32: Chapter 32 Martial Arts Tournament Officially Opens

The banquet for the Martial Dao Sect was set at the "Listening to the Wind Pavilion" halfway up the mountain. The three-story pavilion was built against the mountain, with no walls on any side, only light gauze as curtains. The mountain breeze blew through the hall, carrying the bitter scent of pine and cypress.

By the time you arrived, the pavilion was already more than half full.

The fifty participants were scattered about, in groups of three or five, either drinking or discussing martial arts; the atmosphere was livelier than you had imagined.

You found a seat in a corner. Xiao Wang could not be brought inside and was arranged in the courtyard, where the Disciples of the Martial Dao Sect had specially prepared a whole roasted lamb for it.

You had just sat down and hadn't even picked up your wine cup when the first person approached you.

"Miss Lin, I've long heard of your name! I am Zhao Tianhe from Liangzhou, Xiantian Peak, I use a spear." A square-faced young man cupped his hands with a warm smile. "We have all heard about your deeds in the Cheng Prefecture qualifiers; nine matches and twelve swords—you are truly a Martial Arts Prodigy!"

"You flatter me." You picked up your wine cup and took a sip.

Zhao Tianhe was clearly someone who was quick to familiarize himself with others. Ignoring your coldness, he sat down on his own and began to talk about his insights into spear techniques.

You listened for a few moments and found that his understanding of spear techniques was indeed unique, so you listened for a while longer.

Then the second person came, followed by the third, the fourth...

In less than an hour, there were seven or eight people surrounding you.

The topics ranged from martial arts to the local customs of various prefectures, then to their respective lineages, and finally, somehow, it veered toward you.

"Miss Lin is so young yet possesses such cultivation, I wonder who your Master is?" a young man in brocade asked.

"I have no Master, I Cultivate it myself."

Everyone looked at each other, the surprise in their eyes even greater.

"Then... Miss Lin, are you married?" another person asked tentatively.

You put down your wine cup and swept your gaze over him.

The man immediately shrank his neck: "Just asking, just asking."

You ignored him and got up to get some food.

Walking to the food table, you heard low discussions behind you.

"Don't waste your effort, she's an iceberg; you can't chisel through that."

"Hey, who says so? I think that look she gave me just now—"

"Looking at you? That was looking at the roast chicken behind you."

The corners of your mouth twitched, but you did not look back.

After picking up a few pieces of venison and returning to your seat, you began to consciously guide the topic.

"I heard someone say earlier that there are two Grandmasters participating this year?" you asked.

Zhao Tianhe immediately became spirited: "Yes! One is Han Chongyue, the Senior Brother of the Martial Dao Sect. He is a true natural talent; he achieved a Breakthrough to Grandmaster at twenty-six and is now at the Middle Stage of Grandmaster. It is said that his 'Heaven-Breaking Mountain Fist' can shatter a mountain wall with one punch!"

"And the other?"

"Crown Prince Xiao Chengyuan of Great Qing," a tall, thin young man replied, his voice kept very low. "The eldest son of the royal family, he Cultivates the 'Dragon Elephant Technique.' It is said that this Cultivation Technique was passed down by the founding emperor, an Earthly Immortal, and only the direct Bloodline of the royal family can Cultivate it."

"Which one of them is stronger?"

The tall, thin young man shook his head: "No one knows. They have never fought each other. But the betting pools in the city favor Han Chongyue, after all, it's Middle Stage Grandmaster versus Early Stage Grandmaster, the hard strength is right there."

You nodded and noted this information down.

Middle Stage Grandmaster, Early Stage Grandmaster.

Neither of them is someone you can touch right now.

But you are not discouraged. You are only twenty-five, while they are twenty-nine and twenty-seven. If given a Grandmaster Cultivation Technique, you might not be slower than them.

At this moment, you noticed another circle of people on the other side of the hall.

