The Bixi’s roar faded into the distance, startling a flock of birds in the reed marshes of Lake Zui. For a brief moment, the entire Lingbo Pavilion fell silent, only to be overtaken by an even louder burst of cheers.
Amidst the rolling waves of applause, a few low, disgruntled mutters could be heard.
"Those retainers of the Zhao family are nothing but flashy trash."
"Just some small-town folk thinking they could make a name for themselves in Tianjing. Little did they know they’d lose their lives; it’s a waste of my good liquor money."
"That sword cultivator wasn't weak, though. I just didn't expect the Zhou family to be so ruthless, going for the kill right from the start. Looks like the grudge between Zhao Taisui and Zhou the Barbarian has deepened significantly."
Even though gambling duels were frequent at Linshui Pavilion, they were almost always settled with a mere point of contact. For two Rank Seven cultivators to fight for their lives from the very first move—no one would believe it wasn't at the secret prompting of their masters.
Rank Seven cultivators, especially the two who had just fought, were already standing on the threshold of the Middle-Rank. A capable Middle-Rank Cultivator, even for a prominent clan, was not a piece to be discarded lightly.
Ada searched the stage for a moment, recovered the two flying swords, placed them into the silk-lined box brought by Wei Guangcheng, and then strode toward the spectator stands.
"Young Master, mission accomplished." Ada cupped his hands in a salute.
"Good, very good." Zhou Tieyi repeated the word twice, eyeing the two flying swords in the box.
The two-foot-long cyan flying sword was exquisite but remained a standard treasure. It was the white-gold flying sword, which Wei Guangcheng had kept hidden in his throat, that earned a more lingering look from Zhou Tieyi.
"A sarira?" Zhou Tieyi wondered aloud. The small white-gold sword was about the size of a thumb, similar to the flesh sarira Zhao Taisui had produced, as if it had been carved from a single large bone sarira.
Before Zhou Tieyi could examine it closely, a calm, harmonious Buddhist chant echoed through the air. "Amitabha. This humble monk thanks Benefactor Zhou for returning the relic."
The gray-robed monk beside Zhao Taisui pressed his palms together in a gesture of respect toward Ada.
Ada looked at Zhou Tieyi. Although he had won the duel, this was a public contest, and there had been no wager regarding the deceased's personal effects. By custom, Wei Guangcheng’s belongings should be returned.
Zhou Tieyi nodded, signaling Ada to hand the box to the monk.
*It’s not that I don’t want to snatch it, but I’m worried I can’t win that fight,* he thought.
Zhou Tieyi’s gaze drifted away from the monk. In stark contrast to his drab robes, the sea of clouds above the monk’s head shimmered with a brilliant, pure golden light, within which the faint image of a bodhisattva lay reclined.
Still, he wouldn't miss a chance to get a verbal jab in. He turned to Zhao Taisui. "My thanks to Brother Zhao for the treasure."
Zhao Taisui’s expression was as dark as a brewing storm, yet he still reached into his robes, pulled out the box containing the sarira, and slammed it down onto the table in front of Zhou Tieyi.
"I want to bet with you again!" Zhao Taisui gasped, his voice ragged. He was already spiraling, unable to care about anything else. With a master by his side, he was certain he couldn't lose.
Zhou Tieyi glanced at Guan Guan beside him. He suspected this enchantress hadn't just planted a Divine Seed in him; she must have also drugged Zhao Taisui. Otherwise, even a fool like him wouldn't be this irrationally temperamental.
"What are we betting?"
A deep, slightly gravelly middle-aged voice spoke up.
A man wearing a full iron mask with temples slightly grayed at the edges walked over. Behind him followed a man who looked strikingly similar to Ada—it was A'er, who had gone to fetch reinforcements.
"Manager Gongshu." Zhou Tieyi blurted out, following his memories.
Manager Gongshu nodded at Zhou Tieyi and glanced at the box the monk held. Upon seeing the small sarira sword inside, he gave a look of surprise. "Interesting."
