Chapitre 53: The Martial Arts Tournament
At dawn's early light, Autumn Sun Villa was already teeming with people. The bitter cold wind still cut to the bone, yet it did nothing to quell the fiery enthusiasm of the crowd. The once-in-a-decade Martial Arts Tournament had begun, right on schedule.
For those in the martial world, many had honed their skills for years with the sole aim of showcasing their prowess at this event, hoping to gain fame and fortune. Even the lesser-skilled masses, clinging to a sliver of hope, came in droves, making the competition fierce and drawn out, often requiring weeks before a victor emerged.
Traditionally, the tournament was divided into three rounds: a chaotic preliminary battle, followed by one hundred competitors advancing to the second round. In the second round, the participants chose their own opponents from the remaining ninety-nine, and through deep understanding of their adversaries, they strove for victory. The third and final round was decided by drawing lots.
However, this year's tournament, overseen by the former martial alliance leader, Nian Anba, was different. Instead of the usual three rounds, this year's competition was an all-out brawl, a single round where the strongest could quickly seize victory.
As the morning light broke through the horizon, the first rays of sunshine heralded the beginning of a new day, one that promised to be unlike any other. The sky was a pristine blue, the sun shone brightly, indicating ideal weather.
The arena at Autumn Sun Villa, with its transformed appearance, stood ready to welcome heroes from all corners. In the center stood a ten-meter-tall bamboo scaffold, sturdy yet deceptively fragile. One person could walk on it without issue, but if too many rushed at once, it would surely collapse, nullifying previous efforts and likely causing injury or worse.
Atop the bamboo frame, a brightly-colored box, wrapped in red silk, glittered under the sunlight, containing the coveted Snow Toad. Surrounding the scaffold, crimson silk ribbons stretched in all directions, extending to the VIP stands, creating a festive yet disorienting visual display. Competitors couldn't simply stride onto the stage as they had in the past. They had to balance on the unsteady red silk. This became a critical point—those with less-than-perfect agility would think twice before attempting the climb.
The competition was a life-or-death affair, as always. The fragile ribbons danced in the wind, and for those fortunate enough to reach the stage unscathed, there was a chance of survival. In earlier days, when fights ended after the first blow, a competitor might escape with their life, perhaps even with minor injuries. But now, such leniency was no longer guaranteed.
In the world of martial arts, no one could claim they hadn't made enemies. A moment of carelessness, a fall from a ten-meter height, and death or crippling injury was all but certain.
The VIP stands, positioned to the left and right of the stage, offered an unobstructed view of the entire event. From here, the spectacle atop the bamboo tower grew more intense and clearer with every step upward.
On the left side sat the nobles of the Zhou Dynasty, including King Hui of Zhou and the respected Nian Anba, invited to preside over the event. In the past, no one would dare defy the imperial edicts, but times had changed. The kingdom was divided, and the chaos of the world had upended the old order.
On the right side were princes and emissaries from various vassal states, most of them young talents. Among them were Lan Yixuan and Jun Pinyu, whose presence brought a lighter, more relaxed atmosphere compared to the solemn air on the left.
Directly in front, members of the Martial Alliance stood, gazing up at the brightly-colored box suspended on the bamboo frame, their eyes filled with determination and ambition. Even if they couldn't claim the ultimate prize, to stand at the top would ensure their name was known throughout the land.
From the VIP seats, the crowd below appeared as a sea of indistinguishable faces, bustling and restless. On the left, Nian Anba held onto a pillar, his hand gripping a vividly-colored flag that fluttered in the wind. His daughter, Nian Xiaoyu, stood on the right, waving to her father with admiration. As the cherished daughter of the former alliance leader, she naturally stood beside him, though Bai Zhanfeng, the heir of the Bai family, had reluctantly acknowledged his lineage and chose to sit with Xuanyuan Hao and others, bringing Nian Xiaoyu along with him.
As the time for the match approached, the crowd's attention shifted from the scaffold to Nian Anba, eyes fixed on the flag in his hand. Behind a thin veil, one could faintly glimpse the peerless beauty of the princess, as distant and untouchable as the snows of the Tianshan Mountains. Rumor had it, the princess intended to take the tournament's victor as her consort.
Nian Anba spoke of the tournament's principles, urging the competitors to show camaraderie and mercy, though everyone knew that kindness in battle was a weakness. In the arena, showing mercy to one's opponent was akin to cruelty toward oneself. No one truly intended to hold back.
With a swift gesture, Nian Anba waved the flag, and immediately, dozens of figures leaped onto the red silk platform. Fists flew, swords clashed, and faces turned crimson with fury and determination.
