Chapter Seventy-Four: Defeating the Enemy with a Single Move

The next day at noon, Jiang Pingchuan sat in Master Gong’s carriage, hurrying toward the martial arena in Dongzhou City. Eyes closed within the carriage, he pondered the events of the previous night.

When he’d returned to his room, Meier was already gone. He couldn’t tell if it was really as she’d said—that he should forget her. Thinking of Meier, the image of Ning’er surfaced in his mind.

There was still something crucial he had yet to do; he hadn’t revived Zhou Ning’er. Now, with Meier entangled in his life as well, Jiang Pingchuan felt he was failing Zhou Ning’er, and even more so Meier. He was a man with someone he loved, yet he had still drawn Meier into his orbit.

“Brother Chuan, what’s on your mind?”

Lan Dao watched Jiang Pingchuan sitting silently in the carriage. Since returning to his room last night, Jiang Pingchuan’s behavior had been strange. Lan Dao had thought he was simply anxious about today’s martial contest.

But Jiang Pingchuan’s questions were odd—he’d asked if any maids had come to serve Lan Dao, and if he’d heard any sounds from Jiang Pingchuan’s room.

Lan Dao looked at him, puzzled. He’d fallen asleep at once the night before; no one had come to serve him, and he’d heard nothing from Jiang Pingchuan’s room.

Jiang Pingchuan had merely answered with a distracted “oh” before returning absentmindedly to his own room. Now, sitting in the carriage, he remained silent. Lan Dao wondered if his master was losing his nerve.

“It’s nothing. I just can’t figure out what’s really happening in Dongzhou City.”

Jiang Pingchuan opened his eyes to look at Lan Dao. Master Gong had gone to the arena early in the morning to make arrangements. All Jiang Pingchuan knew was that he was supposed to help Master Gong.

But as to what, exactly, he had no idea. It was an unpleasant feeling, being led by the nose, all initiative in someone else’s hands.

“What could possibly be happening in Dongzhou City?” Lan Dao muttered, leaning back in the carriage.

“Brother Chuan, don’t you think the steward at the Gong residence is odd?” Lan Dao suddenly asked, as if struck by a thought.

“Of course he’s odd. A steward so afraid of his master, and even the servants show him no respect—that’s certainly strange.”

Jiang Pingchuan smiled at Lan Dao. He’d thought he was the only one to notice, but apparently even Lan Dao could see it. It seemed the Gong residence really did hide a great secret.

Lan Dao nodded. Sifu didn’t look like a steward, but he did a steward’s tasks.

In Jiang Pingchuan’s eyes, the only “normal” person in the Gong household was Master Gong himself. Yet, being so normal was in itself the strangest thing of all.

“When we get to the arena, see what you can find out about Sifu,” Jiang Pingchuan said, patting Lan Dao on the shoulder. Lan Dao nodded, but suddenly froze.

“Brother Chuan, how did you—how do you have that?” Lan Dao’s breathing grew rapid as he pointed at the jade tablet hanging from Jiang Pingchuan’s chest. Jiang Pingchuan took it out, glanced at it, and gestured for Lan Dao to continue.

“That’s the War King’s Token—the military tally. Years ago, the Marquis of Three Rivers, titled War King, used this very token to guard the borderlands, keeping the barbarians and petty warlords at bay, protecting the capital. It vanished in the end, though.”

Lan Dao gazed at the jade in Jiang Pingchuan’s hand. Inlaid with gold and jade, it outshone even the royal token Lan Dao himself carried; this was likely the only such jade tablet in all of Changfeng.

“Why did it disappear?” Jiang Pingchuan put the token away and asked. It had been given to him by an old man in Grave Village, Sanjiang County. Remembering the words he’d seen on the stone stele—“Once a tiger in the woods, how could I stoop to mere survival”—he felt he was beginning to understand.

“Actually—”

“Gentlemen, we’ve arrived.”

Lan Dao had just begun to speak when the driver called out. Jiang Pingchuan glanced at him, signaling him to disembark. Lan Dao nodded; there would be time enough later.

Now that he knew Jiang Pingchuan possessed the War King’s Token, Lan Dao suspected his master had encountered someone from that man’s past.

Jiang Pingchuan and Lan Dao stepped from the carriage and beheld a vast plaza. At its center stood a high platform, ringed by a fence behind which crowds could stand and watch.

The martial arena was already packed. For the citizens, gentry, and cultivators of Dongzhou, today was momentous—the arena had not hosted a true duel in many years.