In the center of the crowd sat a woman, about twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, with an oval face, willow-leaf eyebrows, dressed in a moon-white martial robe, with a long, thin soft sword hanging at her waist. She sat upright, her chin slightly raised, and there was a cold, aloof aura about her that kept people at a distance.

"Who is that?" you asked.

"Shen Yushuang, a direct Disciple of the Qingshuang School." Zhao Tianhe leaned over. "Xiantian Peak, same as you. Among the six female participants this year, you two have the highest cultivation."

Seeming to sense your gaze, Shen Yushuang turned her head and gave you a faint look.

There was no hostility in that gaze, but there was a condescending scrutiny, as if she were examining an object that wasn't quite pleasing to her eye.

Then she withdrew her gaze and continued talking to the people around her.

You also withdrew your gaze and continued eating the venison.

If she wants to be disdainful, let her be; you had no reaction.

When the banquet ended, it was nearly midnight. You returned to your residence, and Xiao Wang was lying in the courtyard gnawing on a sheep bone. Seeing you return, it wagged its tail twice and continued gnawing.

You finished washing up, sat cross-legged on the couch, and closed your eyes, recalling the information you had collected tonight.

Fifty participants, two Grandmasters, twelve at Xiantian Peak, and the rest were all Xiantian Late Stage.

Your goal is very clear—the top ten.

As long as you enter the top ten, you can make a reasonable request to the tournament.

What you want is a Grandmaster Cultivation Technique.

For the next few days, you stayed at Martial Arts Peak, occasionally exchanging martial arts insights with other participants.

To curry favor with you, these people told you almost everything they knew. Some discussed techniques for exerting force in boxing with you, some exchanged ideas on the coordination of footwork and body techniques, and others took the initiative to share their unique insights on the circulation of True Qi.

You did not refuse anyone, listening to each one. With the dual enhancement of Eidetic Memory and being a Martial Arts Prodigy, you integrated and digested these scattered fragments of knowledge, deepening your understanding of the Dao of martial arts by another level.

Seven days later.

The Martial Arts Tournament officially began.

The opening ceremony was held at the "Martial Arts Platform" at the peak of the main summit of Martial Arts Peak—a huge stone platform a hundred zhang in circumference, carved from a single piece of mountain rock, with ancient martial arts inscriptions carved all over it, said to be the imprints left by the Sect Masters of the Martial Dao Sect through the generations.

Around the stone platform, tiered stands were built according to the mountain terrain, capable of accommodating thousands of people. Today, it was packed to capacity.

On the main stage at the very top, ten grand chairs were lined up.

The Sect Heads of the ten major Schools were gathered here.

The Sect Master of the Martial Dao Sect sat in the middle, his hair and beard white, his face lean and refined, but his eyes were as bright as stars—the aura of an Earthly Immortal was restrained, but you could still feel an invisible pressure coming from that direction, like an invisible mountain.

The other nine Sect Heads sat on both sides, each of them a Great Grandmaster level existence; any one of them could sweep through a prefecture.

And in the VIP seats below the main stage, you saw one person.

Wei Feisen.

He sat in the first row of the VIP seats as the leader of the Black Tiger Gang.

You raised your head and regained your calm.

However, just at this moment, Wei Feisen's gaze swept over the participants' seats and paused on you for a moment.

Your heart jumped violently.

One breath.

Two breaths.

His gaze moved away.

You saw him frown slightly, then pick up his teacup and take a sip, his expression as usual.

After Wei Feisen withdrew his gaze, he whispered something to the attendant beside him.

Your sharp hearing caught a few words.

"...Looks a bit like... Impossible... A farm girl... Xiantian Peak..."

He was talking about you.

But he denied his own guess.

You lowered your eyes, the corners of your mouth curling into a very slight arc.

Right, it couldn't be her.

How could that sixteen-year-old girl who was forced into a dead end by him be standing on Martial Arts Peak?

But she was standing right here.

One day, you will know.