While the small sword appeared merely to be a polished sarira on the surface, its core managed to fuse sword cultivation with Buddhist practice. The ingenuity contained within was not simple at all.
"How about a duel between us? We’ll bet the small sword in your box." Gongshu Sheng pointed at the gray-robed monk. His right hand was a complex, intricate mechanical construct.
The entire arm resembled a sculpture carved from a raw log, colored a deep brown. Its partially hollow frame was embedded with a dizzying array of structures. Even more astonishing was that these components were essentially root-like extensions from the wood, some acting as straight levers and others as curved circular shafts—each functioning in its own way while forming a unified whole.
Gongshu Sheng was a man of action. He pointed toward the nine-acre Lingbo Pavilion. "But this stage is too small. Let's fight outside Linshui Pavilion."
Zhao Taisui was about to speak, but the gray-robed monk interrupted. "Manager Gongshu of the Tiger-Awe General’s manor once held off a thousand men at Sunset Pass. This humble monk has not practiced long and knows he is no match for you. However, I have heard that the Eldest Young Master of your manor is returning to the capital soon, and I would very much like to seek his guidance. Why not defer our match to another day?"
Gongshu Sheng’s gaze locked onto the man, who kept his eyes lowered with a humble expression.
*This monk is troublesome. Their true objective is Zhou Tiege!*
Gongshu Sheng’s mechanical fingers tapped the air as if contemplating something. After a long pause, he asked, "Monk, what is your name?"
"This humble monk is Shenxiu."
***
Zhou Tieyi followed Gongshu Sheng out of Linshui Pavilion, first bidding farewell to Li Jing. He held the sarira he had won from Zhao Taisui in one hand and kept his other arm around Guan Guan.
After looking at both of them, Zhou Tieyi suddenly gritted his teeth and pushed Guan Guan toward Prince Anle, Li Jing.
"What is the meaning of this, brother?" Li Jing asked in surprise. Based on what he knew of Zhou Tieyi, having gone to such lengths to win the beauty today, he would have surely brought her back home, even knowing he would be severely punished upon arrival.
Zhou Tieyi looked up at the moon for a moment before speaking. "Beauty is what I desire, and treasures are what I desire. However, I have an agreement with Brother Jing: we are to split the winnings of this duel. I have already promised the sarira to Ada, so I truly cannot deprive myself of such a beauty while also losing the prize. I have no choice but to endure the pain of letting her go."
Li Jing was left speechless, caught between laughter and frustration. "Your words have a touch of the ancient Confucian sages like Mencius, but there really was no need for this, brother..."
Before Li Jing could finish, Zhou Tieyi interrupted, "Brothers are like limbs, women are like clothing. How could I let a piece of clothing ruin the bond between me and Brother Jing? Besides, this woman has a seductive nature that is immensely nourishing. Why doesn't Brother Jing keep her in one of his separate estates? From now on, you and I shall be men of the same path."
*Is that really how "men of the same path" is used?*
Not only Prince Anle, but the surrounding onlookers were also stunned by Zhou Tieyi’s two brilliant arguments.
Zhou Tieyi, of course, didn't wait for Li Jing to react; he grabbed Gongshu Sheng and left.
One step, two steps... ten steps.
"Young Master, your performance today was quite good, so I shall not pay you a visit at your residence. By the way, while I do not know what secret treasure you possess that allows you to temporarily stabilize your mind, it is best not to stir the Divine Seed until you have full control. Once the Divine Seed is planted, it becomes a taboo that even those in the Upper Three Ranks find difficult to overcome. My master is one of the Nine Archaic Gods, the Supreme Lord of the Sea of Blood."
*She is threatening me.* Zhou Tieyi exhaled softly, memorizing the name "Supreme Lord of the Sea of Blood" to look up its origins later.
The enchantress’s objective had been temporarily met, and he had managed to get out of the night unscathed.