Arena Duel

Today, the city of Xuzhou was bustling. A duel was about to take place. Zheng Mukai, chief escort of the Guangxing Escort Agency in Kaifeng Prefecture, was scheduled to fight an open match on the city's challenge arena against Ge Shi, fifth-in-command of the Xiayi Sect in Huai'an. Both men were notable figures with a recognized reputation in the jianghu. Zheng Mukai was thirty-five years old and known by all as the "Three-Armed Sword of Kaifeng." Of course, he didn't practice any "three-sword style"; he had only one blade, but his swift swordplay was executed with such blinding speed that it made onlookers feel as if he possessed three arms. Ge Shi was no pushover either. At thirty-one years of age, he bore the moniker "Scorpion Tail Spear." His seven-chi patterned spear was wielded with mercurial variation and fierce lethality, making his name renowned throughout the Huai River basin. Though the two had never been friends, there was no reason for bad blood between them, let alone signing a life-and-death waiver to duel upon an arena. Yet today, fight they would—and fight they must. Why? It wasn't hard to guess: when two men fight to the death, it is almost always over money or a woman. Money, they had plenty to spend. Naturally, the answer was a woman. Now, women come in many varieties. Both Zheng Mukai and Ge Shi had wives back home, and their wives were certainly women. But today, they clearly weren't fighting for those wives far away. They were fighting for a woman whose face neither of them had even seen. Her courtesan name was Chu Xue, and she was the premier courtesan of Qiliu Youran, the largest pleasure house in Xuzhou. In those days, brothels were divided into strict social tiers. Second- and third-rate establishments weren't worth mentioning, as they generally lacked elaborate formalities; but visiting a first-class pleasure house was governed by a sea of rules. Any establishment capable of making a name for itself across an entire region was bound to have formidable backing. Consequently, ordinary people had zero chance of ever laying eyes on its top beauty. You couldn't just swagger in with a pouch of silver, open your big mouth, and demand to bed the top courtesan. Sorry, but that wasn't an option. For men of status, frequenting a courtesan house required refinement and elegance. They couldn't simply barge into a room and lie down like commoners visiting cheap brothels—to their eyes, that was the behavior of beasts. True dignitaries, scholars, and men of refined tastes sought far more than mere physical release; before that, they needed to find mental gratification. Thus, if you wanted to see the top courtesan of such an upscale brothel, you had to "request an audience," much like showing up for a job interview. Regardless of whether she ultimately deigned to meet you, you first had to lay down your silver to prove to the madam that you were willing to spend. Next, you would generally be invited into a parlor for tea, where the young lady would observe you from the shadows. If you looked unpresentable, lumpy as a crooked melon, or spoke and acted like an uncultured brute... then essentially, you could drink your tea and head straight home. Only if your looks, demeanor, and overall poise passed muster would there be a next step: the young lady would come out to chat with you. Of course, it was strictly conversation. If you laid hands on her the moment she emerged, or looked like an impatient monkey, she would turn on her heel and leave. You had to stay reserved and composed. Even though you were frequenting a brothel, you had to act as upright and unmoved as Liu Xiahui, discussing zithers, weiqi, calligraphy, painting, and romantic poetry with her... Only then would she begin pouring you tea and wine, casting coy glances and flirting. This banter would drag on well into the dead of night. Only when she took the initiative to signal her maidservant to pass word outside, shut the doors, and formally "invite" you into the inner chambers to rest could you finally step inside and achieve the true purpose of your visit. This entire process—which modern folks might view as utterly redundant, like taking off your pants just to fart—was, to the high society of that era, an indispensable prelude that surpassed foreplay itself. In fact, if you ponder it carefully, there was a certain logic to it. When something is gained too easily, the happiness you feel upon enjoying it is greatly diminished. Even when taking a dump, the relief you feel when relieving a mild urge cannot compare in the slightest to the overwhelming bliss of finally going after holding it in until your pants are nearly soiled. How could the satisfaction of a rich, handsome heir sleeping with his goddess after a single day compare to that of a devoted simp who finally bedded her after groveling for an entire year? Thus, deliberately creating obstacles for oneself and savoring that anxious thrill of possible failure or rejection represented a higher plane—a clever trick to coax one's brain into secreting more endorphins. Of course, having said all that, you still needed genuine clout to play this game; without it, no matter how hard you tried, you would most likely end up with nothing. Digressing a bit... back to the main story. What had actually happened between Zheng Mukai and Ge Shi? With the explanation above, the story becomes rather simple: both men had visited Qiliu Youran the previous evening, seeking an audience with Miss Chu Xue. The madam ushered them both into a parlor to drink tea together. In the end, Chu Xue never showed her face. She merely watched them from behind a partition curtain for a short while, uttered the phrase, "A single flake does not divide between two valleys," and instructed the madam to see them out. Perplexed after being escorted out, the two men pleaded with the madam to ask Miss Chu Xue what she had meant. Seeing that both had paid handsome sums and were reputable figures in the martial world, the madam went back to inquire. Chu Xue wrote down those same six characters and passed out a slip of paper. So what had she truly meant? "A single flake" undoubtedly referred to herself—after all, "flake" stood for snow, her namesake. Taken literally, "does not divide between two valleys" seemed to suggest, "My single snowflake cannot fall into both of your mountain valleys." Yet that was not the case at