Chapter Six: Oh, It’s My Turn
As the audience below erupted in cheers, two pure and graceful figures leapt from the crowd, their delicate footsteps landing simultaneously on the arena floor.
Duan Luoyun’s expression was calm, one hand behind her back, her gaze fixed on Nanmen Chuyao before her, as if she was all but certain to win this match.
“Is that Duan Luoyun from the Duan family?”
“This is going to be a good show. The girl opposite, Nanmen Chuyao, is said to be the adopted daughter of the Bai family; her strength shouldn’t be underestimated.”
“But Duan Luoyun has the backing of the Duan family, not to mention her inner disciple brother. I don’t think this match will be interesting.”
Some even set up betting tables below, wagering on who would win. For a moment, most bets were placed on Duan Luoyun.
Duan Luoyun glanced at the crowd, then at Nanmen Chuyao, and spoke coolly, “Looks like no one’s rooting for you.”
Nanmen Chuyao tilted her head with a smile, casting a casual glance at the betting table. “That’s alright. As long as there’s one person betting on me, that’s enough.”
Bai Jingyan, still somewhat youthful and playful, impulsively tossed a silver coin onto the table.
As the coin landed, he suddenly felt a tap on his head from behind.
Looking up, Bai Jingyan saw two figures standing quietly behind him, looking down at him from above.
These two were the elder brothers of the body he inhabited: the eldest, Bai Xiaojun, and the second brother, Bai Xiaoran.
They sat beside Bai Jingyan, signaling for him to focus on the match first; they had something to discuss with him later. As they settled, Bai Jingyan’s chest vibrated slightly.
He took out a jade slip, on which appeared a line of text:
“Family. No need to be nervous.”
A faint smile tugged at Bai Jingyan’s lips as he looked toward the arena.
At Wu Yaoqing’s signal, Duan Luoyun and Nanmen Chuyao charged at each other instantly.
Duan Luoyun raised both palms and fingers together, channeling spiritual energy into her hands as she struck toward Nanmen Chuyao.
“Torrent Palm!”
The palm wind surged like ocean waves, stirring ripples through the air.
Nanmen Chuyao met the strike head-on, swinging both palms simultaneously:
“Cloud Parting Palm!”
A sharp “bang” rang out from the arena.
The four palms collided, the reverberation vibrating through the air. Both stepped back seven or eight paces before stabilizing.
“Little girl, is this how your dear brother taught you? This palm technique feels so weak and soft.”
Nanmen Chuyao glanced at Duan Luoyun with a playful expression.
Hearing this, Duan Luoyun’s face darkened, a murderous gleam flashing in her eyes as she charged again, grappling fiercely with Nanmen Chuyao.
Witnessing this, Duan Mubian in the crowd furrowed his brows, curiosity lighting his gaze toward Nanmen Chuyao.
“How did this little girl suddenly become so formidable? And why would my little sister fall for such a clumsy provocation?”
He even recalled how, just days ago, he had been inexplicably obsessed with Nanmen Chuyao, to the point of injuring Bai Jingyan and breaking into the Bai residence, intending to take her by force.
After being thrown out by the guards that day, Duan Mubian had arrogantly shouted at the Bai estate’s entrance. Thinking back on this, his face flushed with embarrassment.
Sure enough, Duan Luoyun’s palm strikes soon lost their rhythm. The young girl’s face flushed red, sweat streaming down her forehead.
Nanmen Chuyao stepped back a few paces, then slapped Duan Luoyun’s back with the palm of her hand. Duan Luoyun fell to the ground, tumbling off the arena.
“I lost...” Duan Luoyun bit her lip, unwilling to accept defeat.
“That Nanmen Chuyao is not so simple after all.”
From the crowd, a voluptuous woman in her forties, radiating an indescribable aura, with a few strands of hair casually falling over her forehead, added an unintentional charm.
She squinted her bright eyes slightly, her red lips curling as she fixed her gaze on Nanmen Chuyao on the stage.
“Next up, Jiang Yang!”
At Wu Yaoqing’s announcement, a young man leapt onto the arena.
Jiang Yang was a retainer of the Liu family, around twenty years old. However, Nanmen Chuyao’s spiritual energy was nearly depleted, and she had no choice but to surrender.
“Wheel battle?” someone in the crowd raised an eyebrow, their tone tinged with amusement and disbelief.
“This method seems rather unsportsmanlike,” another shook their head, displeasure flickering across their brows.
“Why wasn’t this announced beforehand? It’s quite a surprise,” a third voice slowly spoke, expressing dissatisfaction and confusion over the sudden rule change.
Voices of discontent began to rise from the crowd.
Ignoring this, Wu Yaoqing continued on his own accord.
“Next, Liu Shihong!”
Hearing this, Liu Shihong’s body jolted sharply. Like an arrow released from a bow, he leapt lightly, landing steadily on the arena.
Jiang Yang’s eyes locked onto the fiery-haired youth before him, unwilling to relax or let down his guard.
At Wu Yaoqing’s signal, Liu Shihong suddenly vanished from his spot, reappearing instantly behind Jiang Yang, who was caught off guard.
“Bang!”
Liu Shihong’s kick sent Jiang Yang flying...
“Gu Yan!”
“Bang!”
A kick sent flying...
“Tao Ding!”
“Bang!”
Another kicked out...
One by one, five or six challengers met the same fate—each kicked off the arena by Liu Shihong. Even combined, their fight time was shorter than the match between Duan Luoyun and Nanmen Chuyao.
At this moment, Liu Shihong seemed like a war god descended to earth; as long as he stood there, no one could last three breaths.
Wu Yaoqing shook his head, flipping through the roster.
“Next, Bai Jingyan!”
The crowd turned their gaze toward the voice. Bai Jingyan slowly rose, stretching lazily amid puzzled looks.
He walked to the front of the crowd and directly jumped onto the arena.
Someone in the crowd gasped in disbelief.
“Wasn’t he seriously injured by Duan Mubian’s torment?”
“But the scene before us... seems to contradict the rumors entirely...”
Liu Shihong’s brows furrowed slightly in displeasure. Bai Jingyan’s nonchalant demeanor stirred an inexplicable discomfort within him.
On the arena, Bai Jingyan and Liu Shihong faced each other from opposite ends.
All eyes were fixed on the two, not with expectation, but with the detached interest of spectators watching a spectacle.
A faint smile curved Liu Shihong’s lips.
“You might lose badly.”
He then gestured toward the betting table below.
On that table, Liu Shihong’s section was piled high with a mountain of coins, while Bai Jingyan’s side held only a few silver coins—undoubtedly placed by his two elder brothers, Nanmen Chuyao, and... Bai Huaiwu...