The tournament continued, the arena buzzing with energy that felt almost electric. The cheering of spectators rose and fell like waves, mingled with the occasional gasp or muttered speculation. The air was thick with tension; every movement, every challenge carried weight.
External disciples, confident and brash, began their foray into the inner disciples' ranks. They targeted the girls first, then the weaker-looking boys, testing their strength against the seasoned participants. Yet, one by one, they were swiftly defeated. Each loss drew a mix of murmurs, gasps, and excited whispers from the crowd, like wind rustling through dry leaves. The pattern was becoming obvious — the inner disciples, though smaller in number, were far stronger than many had anticipated.
From the edge of the gathering, a tall boy of no less than fifteen strode forward. His long legs carried him with a natural confidence that immediately drew eyes, his posture commanding attention.
He fixed his gaze greedily on Cin Yan, and without hesitation, he made his way to her. "Miss," he said, voice smooth and teasing, "how about a bet?"
Cin Yan's eyes lifted casually to meet his. There was no fear, no surprise, only that calm, effortless confidence she always carried. A faint smile curved her lips, elegant and teasing. "Mm? What bet?" she asked, her tone deceptively light, as if indulging a child.
The tall boy hesitated, swallowing against the tension rising in his chest. "If I win… you will have dinner with me tonight," he said, his smile strained but still trying to radiate confidence. He glanced sideways at the crowd, hoping to garner approval, or at least respect.
Sha Tian, who had been observing from nearby, stepped forward immediately, a storm gathering on his face. "How dare you! Who do you think you are? You—" His voice grew louder with every word, but before he could finish, Cin Yan raised a hand, a small gesture that commanded silence. Her gaze, sharp and unwavering, fell on him.
"And what if I win?" she said softly, almost lazily. "Do you have anything worth more than your life?" Her words, though quiet, cut sharper than any blade, leaving the boy momentarily stiff.
With deliberate care, the boy revealed something small in his hand — a translucent wu, gleaming like jade under the arena lights. "I have this," he said, lifting it slightly for all to see. "I won it as a first prize in a previous tournament. Surely you know its value, Miss."
Sha Tian's jaw tightened. His eyes darkened as he scoffed. "A mere Barrier Jade Wu? If I asked my father, he could acquire dozens of these! Do you truly believe this is enough for a bet? Heh. Leave now, or I'll grant you the beating you're begging for."
The tall boy ignored him completely. His eyes remained locked on Cin Yan, unwavering. "Come challenge me," he said simply. There was no fear in his voice, only a confident expectation, as if he were already imagining victory.
Cin Yan's smile widened slightly, teasing and cold at once. "It's not enough. Brother Tian has already spoken. You may leave."
For a moment, the tall boy lingered, head tilted slightly as if considering a new strategy. A faint, calculating smile appeared on his face. "Not enough, perhaps. Then… what if I first defeat that person?" He subtly gestured toward someone in the crowd.
Every eye followed the movement of his hand. Whispers began circulating like wildfire. Cin Yan's expression shifted subtly; a cruel, triumphant glint sparked in her eyes. She leaned back slightly, voice soft but edged with sharpness. "Very well," she said, her tone calm but carrying an unmistakable hint of approval.
The tall boy nodded once and moved toward the stage, steps steady and deliberate. Sha Tian's hands clenched into fists, his muscles taut with anger and confusion. "Why would you agree?" he muttered under his breath
"Oh, Brother Tian. Do you really think he can beat me? I only agreed because of what he said — nothing more." Sha Tian's frustration deepened, his jaw tightening as he sank into his seat, gritting his teeth. Beside him, Mo Rian said nothing, her face unreadable, her gaze sharp and calculating as it followed the proceedings.
The instructor's voice suddenly cut through the murmurs, clear and authoritative. "An external disciple wishes to challenge an inner disciple. Fu Yang, please step forward."
The arena erupted in collective disbelief. "Huh… him again?" someone muttered. Murmurs and whispers ricocheted through the stands. Some leaned forward, curiosity glinting in their eyes. Others recoiled slightly, remembering Fu Yang's previous bouts — victories marked by a calm, calculating ruthlessness that left opponents shocked and spectators uneasy.
Fu Yang rose from the sidelines slowly, deliberately, every movement measured. His expression was calm, almost indifferent, yet the sharpness in his eyes betrayed a mind analyzing everything around him. He approached the stage.
Cin Yan leaned slightly forward, her eyes glinting with anticipation. Her fingers lightly tapped on her lap, a small signal of interest. Sha Tian's jaw twitched, his anger barely contained, while Mo Rian remained impassive, silently observing every detail.
The tall boy stepped forward, puffing his chest and raising his voice to address Fu Yang. "You're a disgrace to the inner disciples! Coward! Fight with me seriously in this match if you still have any shame left!" His words were loud, brash, designed to provoke and impress the watching crowd.
Yet Fu Yang did not respond. He ignored the provocation entirely, walking directly toward the instructor. The boy's smirk faltered, confusion crossing his features for the first time.
"What, are you now hiding behind the instructor?" the tall boy said, voice tinged with irritation. "Don't worry. I'm not here to beat you like a dog — I'm here to teach you how a real warrior fights." He raised his head proudly, glancing toward Cin Yan, seeking acknowledgment and approval.
Then Fu Yang spoke, his voice calm, flat, and chilling in its control. "Instructor… I surrender."
The words fell like a stone into the crowd. Silence crashed over the arena. Even the air seemed to stop moving for a moment. The tall boy blinked, disbelief etched on his face. "What? Are you insane? Retarded?"
Fu Yang's gaze was unwavering, dark and intense. "Instructor, mind your words. If I wish to fight, I fight. If I wish to surrender, I surrender. You are not here to stop me. Announce it."
The instructor's face tightened, a frown cutting deep across his features. The entire arena held its collective breath. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his voice, ensuring everyone could hear. "Fu Yang has conceded. The challenger wins."
The reaction was immediate and chaotic. Shouts, gasps, and murmurs erupted in all directions. "Whaaaaat?!" "Impossible!" "He surrendered? But why?" " does he have no shame".
The tall boy: what the fu**"