016 Wind VS s

  The third day of the festival.

  For me, barely my fourth day since arriving in this world.

  Gu Jie walked beside me, clutg Ren Jingyi’s new home like it was a sacred artifact. I had mao procure a new fishbowl—ohe size of a human head, plete with a wire attat that allowed for easy hand-carrying. If I adjusted the strap properly, I could even wear it like a bag.

  I paid good money for this thing.

  But right now, Gu Jie was the one carrying it, gripping the bottom as if she expected Ren Jingyi to spill out at any moment. Her knuckles were turning white.

  She had taken it as a challenge. “Master, wait for me!”

  Because of that, it took us a bit loo walk from the entrao the bleachers.

  I sighed. “Just let me carry her—” I stopped myself. Gu Jie was too stubborn. If I insisted, she’d probably just double down. “You know what? Fine. From now on, she’s your responsibility.”

  Gu Jie’s eyes widened. “Y-Yes, Master! I won’t fail you!”

  I still had no idea what exactly Gu Jie wanted from me, but since she wasn’t being a nuisance, I let her be.

  Follower or not, having a sidekick like her had been a big help.

  We settled on the bleachers, waiting for today’s event to tinue.

  Today, the eight tenders would fight for a spot in the quarter-finals. The energy in the air alpable, buzzing with excitement as people filled the seats, chattering about their favorite fighters. But while the rest of the audience was busy pg bets and making predis, I had time to kill.

  I reached into my Item Box and pulled out a book.

  Gu Jie had retrieved a sizable amount of them for me just this m. Acc to her, I should expect even more the day after tomorrow. Holy, I had no clue where she was getting these books from, and frankly, I wasn’t sure I wao know.

  The book I was reading was a mundane history book about Yellon City.

  Apparently, this pce used to be a dump.

  I flipped through the pages, skimming through passages about its past. In fact, among all the tis uhe Empire’s rule, Riverfall had been the poorest. That expined why people here treated the Yelloival like the gra event of the year—eai was scarce, and this robably one of the few things people had to look forward to.

  There wasn’t muformation about the other tis, though. The book seemed to have been written by a migrant from a pce called Deepmoor ti, aerritory of the Empire.

  This was only my sed book, and so far, so good.

  Gu Jie sat beside me, staring at Ren Jingyi as she secured the fishbowl on her p. The little goldfish swam in circles, pletely unaware of the tension building around us.

  After a moment, Gu Jie turo me with an apologetic expression. “Apologies, Master. I was uo procure you the tickets for all fhts.”

  I g her and shrugged. “That’s uandable.”

  Tickets for the eight peting cultivators had been sold separately. In total, there would be four bouts today, but Gu Jie had only mao get us tickets for two of them. sidering how hyped this part of the festival was, that was already an achievement.

  “So, who’s showing?” I asked, turning a page in my book while keeping half an ear on her response.

  Gu Jie perked up, eager to provide an answer. “An Isotion Path disciple and a Young Master Feng Yi of the Wind .”

  I hummed in thought.

  “Not much is known about the Isotion Path disciple,” she tinued. “I think it will be a atch, or at least that’s what the odds say in the gambling houses.”

  "Pce your bets! Pce your bets! Feed the ballot while you still !"

  A loud voied through the arena as attendants moved through the bleachers, distributing small slips of paper. I caught one as it was handed my way, iing it. Betting, huh? That could be fun.

  All around me, people scribbled names on their ballots, slipping in s before folding them shut. The betting house had its own system—each folded ballot was marked with a touch of qi before being collected. I had no idea how that worked, but it must have made fraud difficult.

  Below the arena, the two fighters had already taken their pces.

  "Wele, huests, to the first bout of the quarterfinals!" The Enforcer ag as referee raised his arms, hyping up the crowd. "On my left, we have Young Master Feng Yi of the Wind ! Famous for their unparalleled wind spells and swordsmanship!"

  Feng Yi smirked and brandished his sword, his movements light and fluid. He made sure to put on a show, his bde gleaming as it cut through the air in a dazzling dispy. The crowd responded with cheers and murmurs of excitement.

  "And on my right—Fan Shi of the Isotion Path Sect!" The Enfestured to the other side of the arena. "Famed for their self-mastery and varied, mysterious methods!"

  Fan Shi, in trast, stood still. She exuded an uling calm, her presenuted it was almost eerie. Her robes, dark and unembellished, seemed to blend into the shadows cast by the arena. No fir, no theatrics—just silence.

  I scrawled a o my ballot, slipped in a few gold pieces, and folded the paper shut before handing it to the attendant.

  With a practiced motion, they i with a touch of qi before moving on.

  "Final call! The betting period is now closed!" Atendant announced, marking the official start of the match.

  The attendant took my folded paper slip, his fingers briefly glowing with a faint trace of qi as he i with my bet. I watched as he walked over to the twe wooden ballot boxes—one for each tender—and dropped my slip into the one beled Feng Yi.

  The way they facilitated gambling here was a bit more sophisticated than I’d expected. Uhe crude bookie systems I was familiar with in my past life, there seemed to be a whole process to ensure fairness and security. It piqued my curiosity.

  "Hey, Jie," I said, turning to Gu Jie, who was still carefully holding Ren Jingyi’s fishbowl in her p.

  "Yes, Master?" she answered, her attention momentarily shifting away from the goldfish.