One unlucky soul lost his footing and fell from the ten-meter height. Some were fortunate enough to be caught by their companions, escaping with mere scrapes, but others, lacking both skill and foresight, could only scream in terror as they plummeted to the ground.
Bai Zhanfeng, his hands gripping the railing, observed as more fighters stormed the stage, heading toward the bamboo tower. Even from a distance, it was clear—the first to reach it believed they would be the victor.
"Brother Feng, why aren't you joining the fight?"
Nian Xiaoyu, standing beside Bai Zhanfeng, frowned at the chaotic scene unfolding before them. "How could they hope to win with such poor skills? They're dreaming."
The truly clever ones knew better than to rush in at the start, as it would only draw attention and make them targets. The wise waited for the right moment, like a fisherman waiting to cast his net.
Bai Zhanfeng cast a glance at the smiling Nian Xiaoyu beside him, his face stern. "Why aren't you with your master?"
His voice was cold and sharp, but Nian Xiaoyu was accustomed to his icy demeanor. She had followed him for three years, undeterred by his harsh words. By now, the sting of rejection had dulled, and her heart had grown numb to the pain.
Perhaps she had considered giving up. But every time she was on the verge of doing so, he would show her a fleeting moment of kindness, and for that, she couldn't bring herself to walk away.
Bai Zhanfeng took a few steps forward, his eyes scanning the crowd, clearly searching for someone.
"Brother Feng, the tournament has already begun. She won't come."
Nian Xiaoyu tugged at his sleeve, her heart aching. Though she was often careless in other matters, when it came to Bai Zhanfeng, she understood all too well what his every action meant. She had fallen too deeply into the whirlpool of her feelings, unable to extricate herself.
For three long years, the most precious years of her life, she had chased him day and night, defying her family's opposition and enduring the ridicule of the world. But as long as she could be by his side, she found it all worthwhile.
Bai Zhanfeng let out a snort, brushing aside the beaded curtain with a flick of his wrist. His right hand clenched into a fist as he struck the table where Lan Yixuan sat, sending tea flying. Standing tall, he looked down at him. "Where is Xianyue?"
Though he hated to admit it, Bai Zhanfeng knew that Lan Yixuan shared a closer bond with her. The ever-elegant Lan Yixuan, with his calm and commanding presence, always seemed to know the answers to every question the world posed.
"I have no idea."
Lan Yixuan did not raise his head. For people like him, they never had the habit of looking up to anyone at any time, in any place.
Feng Jiulan, sitting in the corner, bathed in sunlight. His snow-white skin seemed so translucent, as though he might dissolve into mist at any moment.
He held the cup lid in one hand, watching the steam rise. Ever since Xianyue left the palace, his temperament had grown aloof and solitary, rarely speaking to anyone, and avoiding lively gatherings like this. He came today only in the hope of encountering Xianyue here.
At the sound of Bai Zhanfeng mentioning Xianyue's name, his hand holding the cup lid paused slightly.
It seemed that his Yue'er knew all of these people. From Bai Zhanfeng's tone, Lan Yixuan appeared to be quite familiar with her.
He placed the cup lid down. From his position, he could only see Lan Yixuan's back, straight and unyielding, yet without a hint of stiffness. The ever-smiling mouth, noble and graceful—how could such a man possibly be some nameless wanderer?
Does he truly know Yue'er? Or is he like Bai Zhanfeng, simply enamored with her? If Yue'er were to marry him, would he treat her well for the rest of her life?
This man—his emotions were unreadable, making it impossible to guess his thoughts. But if he wished, he could certainly care for Yue'er. And Yue'er, does she love him?
"She will come," Lan Yixuan said calmly, as if stating an undeniable fact. He gazed outside. Moments ago, the bamboo scaffolding was empty, but now it was packed with people.
Below, many were preparing to climb, their hands gripping the bamboo, only to be yanked down by others rushing from behind. The fall was short, and though painful, caused no serious injuries.
In the middle of the scaffolding, people followed each other's footsteps cautiously, their hands and feet scrambling, every movement fraught with tension. It seemed they could all use three heads and six arms at this point.
Those around them attempted to overtake them; those below tried to pull them down to claim their position. And those above? You could only hope to drag them down as well. At every moment, vigilance was required.
The sound of bamboo cracking echoed, but no one heard it over the clash of weapons and the deafening shouts of the crowd.
All they cared about was defeating the others, reaching the pinnacle. More people were falling, but none were seriously injured. Those who had made it this far were agile and skilled, quick to land on their feet or at least minimize injury.
Lan Yixuan smiled, tracing his finger along the rim of his cup before tapping it lightly.
