Chapter 32: This Young Master Claims A Stage

In a world where people just had to train hard to gain magical kung-fu superpowers it was only natural that they’d want to display their metaphysical dan belts like a graduate from a for-profit dojo. The Clearsprings City’s arenas were where the strong, both in truth and in their own head, congregated to establish dominance over their peers and show off the results of their diligent practice.

While the city had various venues for fighting, the ones managed directly by the City Lord were the largest and most popular. Centered around a single stadium built out of large blocks of blue-gray stone stretched a district of arenas, viewing towers, and shops that thrived off of blood, sweat, and dignity, both gain and loss. The large stadium was only opened for large tournaments or other special events, on those days some 30 thousand spectators would come and witness bloody competition. Unfortunately it wasn’t a place Chen Haoran could enter right now.

Chen Haoran and Song Yuelin waded through invigorated crowds that clustered around various kinds of stages. Some were raised platforms of stone or wood, others were flat, tile-paved affairs. A few were just dirt plots sectioned off by rope. There was a clear yet unspoken division of strength. Higher-layer cultivators congregated around the better arenas. Chen Haoran cast his sense out to look for an appropriate location. Somewhere with higher layer cultivators and in an easily visible location. They needed to make a splash after all.

Song Yuelin tapped his shoulder. “How about there Young Master Chen?” He pointed out a decently sized square stone stage not far from the main road. Unlike many of the other venues it had proper seating as well, three wooden rows of what looked like gym-bleachers.

There were two men fighting atop it when they arrived. Chen Haoran reached with his sense, Sixth-Layer, the both of them. A tall burly man wielded a greatsword six feet long and swung with large sweeping slashes that reminded Chen Haoran of the Liquid Meridian realm bear. The other was a bony-looking man who used a much more standard jian much like his own Mysterious Watersteel Sword. The bony man darted around the burly one, trying to bait him into overextending. The burly man was implacable however and gradually corned his opponent at the edge of the arena. Seeing his situation become untenable the bony man gave a shout and his sword glowed a bright, poisonous green. He launched himself towards the burly man like a striking viper. Rather than use his greatsword to block the burly man planted it into the ground and bellowed out a thunderous roar. It had to have been some kind of technique as the air distorted and the bony man, unable to dodge, was sent careening out of the arena.

“What do you think, Young Master Chen?”

On stage the burly man was accepting the cheers from the observing crowd.

Chen Haoran smiled. “It’s perfect.” He leaped into the air and landed in the center of the stage. The noise of the crowd stuttered and the burly man turned to him in surprise.

“Chen Haoran?” the man said, eyebrows raised.

“My reputation precedes me I see.” He didn’t know if he’d ever get used to being so easily recognized. Especially given the reasons why.

“Are you here to challenge me as well?”

“Who the fuck are you?” It was a genuine question. “I’m here to make an announcement. You’re in the way.”

Veins bulged on the burly man’s face. “You bastard-”

His cursing was abruptly interrupted when Chen Haoran appeared in front of him and buried his fist into the man's gut. The burly man was sent flying off the stage much like his previous opponent did. Chen Haoran scanned the crowd surrounding him, there was no cheering. He could see Song Yuelin in the stands. The man had laid out a veritable picnic spread around him. He cheerily gave Chen Haoran a thumbs up.

Chen Haoran breathed. He could do this. “I’m here to find someone who can defeat me!” His voice boomed with qi and he could see curious pedestrians turn his way. “To whoever is talented enough to force this Chen Haoran off this stage will receive 10,000 gold taels!”

“Prepare to hand over your money then!” the burly man roared as he charged back up to the stage. His throat bulged and he roared let loose a furious shockwave.

It was nothing compared to the bear Song Yuelin had fought. Chen Haoran cycled his qi and forced his way through the blast. The burly man barely had time to look shocked before Chen Haoran clasped a hand around his throat in a vice grip. The burly man started to choke. Chen Haoran paused to soak in the shocked exclamations of the crowd before pivoting on his foot and hurling the cultivator off the stage again.

Chen Haoran turned back to the audience. “Who’s next?”

