Chapter 837: A Man

September 1.

In the rice fields, seedlings stood lush and green; on windless days, the water surface shone like a silver mirror, and when a gentle breeze stirred, the mirror flickered with faint glimmers. White herons stood in rows along the field ridges, stretching their long legs to step into the mud in search of food.

"Grandpa, walk faster, walk faster—we'll miss it if we're late!"

"Don't rush, don't rush—we still have half an hour."

The white herons flew low.

On the field ridge, a boy and a girl each held one of the old man's hands, charging forward like young calves with their heads down.

It had been nearly two months since the Ghost Mother Sect's blood sacrifice, and the bandit leaders had been cleared away. A few days ago, the imperial court issued a tax exemption decree, and life had quietly slipped back to how it used to be.

After spending the entire night on a wooden cart, they hurried from Donghao County to Xige Prefecture, arriving at a relative's house at midnight to squeeze in a night's rest. The old man, lacking the vitality of children, panted under the heat.

The old man looked around and noticed many others on the road, their expressions as hurried as his own, all heading north toward the city.

"More lively than a festival."

…

The riverside training ground in the northern part of the city.

Thirty zhang by thirty zhang, one hundred meters on each side, the arena covered fifteen mu and rose three chi above the ground—vast and spacious.

Along the eastern edge of the arena stood three zhang-high tiers of platforms, with dozens of seats. Outside the platforms stood strongmen, and beyond them, the crowd of onlookers clustered around a dozen free green bean soup stalls.

Beyond the land, the river itself hosted tall pavilions and painted pleasure boats; those with wealth but no rank could not reach the platforms, yet here they could sit high above, securing prime viewing spots.

"Ha! Another bowl!"

The old man raised his wooden bowl and called out, refreshed and cheerful.

The weather was scorching; after half a day's journey, nothing felt better than a bowl of sweet, cool green bean soup.

"Coming right up, old man—you're past your prime, don't eat ice and ruin your stomach." The young man ladled from the earthen pot, warning him.

"Hey, Wei Lin!" On the high platform, Xu Xu Yue greeted the Prefect, seated at the head, "Didn't you go chasing the Ghost Mother Sect? Why are you back here for the spectacle?"

"Why aren't you still playing house with the bandits?" Wei Lin retorted.

"Officials serve the people. Bandits are just a few stray cats—too insignificant for you, Commander Wei. You leave behind a mess, then rush into the water to join the crowd—what's the point?"

The officials of Xige Prefecture were used to it, eyes down, hearts calm, accustomed to the two men's banter.

Compared to him, Xu Xu Yue staying in the prefectural seat was far easier to communicate with. Wei Lin, however, had hunted Ghost Mother Sect disciples, killed mountain spirits, burned towns to the ground, and cared nothing for bystanders—his official style made hearts tremble.

The deputy and chief leaders routinely mocked each other.

On the high platform, spectators gradually filled their seats.

The front row held six seats: the two Commandants of Pingyang, the Prefect of Xige, and the three Patriarchs. Yang Yang Dongxiong's seat was empty—he was guarding the levee, stretched too thin, and had little interest in his own disciple's match.

The second row held eighteen seats: heads of various families and senior officials of the prefectural office.

The third row held thirty-six seats: elite backbone members of various families and key officials from different bureaus.

One zhang per row, sharply divided, hierarchy clearly ordered.

Jiang Jiang Jixi, Yin Yin Yingbo, and Peng Peng Chuji sat cross-legged at the center of the arena, eyes closed, cultivating their qi, fully prepared.

White clouds drifted slowly across the sky, gradually casting shadows to block the scorching sun.

Incense curled in thin spirals.

Outside, the crowd sweated profusely—then a sudden roar erupted.

"Here he comes!"

The Three Excellencies opened their eyes.

Under clear skies and bright sun, thick clouds like cotton balls edged with blazing light were gilded with golden radiance, casting a dazzling glow upon the dragon's silhouette—too brilliant to gaze upon directly.

Whoosh!

A great wind surged.

Golden light pierced the eyes.

