. If they waited any longer, who knew how much more time would be wasted. He interrupted their exchange.

“Clan Leaders, it’s getting late. I suggest we start the contest as soon as possible.”

Both men nodded in agreement, letting the matter drop.

With that, the members of the Chen family entered the arena, signaling that the three-clan contest could officially begin.

But the question remained—who would make the official announcement? The three exchanged glances.

Then Chen Shikang spoke up, “Brother Zhou, why don’t you do the honors?”

Sun Zhengyun also nodded his agreement.

Seeing that the other two had deferred to him, Zhou Yunshu did not refuse. He said, “Since you both wish for me to announce the start, I shall do so.”

He rose, walked onto the dueling stage, and clasped his hands behind his back—one of which held a bamboo tube containing twelve bamboo slips. He raised his voice.

“Everyone, before we begin, allow me to explain the rules.”

“It will be a series of one-on-one duels, with opponents decided by drawing lots. There are twelve participants in total, and I have twelve bamboo slips here, each marked with a number from one to twelve. The number you draw will determine your opponent.”

“Victory is decided when one party admits defeat, is rendered unable to continue, or is forced off the stage.”

“To prevent members of the same clan from facing each other in the first round, each clan will draw numbers as follows: one to four, five to eight, and nine to twelve. Then, one to four will face seven, eight, eleven, and twelve.”

“Five and six will face nine and ten.”

At this point, Zhou Yunshu looked to the other two clan leaders.

“Which of us will draw the first lot, one to four?”

Chen Shikang did not hesitate. “Our Chen family will go first.”

“Very well. Our Zhou family will draw second. Brother Sun, your clan will draw third—is that acceptable?”

Sun Zhengyun replied, “That’s fine. No need to make a fuss over it.”

“Then, all participants, please come forward to draw your lots.”

The contestants wasted no time, each stepping onto the stage to draw a slip. As they looked at the numbers in their hands, plans began to form in their minds.

Once the drawing was done, Zhou Yunshu spoke again. “Those in the first match, please remain. The rest, step down.”

“The contest begins.”

Thanks to the draw, the first two matches pitted the Chen and Zhou families against each other.

After a short while, only two remained on the stage. They bowed to one another, then both shouted, channeling spiritual energy as they charged at each other and began to trade blows.

The spectators fixed their gaze on the dueling platform. Among the Zhou family’s section sat Fang Tian and Zhou Xiaodie, with Zhou Quan seated beside them.

Since Zhou Quan’s turn had not yet come, he idly struck up a conversation with Fang Tian.

“Brother Fang, who do you think will win this bout?”

“The Chen family’s contestant should come out on top.”

“Really? You think Zhou Lin will lose to someone from the Chen family?”

“Yes. Zhou Lin may have reached the eighth stage of Spirit Conduction, but he only just broke through—his spiritual energy isn’t yet stable.”

“But that doesn’t guarantee his defeat.”

“In terms of cultivation, the Chen family’s contestant is at the same level, but his spiritual energy is far more robust. Zhou Lin is at a disadvantage. Judging by their techniques, neither seems superior, but I expect Zhou Lin will lose because he’ll run out of energy first.”

“Sigh, the way you put it, I suppose you’re right. Losing the first match is rather inauspicious.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve looked over the next match, and our odds are quite good. It’s far from hopeless.”

“I hope so. It would be hard to explain if we lost two in a row.”

Sure enough, as the match progressed, Zhou Lin’s energy was the first to wane. Unable to withstand the onslaught, he was forced to the edge of the stage and then kicked off by the Chen family’s contestant.

The Chen family claimed victory in the first round.

Chen Shikang, seeing his junior’s success, beamed with pleasure and looked to Zhou Yunshu.

“Brother Zhou, my family’s youngsters seem to be quite formidable, don’t you think?”

Zhou Yunshu’s expression was calm, betraying no emotion. “Indeed. It appears you’ve invested considerable effort in their training.”

“Heh, you flatter me, Brother Zhou.”

With that, Chen Shikang glanced behind Zhou Yunshu and spotted Fang Tian—the very one who had injured his son. His eyes narrowed, thoughts churning with unknown intent.

But it was only a glance; he soon turned his attention back to the stage.

Fang Tian sensed a chill, as if someone was watching him. He turned to look but saw nothing, though he felt certain it was someone from the Chen family.

Zhou Xiaodie, noticing his gaze, asked, “Brother Fang, is something wrong?”

Fang Tian turned to her with a smile. “It’s nothing, just looking around.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Let’s watch the contest—it’s starting.”

Zhou Xiaodie nodded, and the two turned their attention back to the stage.

As Fang Tian watched the match, his mind was busy with other thoughts. That glance had indeed come from the Chen family’s side—just for an instant, but he hadn’t caught who it was. The look was full of hostility, a lingering grudge over his having injured one of their own. But there was nothing they could do about it, which only fueled their resentment.

Still, that was to be expected. As long as they left him alone, he would not trouble them. But if they tried for revenge again, he would show no mercy—he would make sure none returned.

At that thought, Fang Tian’s gaze grew a shade colder, though no one noticed.

On the stage, the second match was underway. Unlike the first, which was a contest of spiritual power, this match was all about mastery of martial techniques. Zhou Shan, from the Zhou family, seized an opening, gathered his spiritual energy, and landed a palm strike squarely on his opponent’s chest, sending the Chen family’s contestant sprawling.

About to follow up, Zhou Shan halted as his fallen opponent conceded defeat. With no choice but to withdraw, Zhou Shan stepped down from the stage.

The Zhou family had evened the score in the second round.