Early dawn had not yet broken.
Sha Lifei had returned to the wing room long ago. He lay sprawled across the bed in his clothes, arms clutched around a wine jar, his snores rattling the rafters.
In the room opposite, Wang Daoxuan sat cross-legged with eyes closed in spirit preservation.
The small courtyard was shrouded in dim murk, wrapped in dead silence.
Li Yan still stood in a horse stance beside the war drum.
After an entire night of unbroken, relentless practice without sleep or rest, he had finally mastered the cadence. The reverberations of the drum and the lingering resonance of the spoken mantra blended together in perfect harmony.
Yet this was merely the foundation of the technique.
Only by turning one's own body into the drum and unleashing the Cloud Thunder Sound could one truly cross the threshold into mastery.
And that single step was something he had struggled to take all night.
A full day of total concentration and selfless contemplation had pushed Li Yan's spirit to its absolute limit. His head felt muddled and heavy, an agonizing exhaustion dragging him down. His eyes were half-open, half-closed, as if he were already asleep.
His body had reached its limit as well. Coupled with the piercing chill that crept in during the latter half of the night, both legs had grown stiff and numb, swaying unsteadily as though he might collapse at any moment.
Yet Li Yan did not activate the Daluo Dharma Body.
He had faced this predicament many times before.
Whether in internal foundation work or striking techniques, the hardest part was always surmounting that single hurdle. It was like running a long race: only by breaking through the limit time and again could one reach open, level ground.
If he used the Daluo Dharma Body now, he could effortlessly clear away his physical distress, but it would be the same as abandoning the effort halfway, forcing him to start all over again from the beginning.
So he stood waiting for the right moment.
Finally, a pale sliver of fish-belly white showed along the horizon.
Morning light shattered the darkness, splitting the sky into blue and black.
That faint ray of light stirred a spark within his muddled consciousness.
Now!
Without the slightest hesitation, seizing the momentum of that shift, Li Yan cast all thought of self aside. Both hands came slamming down violently as his abdominal muscles surged. Drawing upon the force of his diaphragm, he exhaled and opened his voice:
"Hum—!"
Boom!
The drum strike merged with the mantra, erupting like thunder.
The war drum beneath his hands shuddered with a roar and split clean open.
Li Yan felt his chest cavity convulse. His entire being became like a struck drum; from sinews and bones to muscles and internal organs, everything trembled in unison, sending a tingling numbness racing through his whole body.
The Divine Drum Cloud Thunder Sound—he had finally achieved it!
Yet by now he was already an arrow at the end of its flight. How could he withstand a force that penetrated straight into his viscera? His chest tightened, a sweet taste rose in his throat, and he pitched straight backward onto the ground.
The boom of the drum rang out like a clap of thunder, waking every soul within a hundred paces.
"Aiya!"
Sha Lifei jerked awake from his sound sleep in sheer terror. Thrashing his limbs with the wine jar locked in his arms, he tumbled off the bed with a loud crash.
Wang Daoxuan's mind also went blank, his spirit preservation nearly unravelling.
"What happened?! Did an earthquake hit?"
Sha Lifei burst through the door in a frantic rush.
Wang Daoxuan calmed his mind as well and hurried into the courtyard to investigate.
Seeing Li Yan lying unconscious on the ground, Sha Lifei rushed forward to support him, while Wang Daoxuan bent down to take his pulse.
"I'm fine."
By then, Li Yan had already drifted back to consciousness. He waved a hand with a faint smile. "Is there anything to eat? I'm starving to death..."
Even as he spoke, the Daluo Dharma Body had already begun to circulate.
The minor internal injuries vanished swiftly, and the exhaustion gripping his body was swept clean away.
***
"Yo, you still have the appetite to eat?"
When Zhang Shitong arrived at Wendao Hall, Li Yan was still eating, holding a massive bowl of oil-spill noodles and chewing cold tossed beef, squatting over the threshold and wolfing it down.
The visitor seemed incapable of speaking like a decent man. Clicking his tongue, he remarked, "Well, makes sense. Tomorrow is a matter of life and death; every meal could very well be your last."
"In a bit, I'll treat you to something proper at Qingfeng Tower."