Bai Zhanfeng's sword-like brows furrowed as he stared at Lan Yixuan's hand, then his face, a trace of surprise flickering in his eyes.
Didn't he have an obsession with cleanliness?
Just as Bai Zhanfeng thought this, Lan Yixuan pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and wiped the moisture from his fingertip. "Lei Yun, the tea has cooled. Bring me another cup."
Bai Zhanfeng inwardly sighed, relieved. This was the Lan Yixuan he knew.
Lei Yun bowed respectfully and took the tea away to brew a fresh pot for Lan Yixuan.
"She will not relinquish the Snow Toad," Lan Yixuan added. "What she fights for with her life, she will never let go."
The bond between brother and sister ran deep. If anyone ever tried to harm her brother, no matter who they were, she would stand by his side.
Lan Yixuan smiled again, his gaze sweeping over the chaotic scene of life and death struggles before him. Even if she arrived now, it would only be to join in the spectacle.
Bai Zhanfeng's heart finally settled. That night, she had left with a silver-haired woman under mysterious circumstances. Until he saw her safe before him, he had not been at ease.
That woman's martial skill was far superior to his own. If she had any ill intent towards Xianyue, Xianyue would not be able to defend herself.
"How do you know?" Bai Zhanfeng asked. Lan Yixuan had said she would come to Panzhou, and she did. And he had said she would attend the martial arts tournament. He had chosen to believe him without hesitation.
Bai Zhanfeng despised Lan Yixuan's certainty when it came to Xianyue. He always spoke with such conviction, and it made Bai Zhanfeng deeply uncomfortable.
Xianyue was his woman.
"The one she cares for most needs the Snow Toad," Lan Yixuan replied.
He turned slightly, casting a polite smile toward Feng Jiulan, his lips curving elegantly.
Jun Pinyu, standing nearby, was stunned. Was there anything this man didn't know?
Meanwhile, on the stage, those who had been biding their time now surged forward. The lead contenders were only inches from the prize, and some could no longer hold back, leaping ahead.
Unlike the initial rush of contenders, these new challengers were tall yet nimble, their movements as light as dragonflies skimming the water. They encountered little resistance as they ascended the bamboo scaffolding with ease.
Their actions weren't swift as lightning, but they were exceedingly calculated and cruel. At this moment, only victory mattered. No one would remember how you won, only that you did.
As they climbed, they used others as stepping stones, leaping from shoulder to shoulder with grace and efficiency.
Lei Yun returned with fresh tea, placing it before Lan Yixuan, but Bai Zhanfeng intercepted it, snatching the cup from Lei Yun's hands. He took a sip, only to spit it out in distaste.
"What is this tea? Why is it so bitter?" he asked, wiping his mouth. Nian Xiaoyu quickly rushed over with a cup of rinse water, which Bai Zhanfeng gratefully accepted, rinsing his mouth several times. He felt much better when he saw Lan Yixuan's brow tighten slightly.
How does he know I hate bitterness?
"A bitter brew, like a good medicine, calms the spirit," Lan Yixuan replied nonchalantly, turning back to Lei Yun, who immediately presented him with another cup of tea.
"If you win, Bai Zhanfeng, and gift the Snow Toad to Xianyue, she will be delighted."
This martial arts tournament had not drawn the older generation of legendary warriors.
The younger generation of martial artists was certainly talented, but in the world of Jianghu, it was Bai Zhanfeng and Lan Yixuan who stood above the rest, with no one else capable of surpassing them. Even Xuanyuan Hao's skills were comparable to theirs.
"Why don't you compete?"
Having suffered at Lan Yixuan's hands before, Bai Zhanfeng was now cautious, always asking questions first.
"I promised her in Yanjing that I wouldn't compete against her," Lan Yixuan replied, his expression noble and sincere, like a true gentleman.
Bai Zhanfeng's gaze sharpened, piercing as a blade, as if he could see straight through Lan Yixuan's thoughts.
Bai Zhanfeng clenched his jaw, his gaze burning as he stared at the people below. The Snow Toad was a rare treasure, capable of enhancing ten years of martial strength. For most in the Jianghu world, it was a priceless elixir. But for someone like Bai Zhanfeng, a disciple of the great Nian Anba, who had access to powerful medicines, it wasn't as significant.
What they sought wasn't strength, but the title of number one in the world.
Bai Zhanfeng stood, stretching his neck and rolling his shoulders. "Time to get moving."
"Go for it, Brother Feng!"
Nian Xiaoyu shouted loudly, her voice clear and piercing, like a cry in the stillness of the night. Bright red blood dripped from the eaves, falling onto the corridor with a haunting clarity, as if the sound of heartbreak could be heard in the silence. Her radiant smile, more brilliant than the sunlight, shattered like glass struck by a hammer, splintering into pieces.