  "This is my first time betting. But how do they firm the winners of the bet?"

  Gu Jie straightened up, taking the question seriously. "The attendants will write the amount you bet on the slip of paper. Then, the qi they use to mark it carries detailed information about you—your eyes, hair, height, and even the color of your skin. It even records small details like freckles, scars, or moles. When you e to cim your prize, they’ll verify the information stored in the qi and match it to your appearance. As long as it matches, you get your winnings. Simple."

  Huh. So qi could store and transmit information in its purest form.

  I’d heard of using qi for bat, healing, and even reinf the body, but this was something different. The implications of this fasated me. If qi could be used as a kind of data carrier, did that mean there were methods to encode even more plex information?

  I was almost tempted to experiment with my own mana to see if it had simir properties, but this was her the right por the right time.

  For now, I had a touro watd a bet to (hopefully) win.

  Fan Shi stood at one end of the arena, a vision of chilliy. She was the kind of jade beauty poets wrote about—skin as pale as fresh snowfall, features sharp and unreadable, her dark eyes carrying an abyssal stillness. Yet, despite her serene appearahere was an unmistakable lethality in the way she carried herself. She did not simply stand—she coiled, like a viper lying in wait.

  s slithered from the loose sleeves of her robes, dark and polished, winding like serpents that hungered for prey. Even from my seat, I could se—the promise of violence. A subtle, suffog pressure in the air that prickled against my skin, whispering danger.

  “Iing…”

  Across from her, Feng Yi crouched low, entering his fighting stah practiced ease. His white and blue robes fluttered as the wind respoo his presence. He wielded his sword in a reverse grip, the edge gleaming uhe daylight, his expression fident but nant. The air around him stirred, f invisible currents, as if preparing to unleash a storm at his and.

  The moment stretched between them, sile electric.

  Then, in a dispy of martial de, Fan Shi cupped her hand and performed a martial artist’s bow. A measured, deliberate motion, her expression unged.

  Seeing this, Feng Yi followed suit, raising his free hand in respect before returning to his stance.

  The Enforcer overseeing the match stepped forward, his voice ringing across the arena.

  “Out of bounds mea! Surrender is an option! Drawing first blood, rendering your foe immobile for three seds, and general incapacitation means victory!” His gaze swept over both tenders. “tenders! Are you ready?!”

  Fan Shi whipped her s, and they coiled around her arms like a pair of armaus. The sound they made—k, k, k—echoed ominously in the arena. Across from her, Feng Yi turned his sword in his grip, holding it properly now, no more flourishes. His stance lowered, his body taut like a drawn bow.

  The Enforcer raised his hand.

  “FIGHT!”

  Ah, shit… I robably going to lose my bet.

  A memory resurfaced, hitting me like a deyed realization. I knew I reized her. Fan Shi was the same Isotion Path disciple from the first day of the festival, the one I had almost made eye tact with. Back then, I had the distinct feeling she had noticed something in me, but ultimately chose to let it go—probably assuming I was just another ordinary guy.

  My gut told me she wasn’t someone I should have bet against.

  The moment Feng Yi flickered into a gust of wind and beheaded Fan Shi, I knew she had already won.

  Because my high Perception stat told me the truth—Feng Yi had hit nothing. Just an afterimage.

  Fan Shi reappeared just behind him. Her s slithered like living things, and before Feng Yi could react, both his feet were ensnared. He barely had a moment tister what had happened before—

  BANG!

  A brutal upward kick struck his gut, lifting him into the air like a ragdoll.

  Fan Shi burst upwards, matg his ast with effortless grace. In midair, she maneuvered herself behind Feng Yi, moving almost too fast for the ordinary eye to follow.

  Something about this bo looked familiar.

  Where had I seen this before?

  Nah. Must have been my imagination.

  Fan Shi twisted in the air, her s ing around Feng Yi’s limbs, tightening like strig snakes. pletely bound, the Wind Young Master had no ce to ter.

  Then, with a sharp spin—

  She pile-drove him into the ground.

  A tense silence followed.

  Slowly, the dust settled, revealing the aftermath of the match.

  Feng Yi y embedded in the arena floor, body twisted at an awkward angle, either unscious or dead. Fan Shi stood above him, untouched, expression unreadable. Her s slithered bader her sleeves as if they had never moved in the first pce.

  The Enforcer wasted no time. “FAN SHI OF THE ISOLATION PATH SECT IS VICTORIOUS!”

  Then, with equal urgency, he called for medics—or whatever the xianxia equivalent of them was. Several robed figures rushed onto the field, moving with the efficy of people who had seen far worse injuries than this.

  The moment Fan Shi stepped away, the medics swarmed Feng Yi, cheg his dition. One of them pced their hand on his chest, likely using some kind of diagnostic qi teique, while another fished out a small jade bottle—probably some kind of recovery elixir.

  The crowd went haywire.

  Some cheered for the spectacle. Others roared in triumph, celebrating their winnings from the bet. And some—probably those who had bet on Feng Yi—groaned in bitter defeat. But even among the losing crowd, the sheer hype of the battle had swept them along, and I could hear excited murmurs about Fan Shi’s teiques, her eerie movements, and the sheer brutality of that final sm.

  I exhaled.

  “Welp,” I muttered, rubbing my temples. “There goes my money.”