all. She had embedded a word puzzle here: the character for "valley," yu, was actually a play on "pair," ou, for two whole men were seated right there. Chu Xue was clever and sharp. One glance at their robes, boots, sleeves, and waistbands told her they were both married men whose wives took meticulous care of them. The omitted radical in "pair" was meant to remind them of the wives waiting at home; deliberately leaving out the "person" radical was an admonition urging them to act like proper human beings and show some conscience. The so-called "A single flake does not divide between two valleys" did not mean she refused to split herself between them; rather, Chu Xue was saying that she had no desire to break apart two harmonious couples. That... was what she had intended. Yet Zheng Mukai and Ge Shi saw it quite differently. Both men suffered from a glaring lack of education. Did they honestly think a woman capable of becoming a top courtesan lacked intellect? Had women been allowed to take the imperial examinations, she would have earned high office long ago. With men of their crude wits vying for the top beauty, was it any wonder trouble ensued? And so, Zheng and Ge took the phrase entirely at face value. Interpreted literally, it seemed she was hinting, "If only one of you had come, my snowflake would have fallen there." Thus, they fell into their own trap, playing right into the ancient ploy of two peaches killing three warriors. Both men belonged to the martial world and hailed from respectable, upright sects. They could hardly brawl right outside the pleasure house in the middle of the night, only for the victor to stroll back inside. That would sound terrible if word got out. Consequently, they agreed to meet today at the hour of the sheep, at the elevated arena on East Street within Xuzhou, to settle things once and for all. As for their public justification... naturally, neither admitted they were fighting over a courtesan. They claimed to the outside world that they were merely sparring to determine whose martial arts were superior. However, considering that blades and swords have no eyes and a mishap would be difficult to resolve, they notified the local warden and signed a life-and-death waiver. That was their polite pretense. In truth, both men harbored murderous intent. With a life-and-death waiver already signed, why would either hold back? Such a document was essentially a legal killing contract: as long as both sides signed willingly, whatever happened was left to fate. Neither man's family or friends could seek vengeance afterward; anyone who sought revenge or covert retaliation would be the one deemed entirely in the wrong. *** Past the hour of the horse, a crowd of spectators began gathering around East Street. If they happened upon an ordinary jianghu vendetta in the street, commoners would run as far as possible for fear of getting caught in the crossfire. But an arena bout bound by rules was an absolute favorite to watch. Some busybodies had even scrambled onto the rooftops of nearby merchant shops just to secure a clearer view. The hour of the sheep arrived in the blink of an eye. Ge Shi and Zheng Mukai finally made their stage entrance. Both had waited until the very last moment to appear, which demonstrated their jianghu experience—they well knew that arriving too early at such an event made one prone to restlessness. The waiver had been signed long ago. The two men simply stepped forward to exchange brief bows with the local warden acting as witness. After listening to his brief reminders, each utilized their lightness skill to leap onto the elevated arena, which stood over six chi high. "Please." "Please." Gripping their weapons, they cupped their fists in a final salute at the center of the stage before turning and walking to opposite ends of the platform. Right at that moment... "Gather 'round, gather 'round! The book is open, bets are final once laid! The fight starts in a moment! Last minute—get your wagers in now! What? What's a minute? A minute is the time it takes you to count from one to sixty, one tick at a time!" Just about a dozen meters away, around the corner of an alley, the somewhat shrill voice of a man rang out, brazenly hawking his wares without the slightest hesitation. At the same time, another voice chimed in not far from the bookmaker, speaking with persuasive authority to the locals gathered nearby: "Aiya, I'm a professional commentator, you folks gotta trust me! Let me tell you, today's match is a sixty-forty split—Ge Shi has a slight edge! As the saying goes, a hundred days to master the saber, a thousand days for the spear, ten thousand days for the sword. Between contestants of this caliber... err, masters... the spear user is generally fiercer. Of course, Zheng Mukai has a few years on Ge Shi, so we must factor that in. Take my word for it: bet on Ge Shi, you can't go wrong!" Who else could the owners of these two voices be but Sun Yixie and Huang Donglai? The two scoundrels had only arrived in Xuzhou yesterday. Hearing rumors of this duel whispered throughout every street and alley this morning, they had naturally come to join the fun. Sun Yixie was truly a prodigy of commerce. The moment he caught wind of the news, his mind immediately leaped to setting up a betting pool near the arena. It wasn't that he was hurting for money, but losing two hundred taels of silver at Zhu Xiaowan's black inn a few days ago had left a bitter taste in his mouth. He simply wanted to turn a quick profit on the side to make up for it—it was his nature, not a matter of desperation. As for Huang Donglai, he had a special fondness for giving commentary, so he came along to act as Sun's hype man. At first, the two stood there bantering like a crosstalk duo. Once a large enough crowd had gathered to listen, Huang Donglai took over as the sole storyteller, while Sun Yixie smoothly stepped aside, pulled out the betting tallies he had spent the whole morning preparing, and began taking bets. That was how the current scene had come to be. Listening to the brazen, shameless chatter of those two youngsters, Zheng Mukai and Ge Shi wore awkward expressions on stage, their mouths twitching slightly. But with the arrow already notched on the bowstring, it was impossible to call a timeout. They could only pretend not to hear, dropping into their respective stances and preparing to fight.