A shadow in black shot forth with the force of a sea storm, tearing through the air with such ferocity that even the faint hissing of the rupture could be heard. The crimson silk billowed wildly, making a resonant sound, like tempered steel, strong enough to bear any immense power.
Bai Zhanfeng stood above, unhurried and at ease, a white aura encircling him under the sun. He moved leisurely, as if strolling along a solid stone bridge.
Seeing this, a few hot-blooded men below exchanged a glance and leaped forward. Yet no matter how agile they were, the gusting winds made it impossible to find balance. With a mere tap of Bai Zhanfeng's raised leg, the silk beneath them tipped like a seesaw, and with a light exertion, those behind him were sent flying into the air before crashing to the ground.
"Brother Feng, you're amazing!"
"Brother Feng, you're incredible!"
Nian Xiaoyu gripped the railing with both hands, leaning forward, her silver whip dancing like a serpent in the air, cheering Bai Zhanfeng on with fervor.
Her master's pride gleamed in Nian Anba's eyes as he stroked his beard, satisfied. Yet, when he saw his daughter's unseemly behavior, his thick eyebrows furrowed in disapproval, and he shot her a stern warning glare.
In front of the gathering martial artists, how could she disregard her dignity like this?
Nian Xiaoyu playfully stuck out her tongue, quieted herself, and her whip moved with even more grace.
"The daughter of Leader Nian seems utterly devoted to Master Bai," someone teased, though the smiling voice carried a tinge of mockery.
Nian Anba turned and smiled kindly at the group behind him. His daughter had indeed been spoiled by his indulgence—there was no reining her in now.
But Feng'er...
Nian Anba sighed inwardly. Three years—three years of cold indifference—and she still hadn't given up. What would it take for her to let go?
"Why doesn't Young Master Xuanyuan challenge Brother Bai himself?"
Lan Yixuan glanced sideways at Xuanyuan Hao. "Why not let Master Bai have what he desires?"
"If you want Xianyue to be your woman, you'll have to defeat Brother Bai first."
On the bamboo scaffolding, the sound of cracking bamboo grew louder. Many of the poles had already broken away, sending people tumbling. In the midst of the chaos, some old foes collided, and soon the supports began to collapse under the fierce combat, trembling as if about to crumble at any moment.
After a round of intense fighting, many were worn out, and hearing that Bai Zhanfeng had arrived struck fear into some hearts. Of course, there were others who, believing that Bai's reputation had been exaggerated due to his noble lineage, were eager to challenge him. They no longer cared for the prize—defeating Bai Zhanfeng here would be glory enough.
Several men turned back midway, all charging at Bai Zhanfeng.
Bai Zhanfeng looked up at the approaching attackers without fear, without retreat, and without the slightest excitement. These men were no match for him. Though the martial world was full of talent, none here today could rival him.
What he didn't realize was that the true martial masters—those with wisdom beyond their years—had chosen to watch from the shadows, waiting for a wise leader to emerge from the turmoil in Yanjing, rather than pledging loyalty to the waning Zhou dynasty and jeopardizing their future.
Dressed in black, like an unsheathed arrow, he shot forward with unimaginable speed, his movements powered by the northern wind. With a single strike, flames flickered beneath the sunlight, setting their bodies ablaze.
"Ah!"
A series of shrill screams echoed. Hidden behind a white flash, no one saw how Bai Zhanfeng had attacked, only that those surrounding him had collapsed to the ground.
The flame flickered and spread, burning more fiercely by the second. With a thunderous explosion, the tall scaffold split in two, shaking the earth beneath it.
As the bamboo structure began to collapse, Bai Zhanfeng leaped to the top, snatching the box from its peak. On the other side, Nian Xiaoyu could barely contain her excitement, shouting at the top of her lungs, "Brother Feng, I love you!"
Her excitement was like that of a young girl seeing her idol, her honey-colored skin tinged with a blush, drawing laughter from those around her.
Bai Zhanfeng raised the prize in his hand and gracefully descended the bamboo scaffold. He hadn't yet decided how he would use the Snow Toad to negotiate with Xianyue when suddenly, a clear, cold voice rang out:
"Master Bai, hand over the Snow Toad."
The wind howled, stirring the red silk. A woman in plain white robes, with long black hair cascading freely over her shoulders, stood across from him. Her delicate features were half-hidden by the billowing fabric, but her scarlet lips curved upward.
In the blink of an eye, she had leaped through the swirling air, extending a pale hand, and now stood opposite him.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone