46: Chapter 46 The Final Competition: Chen Xuan Wins the Championship

As the morning light first broke through, Chen Xuan opened his eyes to the sound of gongs and drums thundering outside.

He rolled over and sat up; the wound on his shoulder no longer bothered him. He moved his arms a couple of times, feeling a sense of lightness deep within his bones.

He had practiced his sword until the third watch last night and was woken up before the fifth watch this morning by the copper bells under the eaves. They jingled whenever the wind blew; annoying as they were, they certainly cleared his head.

He put on a black martial arts outfit, cinched his waist with a jade belt, and pulled on his black boots briskly. Reaching out, he took the wooden sword off the wall and gave it a test weight.

He wouldn't need this thing for the arena, but he was used to touching it before heading out, much like washing one's hands before a meal.

Pushing the door open, the small courtyard was quiet. Zhao Hongling and the others hadn't come to pick him up yet, likely afraid that coming too early would cause gossip. He grinned, thinking that this group of people was quite considerate.

The streets were already packed with people, all surging toward the Imperial City's drill grounds.

Children darted back and forth, an old man selling candied haws shouted until his voice cracked, and several Jianghu men carrying weapon cases discussed as they walked:

"I heard today is the final round. If Chen Xuan wins, the Empress will personally bestow the Jade Crown!"

"Isn't that right? He fought the last few matches cleanly and decisively. Even Leng Shuang said his Moves have become steady."

"Heh, do you think he really relied on women to get to the top?"

"Shut your mouth. Seventy-three corpses were laid out after that battle at the abandoned manor. Who could have blocked those blades for him?"

Chen Xuan listened but didn't join in. He simply tucked his hands into his sleeves and walked forward leisurely. Someone recognized him and immediately fell silent, only for the crowd to erupt a moment later:

"It's him! He really came!"

"Look, look! It's that black outfit!"

"He doesn't look that formidable. How is he so good at fighting?"

He remained deaf to the comments and didn't stop, pushing through the crowd and heading straight for the east entrance of the drill grounds.

The arena had long been set up, thirty feet high and paved with bluestone slabs. Flagpoles stood at the four corners, embroidered with the four large characters for 'Great Zhou Talent Selection'.

The surrounding stands were packed to capacity. Nobles, martial artists, and commoners were all mixed together. Colorful flags fluttered, and the noise was like a bustling marketplace.

As soon as Chen Xuan showed his face, someone shouted, "Chen Xuan is here!"

With that one shout, the entire venue went momentarily silent before exploding into a commotion.

Some clapped, some whistled, and others yelled, "Don't kneel! Brother, even if you win, don't kneel!"

He looked up and scanned the area. Leng Shuang sat in the front row with her arms crossed, her face expressionless, but her eyes were locked onto him.

Zhao Hongling, sitting nearby, had already stood up. She waved at him with her hands on her hips, her feet stomping as if she were a harbinger of doom.

Dugu Xue was in the VIP area. Her white robe made her look as if she were carved from snow. Seeing him look over, she gave a slight nod.

Liu Ruyan was hidden behind the curtain of the backstage, only half her face visible. She fanned herself lightly, her eyes curving into crescents with a smile.

Chen Xuan cupped his fists to the crowd as a return of courtesy. He didn't speak, walking straight up the side steps and onto the arena stage.

The wooden boards thudded under his feet; every step seemed to beat against people's hearts.

His opponent in the first match was a burly man wielding twin hammers, known as 'Shattering Stele Hand'. He tried to overwhelm Chen Xuan with pure strength from the start.

The hammer shadows flew and the wind howled, causing fine cracks to appear on the stage surface.

Chen Xuan remained calm and unhurried, dodging left and right, specifically choosing the moments when his opponent was catching his breath to deliver close-range strikes.

In the third exchange, he spotted an opening. He lunged forward with a stepping Move, brushed his fingers together across the bridge of his nose, and struck the man's ribs with a palm.

The man let out a muffled groan, his twin hammers hit the ground, and he stumbled back three steps before cupping his fists to concede.

The second match was against a swordsman with sharp Moves, following the Southern Style Quick Sword path.

The two exchanged over twenty rounds, the sword tip grazing the edge of Chen Xuan's clothes several times.

He never used a killing blow, only using clever force to deflect. When the opponent's rhythm faltered, he suddenly changed his step into a pivot, circled behind him, and gave a light kick to the back of the knee. The swordsman dropped to one knee and could not rise again.

In the third match, it was three against one. This was the rule: a gauntlet was set before the final round, specifically picking the toughest opponents.

The three were all famous experts: one used a long spear, one used Judge's Pens, and one used a chain hammer. They coordinated perfectly, their offensive coming like a tide.

One moment the spear tip aimed for his throat, the next the pen point lunged toward his solar plexus, while the hammer shadow swept in from the diagonal rear, leaving him nowhere to retreat.

Voices from below the stage began to jeer: "Chen Xuan can't hold on!"

"He must have used up all his strength in the first two matches!"

"I guess this is all the skill he has!"

Yet Chen Xuan fought with increasing stability. His footwork shifted between fast and slow, his palm winds grew hot, and his old shoulder injury began to burn slightly, which instead sparked a surge of ruthlessness.

On the fifth exchange, he suddenly accelerated. He first parried the long spear with the edge of his palm, spun and ducked to avoid the chain hammer, and tapped the shaft of the Judge's Pen with his fingertip. Borrowing the force to leap up, he twisted his waist in mid-air and threw the pen-user out of the arena with a back-toss.

While the remaining two were still stunned, he lunged forward again, grabbing the spearman's wrist to seize the weapon with his left hand while pushing out with his right. The spear handle swept across their shins. Both fell together and could not get back up.

The entire venue was deathly silent, followed by a burst of cheers that sounded like a mountain collapsing or a tsunami hitting.

Children jumped up and clapped, old men's beards shook with excitement, and even those who had questioned him before shut their mouths, their faces filled with nothing but admiration.

The opponent for the finals finally appeared.

The man wore the robes of a Northern Border Grandmaster, draped in a silver-trimmed white cloak, and held a heavy cold-iron sword. His steps were steady; with every pace he took, the ground seemed to vibrate slightly.

He was the number one of the younger generation in the Northern Border, named Tuoba Lie. Three years ago at the border, he had slain three enemy generals with a single sword strike, earning him great fame.

Standing below the stage now, he looked up at Chen Xuan and spoke in a booming voice: "I know your fame has risen recently, but the martial arts of our Great Zhou do not allow those of unknown origin to steal high positions! Today, I shall test you on behalf of the Righteous Path of the world!"

As soon as these words were spoken, the crowd below split into two factions. Some agreed: "Well said! We can't let some rogue practitioner ride over the orthodox schools!"

Others countered: "He fought his way up with his own skill, who do you think you are?"

Chen Xuan stood in the center of the arena, the wind ruffling his clothes.

He watched Tuoba Lie ascend the stage step by step. He wasn't annoyed, nor did he smile; he simply said softly, "Victory and defeat lie in one's fists and feet, not in one's origin."

As the words fell, Tuoba Lie had already drawn his sword.

The sword light was like snow, hacking straight down. Chen Xuan dodged to the side and swept out a palm strike close to the ground, the palm wind kicking up stone chips into the air.

Tuoba Lie snorted coldly. His sword momentum didn't change as he transitioned into a horizontal slash, forcing Chen Xuan into the air. Chen Xuan twisted his body mid-air, tapped the spine of the sword with his toe, and used the force to leap backward, creating distance.

The two went back and forth; within ten Moves, neither had gained the upper hand.

Tuoba Lie's sword style was fierce and powerful, every strike carrying the sound of breaking air; Chen Xuan used softness to overcome hardness, specifically looking for openings. The spectators held their breath, even forgetting to cheer.

On the eleventh Move, Tuoba Lie suddenly unleashed a killing Move. The sword tip feinted, but the real power was in his feet. The entire arena actually vibrated slightly. This was the Northern Border's Mountain-Shaking Steps, rumored to be able to shatter an opponent's bones and tendons.

Chen Xuan's feet went numb, and he almost lost his balance. However, his reaction was extremely fast. He went with the momentum to crouch down, pressed a palm to the ground, and used the counterforce to spring up. Simultaneously, he brushed his index and middle fingers across the bridge of his nose, and the Nine Yang True Qi within his body instantly flowed through his limbs.

He moved.

With three steps, he was so fast he left only afterimages. Before Tuoba Lie could retract his sword momentum, Chen Xuan had already circled behind him.

The crowd only saw Chen Xuan raise his hand and let the edge of his palm fall lightly on Tuoba Lie's back. The force wasn't heavy, but it sent him staggering forward two steps. The heavy sword slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a loud clang.

The entire venue was silent for two breaths.

Then, the applause was like thunder.

Tuoba Lie stood still with his head bowed, then slowly turned around and cupped his fists in a salute: "I have lost. I am truly convinced."

Chen Xuan returned the salute without saying another word.

The cheers below the stage were deafening. Leng Shuang finally uncrossed her arms, her fingertips trembling slightly.

Zhao Hongling jumped up and shouted, "I knew you could win!" Dugu Xue's lips curled slightly, a hint of respect flashing in her eyes. Liu Ruyan stepped out from behind the curtain, her folding fan closing as she tapped it lightly against her palm twice.

High upon the platform, Murong Wan had already stood up. Today she wore a bright yellow dragon robe, her Nine Dragon and Nine Phoenix Crown shining brilliantly. Her cinnabar brush lay aside; her gaze had never left the arena from start to finish.

Seeing Chen Xuan emerge victorious, the corners of her lips moved slightly, and she immediately waved her hand.

The master of ceremonies sang out: "The Champion—Chen Xuan! Please step forward to be personally bestowed the Jade Crown by Your Majesty!"

Chen Xuan straightened his lapels, walked steadily down the arena, and ascended the steps of the high platform.

He stopped three steps before the top, cupped his fists, and said, "I thank Your Majesty for establishing this arena to discuss martial arts and promote the heroic spirit of our Great Zhou."

The master of ceremonies reminded him in a low voice: "You should kneel to receive the bestowal."

He did not Move.

Murong Wan looked at him, her gaze calm. After a moment, she personally walked down the steps, holding a Jade Crown in her hands. It was translucent white, carved with cloud patterns surrounding a sun—the exclusive possession of victors throughout the generations. She raised her hands and personally placed it on his head.

Her fingertips brushed past his forehead hair as she said in a low voice, "You truly are... different."

Chen Xuan looked up and met her eyes for an instant. Her gaze was deep, containing admiration, testing, and an unhidable expectation.

He smiled slightly but did not answer.

She turned to return to the palace, her skirt fluttering. She took one last look back to see him standing amidst the multitude, draped in red and decorated with honors, surrounded by cheers, yet his expression was calm, as if nothing had happened.

Chen Xuan stood where he was, cheers rising and falling in his ears, a sea of heads moving before his eyes.

Leng Shuang watched him from afar, Zhao Hongling pushed through the crowd trying to rush up, Dugu Xue raised a cup from a distance in a toast, and Liu Ruyan smiled behind her hand backstage.

He raised his hand and touched the Jade Crown atop his head.

It was ice-cold.