In the afternoon, the wind picked up.
A touch of autumn swept in on the breeze.
A few withered yellow leaves drifted down from the treetops, fluttering gracefully in the gusts before scattering across the challenge arena.
They were like autumn spirits, carpeting the ground beforehand to welcome something momentous.
Before long, two figures stepped onto the arena.
One had four eyebrows.
The other had thick brows and large eyes.
They sauntered over at an unhurried pace, looking for all the world like a pair of old grandpas out for a post-meal stroll, radiating a serene composure entirely unbefitting their age.
The perimeter of the arena was already packed with spectators.
At the judges' bench beside the platform, the senior masters—led by Shen Youran—were all watching intently, their eyes sharp as torches.
About to unfold upon the arena was the final match of the fourth round in the martial exam of this Youth Heroes Assembly, and the two contenders facing off were none other than Sun Yixie and Huang Donglai.
Indeed, having ranked high in the literary exam, Huang Donglai had received a bye through the first three rounds. According to the tournament bracket, his fourth-round opponent was the winner of the previous match between Guo Cong and Sun Yixie.
Unlike his previous two matches, Sun Yixie had not even brought his trident onto the stage this time.
Huang Donglai, of course, was likewise bare-handed.
In the wind, the two stood solemnly.
They did not salute each other; they did not even make eye contact.
One tilted his head forty-five degrees upward to gaze into the sky, wearing an expression of melancholy; the other tilted his head forty-five degrees downward to stare at the ground, feigning profound depth.
After a long silence, one of them finally spoke.
"What was meant to come has arrived at last," Sun Yixie sighed toward the heavens in a voice brimming with compassion for the world.
"Indeed. I fear this battle is fate," Huang Donglai replied in a deep, solemn rumble.
The crowd below all knew these two were close friends, so nobody found it odd that they traded such remarks before the fight.
After a brief pause, Sun Yixie spoke again: "In this battle, you and I must both give our all."
"Naturally," Huang Donglai said.
"Splendid, then."
This completely substanceless exchange seemed poised to drag on, showing no signs of stopping.
Huang Donglai said, "Yet you didn't even bring a weapon."
Sun Yixie said, "I brought one."
"Where?"
"Right before your eyes."
The audience understood the underlying meaning: he meant that he himself was a weapon.
Huang Donglai said, "Good."
"Good indeed," Sun Yixie agreed. He paused, then added, "Yet it seems you haven't brought a weapon either."
Hearing that, Huang Donglai smiled faintly. "Heh... You know full well that I use hidden weapons."
Sun Yixie said, "I noted that you took the stage without a single hidden weapon on you, which is why I asked."
Huang Donglai chuckled. "That depends on how you define a hidden weapon." As he spoke, he casually plucked a fallen leaf that had settled on his shoulder and continued, "In my eyes, this... can also be a hidden weapon."
Those words were chilling—and they genuinely frightened quite a few onlookers.
The martial artists in the audience had only heard of the young master of the Huang Clan by reputation and had never witnessed his martial arts in person. Now that he casually hinted at being capable of killing with flying petals and maiming with fallen leaves, everyone was naturally astonished.
To be sure, picking up a stone or a piece of tile to hurl as a hidden weapon was something many people could do; even second- or third-rate hidden weapon practitioners were capable of that. But to use a fallen leaf as a lethal projectile was a feat beyond even some first-rate masters.
The difficulty was comparable to using a chopstick to play snooker and clearing a maximum 147 break, or playing mahjong blindfolded while cheating smoothly without ever getting caught.
This was simply not a realm that could be attained through hard training alone; it demanded an extraordinarily gifted talent combined with years of painstaking study.
Yet this seventeen-year-old young master of the Huang Clan had just claimed he could already wield fallen leaves as hidden weapons. How could the crowd not be shocked?
"Good." On the platform, Sun Yixie did not show much reaction to Huang Donglai's words, merely responding calmly, "Since we both have weapons, we may begin."
Huang Donglai replied, "Mm. We may."
With that, the two finally stopped standing in place striking poses. They turned their heads simultaneously, locking eyes, and each took a few steps forward.
The arena was not particularly large to begin with, and within a few paces, they were standing only five steps apart.
Yet even now, they adopted no fighting stance, both merely clasping their hands behind their backs and staring each other down.
"Are three moves enough?" Sun Yixie soon asked.
"Would two not suffice?" Huang Donglai countered.
"Then let's just make it one move," Sun Yixie said.
"Fine," Huang Donglai agreed. "One move it is."
The moment the word "is" left his mouth, a slight change came over both their postures.
Sun Yixie appeared motionless, yet those with a discerning eye could tell that in that instant, his entire body had relaxed completely—shedding all muscular tension in preparation for an explosive burst.
Huang Donglai pulled his left leg back half a step, and the index finger of his right hand twitched faintly... as if waking the muscle memory in his fingertips, gathering power for the impending strike.
The autumn wind howled mournfully, and the murderous atmosphere tightened to a choke.
The two ceased speaking, poised to strike at any second. Below the arena, the spectators held their breath, waiting on the edge of their seats.
Unexpectedly... at the most critical juncture, when bows were drawn taut and strings seemed about to snap...
Suddenly!
Both Sun and Huang relaxed at the exact same moment.
"Magnificent skill. I have been bested." Right afterward, Huang Donglai cupped his fists, speaking words that sounded very much like a concession.
"You are not bad either," Sun Yixie returned the salute. "Thank you for the concession."
"After you!"
"After you!"
They exchanged courtesies, and then both walked off the arena together.
Without a doubt, the spectators watching this "duel" were completely flabbergasted...
No one knew what had just happened, yet everyone felt as though they understood the gist of it.
"Could this be the legendary 'foreseeing the outcome of an exchange before even striking'?"
"Did they... trade moves in their minds and determine the victor?"
Never mind the spectators—even the judges were left bewildered, with some whispering to one another for confirmation: "This counts as Sun Yixie's victory, right? We're not mistaken?"
In truth, these people were reading far too much into it...
The performance they had just witnessed was something Sun Yixie and Huang Donglai had cooked up while picking their teeth after a meal, and most of it had been improvised on the spot.
The reason for putting on this show was simple: the aftereffects of Huang Donglai consuming the Xie Gallbladder Pill—which left him unable to circulate his internal energy—had yet to subside, so he could not fight at all.
Originally, Huang Donglai had intended to forfeit outright once his turn came. But by sheer coincidence, his opponent happened to be Brother Sun. So the two put their heads together and decided: why not take the stage and look like unfathomable badasses?
That way, they could disguise the fact that Huang Donglai had been forced to yield out of helplessness while simultaneously boosting the mystique and prestige of both men.
Even if someone saw through the act afterward, it would not matter. At most, people would think the two close friends were helping each other out, preserving the stamina of the one with better odds of advancing since one of them had to be eliminated anyway. No one would ever suspect that Huang Donglai was simply unable to use his internal energy.
And so, after this baffling farce, Sun Yixie advanced another round, officially securing a spot in the top eight.
His opponent in the upcoming quarterfinal match was yet another seeded contender. Feng Shunfeng had mentioned him before: one of the few young heroes specially invited by Shen Youran from outside the roster—the successor to the Flying Crane of Mount Cang, Liu Yikong.
Chapter 48