"Keep it for yourself!"
Before Li Yan could even answer, Sha Lifei sneered from the side, "If you don't know how to speak, keep your mouth shut. Did you forget to rinse your mouth for three years, or what?"
"Heh, right back at you."
Zhang Shitong gave a cold sneer and slowly rolled up his sleeves.
Watching the two clowns, Li Yan felt a headache coming on and cut in directly, "Is the location set? Where is it?"
"The Hour of the Monkey, at the Paifang Street crossroads."
Zhang Shitong knew how to prioritize after all, his expression turning solemn as he spoke: "It's close to the ferry wharves, surrounded by brothels, gambling houses, and coaching inns. It's packed with martial artists from all walks of the jianghu."
"Looks like the Zhou family is brimming with confidence. They want to kill you in plain sight of the public just to vent that grievance."
Li Yan offered no opinion either way. "What are the rules of the ring?"
Zhang Shitong said gravely, "A wooden ring three zhang high. No edged weapons, no sorcery—bare hands and feet only. Whoever dies or falls off the platform loses."
"How big is it?"
"Ten meters square."
Upon hearing that, Li Yan sneered. "Red Fist prides itself on agility, and Zi Monkey Fist is among the most nimble of all. Setting up such a tiny ring—Zhou Bai wants a direct head-on collision?"
Zhang Shitong nodded. "That is what my father guessed as well. Zhou Bai broke through to hidden jin last year, so he holds an edge over you no matter how you look at it."
"If both sides were dancing back and forth, dodging with footwork, that's not the spectacle Zhou Pan wants to see. I fear Zhou Bai will try to overpower you right from the start!"
"My father's advice is to avoid his initial brunt. His cultivation is still shallow; he can't possibly muster hidden jin with every strike. Wait until he tires, then explode into counterattack. Only then will you have a chance at victory."
"Mm. Please pass my thanks to Elder Zhang."
Li Yan's expression remained unchanged, his gaze calm and steady.
***
After delivering the message, Zhang Shitong left in a hurry.
This match had long lost its simple flavor; it now carried far more weight than a private duel.
The feud between the Li and Zhou families, the discontent within the Divine Fist Association toward Zhou Pan, and even the open and covert rivalries stretching back toward Chang'an... throughout Xianyang, there were plenty of people waiting to see the Zhou family take a fall.
Zhang Shitong wouldn't speak of these matters openly.
Yet Li Yan, having lived two lifetimes, saw through it all naturally. In fact, these circumstances were well within his expectations.
Agreeing to a life-and-death match that day had been no impulsive rush of blood to the head.
Back when his father was alive, he had often reminded him that walking the jianghu required ringing out one's name. It was never just about hollow prestige.
In this world, there was no such thing as spiritual qi; no one trained in deep mountains for decades only to emerge one day and sweep across the world unchecked.
Legendary hermits like the Sweeper Monk simply did not exist. No matter how brilliantly one practiced their martial arts, if one lacked practical combat experience, seasoned veterans could still trick them to death.
According to Wang Daoxuan, the same was true for those in Xuanmen.
No matter how fine one's natural talent, one had to see heaven and earth, see the living masses, before one could truly see oneself.
Stepping onto the ring offered another advantage.
In this jianghu, a reputation sometimes drew trouble, but in a certain sense, it served equally well as a protective talisman.
Of course, the premise behind all of this was that he had to win.
Dong! Dong! Dong!
Inside the small courtyard, the drum sounded once more.
Unlike the day before, however, Li Yan had already mastered the Divine Drum Cloud Thunder Sound.
The beat of the drum merged with the thunderous tone, his chest cavity resonating with the war drum in broad, majestic waves. With every strike, the reverberating force penetrated deep into his fascia and internal organs, a numb, tingling tremor reminiscent of a lightning strike.
He controlled his power, training in steady increments.
For one thing, he feared breaking the remaining drums.
For another, this method was exceptionally ferocious. If he failed to govern the degree properly and repeatedly tore his fascia, he would have no choice but to rely on the Daluo Dharma Body for restoration.
No matter how precious a treasure was, it could not withstand such squandering.