This was more than a contest; it concerned the crisis threatening Dongzhou itself. Until that crisis was resolved, the city would know no peace.

“He’s here...”

“That’s him? He looks so young...”

“Doesn’t seem special at all. Won’t Wu Duo kill him?”

“Wu Duo? Today he’s fighting Wu Duo?”

“Tsk, tsk. I doubt it. Wu Duo hasn’t fought in years, and it’s said he’s on the verge of breaking through.”

“Wu Duo’s formidable, but I think this young man is more handsome...”

“What’s the use of good looks if he’s just going to die...”

“Oh, good looks matter. If he survives, I’ll keep him.”

“Ha, this kid offended the young city lord, so the young lord sent Wu Duo. Seems like he doesn’t intend to let the boy live.”

“Let him live? You must not be from Dongzhou. Here, in Gedo, you don’t leave the stage unless your opponent is dead.”

“If Wu Duo dares kill him, Dongzhou’s beauties won’t let him off, hmph...”

“That’s right! Sisters, if Wu Duo bullies our boy, no one is to take his business again...”

As Jiang Pingchuan and Lan Dao walked, the murmurs around them rose and fell. Upon learning he was to face Wu Duo, most doubted Jiang Pingchuan’s chances—Wu Duo was notorious in Dongzhou.

Jiang Pingchuan was a newcomer and hadn’t shown his strength. In Changfeng, where cultivators’ power was suppressed, Wu Duo was considered unmatched.

“Well, well. Kid, you’ve got guts, coming here.”

Han Ming watched Jiang Pingchuan and Lan Dao, though his gaze lingered oddly on Lan Dao.

“Pingchuan, over here.”

Master Gong saw Han Ming blocking Jiang Pingchuan’s path and came over, taking Jiang Pingchuan by the hand and leading him around Han Ming. Han Ming’s face darkened; he forced a laugh. Old fool—soon enough you’ll be begging me. Han Ming turned to watch Wu Duo, who had already stepped onto the stage.

“Pingchuan, that’s your opponent. His name is Wu Duo, Dongzhou’s foremost martial prodigy. He’s on the verge of the peak—you must be careful,” Master Gong said gravely. He hadn’t expected Han Ming to send Wu Duo.

This meant a fierce battle was inevitable. Whether Jiang Pingchuan could win, Master Gong had no confidence at all.

“Is the early peak of Foundation Establishment really the highest level in Changfeng?”

Jiang Pingchuan looked at the meditating Wu Duo. Master Gong nodded; Jiang Pingchuan now confirmed that the strongest here were only at the early peak of Foundation Establishment.

Though he himself hadn’t reached Foundation Establishment, with just six Dao Crystals he’d already bested Tuoba Hewu at that level—so Wu Duo, who’d only brushed the threshold, was no threat.

“Where is the challenger Jiang Pingchuan?”

Wu Duo’s voice rang out from the platform, and the entire arena fell silent, all eyes fixed on the stone steps leading up.

Jiang Pingchuan met Wu Duo’s gaze; in that instant, something within him stirred.

Wu Duo frowned but said nothing. Jiang Pingchuan shook out his robes and strode forward, drawing the gaze of everyone present—he was at the center of all attention.

“What...”

“Is this boy mad...?”

“What kind of power is this?”

Jiang Pingchuan didn’t take the stone steps, but walked straight toward Wu Duo’s position. After two steps, his foot landed in midair—each step treading the void, as if climbing an invisible staircase toward Wu Duo.

Everyone watched in astonishment, for none had ever witnessed such a sight. In that moment, Jiang Pingchuan’s stature in their eyes changed utterly.

Wu Duo sat cross-legged on the stage, watching Jiang Pingchuan approach. Behind Jiang Pingchuan, he saw a vast shadow—a figure clad in dark red armor, spear in hand, boots glimmering with crimson clouds, advancing step by step.

Wu Duo felt an oppressive force crushing his body. The more he struggled, the stronger the pressure became. Soon, those watching saw Wu Duo begin to cough blood.

His body twisted and collapsed limply on the stage, utterly still. Jiang Pingchuan gazed at him with cool detachment—he hadn’t even reached Wu Duo, hadn’t stepped onto the platform, yet the much-vaunted Wu Duo was already bleeding from every orifice, barely clinging to life.

Up in the stands, someone gasped and slipped away through the crowd. Jiang Pingchuan smiled at the direction where that person vanished, then stepped lightly onto the platform.

He had reached the stage at last.

It had only just begun—yet it was already over.