Chapter 16: Chapter Sixteen: Little Calculations

Between the two groups, two barehanded youths were sparring; one was stout and heavyset but had a solid stance, his punches and kicks powerful and forceful—he was Wang Dapang, Han Li’s old friend. Wang Dapang, though fat, was no slouch in combat; with each shout, every punch sent a whistling wind rushing forth, imposing and fierce; the other was short and agile, darting like a nimble rat, avoiding Wang Dapang’s blows entirely, relying solely on swift dodges and footwork, clearly aiming to exhaust Wang Dapang’s strength before launching a desperate counterattack.

Seeing his friend engaged in combat on the field, Han Li naturally sided with his friend.

After watching for a while, seeing Wang Dapang still maintaining his fierce momentum, Han Li—who knew no martial arts himself—understood he wouldn’t lose anytime soon, and relaxed.

He glanced around, looking for someone to ask what was going on.

Not far from the tree where he sat, beside a rock, a youth watched the fight while gesturing with his hands, muttering under his breath: “Hit his head, kick his waist! Oh no! So close! Yes, yes, kick his ass, harder…”

This youth watched with gleaming eyes, talking nonstop.

From his tone, he seemed to be rooting for Fat Wang.

Han Li found this fellow intriguing, so he slowly climbed down from the tree and walked over to him.

“Senior brother, do you know the fighters up there? Why are they fighting?” Han Li’s face bore an earnest, trustworthy expression.

“Why ask? Does Little Calculator not know everyone? They’re obviously fighting over… Hey! Who are you? I’ve never seen you before—are you new? No, new disciples don’t enter until another half-year passes. Just who are you?” He had been half-distracted, about to answer, but suddenly realized he’d never laid eyes on Han Li before, and snapped awake.

“I’m Han Li, a friend of that fearless fighter up there, Wang Dapang,” Han Li replied solemnly.

“Wang Dapang’s friend? I know all his friends—there’s no one like you!” The youth remained wary.

“Oh, I’ve been in seclusion these past few years, out of sight for a long time. It’s normal you don’t know me,” Han Li said, half-truthfully.

“Is that so? You entered four years ago too? I never imagined there’d be someone in the mountain I, the All-Knowing, didn’t know.” He glanced at Han Li’s robes and seemed to believe him.

After chatting a few more words, the youth couldn’t help but volunteer the reason for the match.

“Young brother, you don’t know—this whole mess started because of a woman. It goes back to…” This Little Calculator truly lived up to his self-proclaimed title; he recounted the entire story, detail by detail, to Han Li.

The matter began with two men: Wang Yang, Wang Dapang’s cousin, and Zhang Shopkeeper, the son of a moneylender. Both were disciples of the Seven Mysteries Sect, but one was an outer disciple, the other an inner disciple.

Though they lived in the same town, their paths would never have crossed—until another girl intervened. She was from a different town and had been betrothed to Wang Yang since childhood. But recently, while traveling, she was spotted by Zhang the Young Master on his way home. Under Zhang’s wealth and persuasion, both the girl and her parents succumbed; she was re-betrothed to Zhang Shopkeeper, and Wang Yang’s betrothal gifts were returned. The girl, fickle and money-loving, had broken her vow. The news devastated Wang Yang, who had already fallen deeply in love with her. After hearing it, he sank into despair, constantly threatening to kill himself, and finally, unable to bear it, jumped into the river and drowned.

At that point, the story should have ended as a tragedy.

But Wang Dapang, who had been close to his cousin since childhood, refused to let it rest. He confronted Zhang Shopkeeper and challenged him to a duel: the loser must serve tea, bow, and kowtow in apology.

Though proud and arrogant, Zhang Shopkeeper knew his martial skill was slightly inferior to Wang Dapang’s, so he demanded that friends could join the contest—multiple matches would be held, and the overall winner would be decided by total victories. Wang Dapang agreed at once. Zhang Shopkeeper, flush with gold, spent lavishly to recruit wealthy disciples from his faction as allies. Wang Dapang, though penniless, had wide social ties among the sect’s lower and middle ranks, and many skilled disciples volunteered to help him.

As word spread, many fellow disciples came to watch and cheer, forming two sharply divided, hostile camps.

From the youth’s tone, Han Li sensed that tensions between wealthy disciples and lower/middle-rank disciples had grown even fiercer.

A single match had drawn so many spectators and supporters.

“You’re on Wang Dapang’s side too, right? If they break the rules, we jump in together—we’ll beat those young masters into the dirt, so they never dare bully us again!” The youth hadn’t stopped talking since the start.

Han Li smiled wryly. What did this conflict have to do with him? It was hard to say who was right or wrong. After years of Qi Refining and meditation, his youthful impulsiveness had long faded. Besides, he’d never trained in martial arts or weapons—he couldn’t defeat even an ordinary disciple now. After watching the match, he’d return quietly to the valley.

“Yes!” Suddenly, the youth’s face lit up with joy as he shouted.

Han Li turned quickly to the field. The opponent had finally failed to dodge in time—he took Wang Dapang’s massive fist square on the forehead and collapsed, unconscious.

Part of the crowd roared “Good!”, while the other side turned grim.

Wang Dapang beamed with pride, bowed to the crowd, then waddled back to his side with a swaying, proud gait, utterly devoid of the fierce intensity he’d shown during the match.

From Zhang Shopkeeper’s side, two men stepped forward and dragged the unconscious disciple back.

Then, each side sent out another fighter—one wielding a saber, the other a sword.

Both clearly had fiery tempers; without a word, they swung their weapons, clashing with a ringing din.

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