The growth of hidden jin was not the work of a single day or night. Only through persistent, droplet-by-droplet accumulation, paired with the gradual transformation of the body over time, could it be commanded at will through myriad twists and turns.
What Li Yan needed to do was sharpen his technique as much as possible before tomorrow's duel, ensuring he could bring it to bear at the decisive moment.
"Overpower me with raw strength?"
"Can he even press me down!"
After another round of training, Li Yan recalled the Zhou family's scheme and sneered inwardly. Shifting his torso sideways, he threw out his right palm in a slashing angle.
Thirty-Six Row Hands: Overlord at Ease.
Rumble...
The water-filled stone trough was struck squarely by his palm, sliding half a meter to the side.
Only after it ground to a halt did the water within erupt upward with a roar.
"Aiya, my fish!"
Wang Daoxuan's face instantly filled with distress.
Yet when he rushed over to inspect the trough, he discovered to his astonishment that the several red fish inside were swimming cheerfully back and forth, completely unharmed...
Outside the gate, deep within the old alley.
A short man crouched at the corner of the wall. After eavesdropping on the drumbeats for a long time, he finally grew impatient and hurried away...
***
"Beating a drum?"
Inside a private room at Yuhe Teahouse, Yuan Qu raised an eyebrow.
"That's right, beating it non-stop."
The speaker was the very same man who had just been listening outside. Wearing an ingratiating smile, he said, "How could this little one dare lie to Chief Yuan? The neighbors all say he's been banging on it continuously from yesterday right through today. Who knows what kind of madness has seized that kid."
"All right, all right, get lost!"
A burly man beside him waved a hand in annoyance.
His skin was dark, and he wore a red robe with a flower pinned to his small cap. He was none other than Zheng Heibei, chief of the Iron Saber Gang.
Having dismissed the scout, Zheng Heibei cut a sidelong glance toward Yuan Qu and said in a low voice, "Hey, Yuan, what kind of trick do you think that kid is pulling?"
"I heard he's trailing behind some sorcerer. Could he be planning to try spirit possession?"
"Heh, are you scared?"
Yuan Qu took a sip of tea, his tone dripping with mockery.
Although both hailed from the same master, their gangs controlled the east and west sides of Xianyang, clashing constantly in ordinary times. Coupled with their clashing temperaments, neither could stand the sight of the other.
Stung by Yuan Qu's ridicule, Zheng Heibei snapped angrily, "What do I have to be scared of? The one stirring up trouble was clearly that coward Meng Haicheng. If he had told me earlier, I'd have slaughtered that kid on the spot—we wouldn't be stuck with all this trouble now."
"If you ask me, forget fighting in the ring tomorrow. Tonight, I'll hire a sorcerer to work a ritual and curse him to death!"
Though his words sounded brash, Zheng Heibei's eyes remained remarkably cool, locked on Yuan Qu as though searching for any tell.
Yuan Qu glanced at him and sneered, "What are you probing me for? Do you really think nobody knows about that Jiangzuo sorcerer you're harboring in your nest?"
"Those little stunts you pulled—could they ever slip past the eyes of real experts? People only turned a blind eye out of respect for Master's face."
"And that Beggars' Gang out at the mass graves—why on earth did you provoke them? Since this matter has already reached the ring, any underhanded tricks will only muck things up..."
"I don't need you lecturing me!"
Zheng Heibei barked back, entirely ill-tempered.
Seeing his stubborn attitude, a flicker of irritation flared in Yuan Qu's eyes. "Zheng, you'd better not make a mess right now. I'm sure as hell not doing this to help you."
With that, he rose, stepped over to the window, and clasped his hands behind his back as he gazed outside, muttering, "Remember this: if that old bastard falls, neither of us will have good days ahead!"
"The waters in this Xianyang City run far deeper than you think..."
Down below lay the crossroads of Old Paifang Street.
Dusk was approaching, and a crowd of carpenters was hard at work. The towering wooden ring was already taking shape, surrounded three layers deep by idle busybodies watching the excitement.
Two ruffians in the crowd were laughing and bantering:
"Third Brother, who do you think is going to win tomorrow?"
"Pfft, who cares who wins, as long as it's a good brawl."
"Right! It'd be best if they beat each other's brains out..."
Chapter 44