The crowd had nearly doubled in size. Chen Haoran had raised the bet to 20 thousand gold taels. Six brave challengers rose to claim it.

Chen Haoran punched out and knocked away a whistling axe head. Taking advantage of the opening he stepped into his unlucky opponent's guard and landed a punishing blow into his chest. The man collapsed in a heaving fit.

Seven challengers have fallen trying.

Chen Haoran flexed his hands as his latest challenger limped off the stage. All the cultivators who had challenged him so far only possessed Mortal-rank techniques and none had the skills needed to make up for that gap. It only served to remind him how amazing Lan Fen was. Despite being similarly limited she crossed that gap with ease.

He glanced back at Song Yuelin. The man was devouring a whole basket of cookies by himself, completely ignoring Chen Haoran, and disgusting the people surrounding him in the process.

Chen Haoran snorted and swept his gaze across the crowd. “Is this it?” he jeered. “Perhaps I haven’t offered enough taels. Since seven challengers have come and lost, how about I raise the pot by 70 thousand taels?”

A greedy exhalation raced through the audience. 90 thousand taels was no small sum, even for members of the stronger families.

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“Will you really pay it though?” a snide voice asked. Emerging from the crowd came a tall youth, whipcord thin with a long spear strapped on his back. His hair was a vibrant white. He was dressed luxuriously, all silk and brocade, and carried himself proudly.

The Lan family.

“On my honor,” Chen Haoran replied.

The noble youth regarded him with disdain. “And what honor would that be?”

Chen Haoran gestured grandly. “Come see it for yourself.”

Chen Haoran sensed his cultivation, Eighth-layer. He could handle that.

“Make sure you bring that money to the Lan family estate yourself then. Tell them that Lan Ci sent you.” The newly named Lan Ci pulled the spear off his back and twirled it in his hands.

Chen Haoran said nothing but drew his own sword in response. They slowly circled around each other to the hollering of the audience. It seemed Lan Ci was a popular man. Or perhaps they were for him?

Lan Ci thrusted his spear and Chen Haoran took it on the flat of his blade. He felt the force of the youths qi transfer through the contact and stepped back. The crowd cried out in amazement. It was the first time Chen Haoran had been forced to step back since he entered the stage. He shook his arm out and observed Lan Ci again. The arrogant boy stared back.

“Really? Mortal-rank? Are you not a wood spirit root or are you just trash?”

Laughter rose from the crowd and Lan Ci purpled. “Watch your tongue!”

They clashed again. Lan Ci’s spear whipped out like a snake to keep him at bay. Chen Haoran ducked under it and slammed his shoulder into Lan Ci’s chest. Unprepared, Lan Ci took it full on but managed to spin into a trembling recovery rather than fall. He looked murderous, but Chen Haoran could see how his grip twitched.

Lan Ci stepped back. “What trickery are you playing, Chen Haoran?” Flames danced along his spear.

Chen Haoran smiled. “Who needs tricks? I’m just better than you.”

Lan Ci roared and burst forward. His spear became a burning lance in his hands. Chen Haoran sighed and raised his sword. He had been looking forward to seeing the Lan family’s signature methods.

Lan Ci’s fiery spear glowed bright and he slammed it straight for Chen Haoran’s heart. He was slow though, nowhere near Lan Fen’s speed let alone Song Yuelin’s. There were several options he had to deal with Lan Ci, but those were more effort than necessary.

He caught the burning spear in his hands.

“What?” Lan Ci cried out, before being violently shaken when Chen Haoran forced the spear back.

He cycled qi through to his sword and slashed the spear in half. Lan Ci looked at the broken half he held in shock while Chen Haoran raised his own half and smashed the flat end of the spear head down onto the Lan cultivator’s head.

Lan Ci crumpled. The audience roared their approval as his companions arrived to drag Lan Ci from the stage. Chen Haoran let the adulation wash over him. Perhaps the Young Master’s recognition, much like his cultivation, was just another thing he had to make his own before he could properly appreciate it.

Loud, qi enhanced clapping broke through the din of the crowd. Chen Haoran looked out and saw a shock of white hair and a sneering face. A very slappable face. A face he did slap.

Lan Junjie.

The bait had been taken.

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