The black-gold spear became a streak of light, plunging straight to earth, its blade sinking effortlessly to the hilt.

The azure dragon folded its wings, bursting through the piled clouds, dragging a long mist trail downward—the shadow covering the land vanished, the sky blazed with sudden sunlight, as the crowd's pupils contracted to adjust.

A fierce wind slammed into their faces.

Reed stalks bent low, robes fluttered wildly.

Clang!

Liang Qu raised his hand and drew Dragon Fubo; the white stream behind him slowly dissipated.

From start to finish, it was lightning-fast—as if the azure dragon had plummeted like a meteor and instantly assumed human form.

The white dragon had donned mortal garb.

This was the stuff of folk tales!

The villagers were stunned.

Fat catfish in the river poked their heads out; atop the pavilion of a pleasure boat, Long Long Eying lay on the windowsill, squinting with a faint smile.

"Big Brother is so cool!"

The little Xiao Shenlong tugged at Long Eying's sleeve, eyes shining.

It had spent over a month studying the "Startling Dragon Transformation" in the Dragon Clan's lands, achieving nothing—until it heard there was a spectacle and rushed to Xige. It was worth it!

Learned another trick!

"Hah, pfft!"

Ke Ko Wenbin, Xiang Fang Su, Bai Bai Yinbin, and others stretched their necks and spat in unison.

Xu Xu Yue on the top tier wanted to spit too, but restrained himself for appearances.

The Three Excellencies of Xige wore grim expressions.

After so much effort, they had earned only one chance to spar—both sides knew this was a "performance match."

Yet.

A man's name, a tree's shadow.

From county to prefecture to province to nation to the world, they were two full tiers below Liang Qu. Their efforts had bought them an opportunity, but no promise—whether they could seize it remained uncertain.

Both sides were present; the crowd waited in anticipation.

No words wasted.

Liang Qu's official rank was lower than the Prefect's, but his future potential far surpassed it. The Prefect of Xige immediately rose and spoke two brief lines of ceremonial praise—"Wen Wu Huan, Song Sheng Xing"—and the crowd fell silent.

At the center of the arena.

"After you!"

"After you!" ×3

The spear tip angled downward, its blade swirling with dark light.

Liang Qu stood motionless, calmly waiting for the Three Excellencies to strike first.

He always preferred to be kind—letting the other side strike first gave them a chance to "show off."

White clouds drifted across the sky, shadows coming and going.

They stood locked in silence for half a minute.

Villagers' necks dripped with sweat.

Masters dueling truly were just as the storytellers described—staring each other down all day, searching for flaws. Listening to tales was fun, fleeting—but seeing it live was unbearably dull, especially in this heat.

Finally.

The tension grew taut, frayed.

The Three Excellencies exchanged glances—Jiang Jiang Jixi, the youngest, leapt like a tiger, his killing intent exploding!

He thrust his sword forward!

Hum!

One sword shot forth as a test—air seemed to wail; three chi of sword light erupted.

At that moment, the Gangfeng swirling around Jiang Jiang Jixi came alive, coiling into a terrifying, monstrous sword dragon that lunged open-mouthed to devour him.

Then.

It missed!

The sword's trail of light lingered long after the strike.

Liang Qu drifted backward with the motion; Jiang Jiang Jixi chased relentlessly—but his blade met nothing but drifting willow fluff. Left thrust, Liang Qu drifted left; right thrust, he drifted right; horizontal slash, upward flick—no matter how hard Jiang Jiang Jixi pressed, his opponent moved with the wind of his blade. How fast Jiang Jiang Jixi moved, Liang Qu moved faster.

Such exquisite body technique!

Wind?

No—definitely not wind.

A Hunting Tiger martial master could kill before the wind even stirred.

Stone thrown, ripples formed?

The first Shitan left all three Excellencies stunned.

Villagers scratched their heads—expecting a grand spectacle, they found nothing like it.

Couldn't see it.

Couldn't see anything!

On the high platform, shadows crossed, light blurred; on the ground, not even a shadow remained. Ordinary eyes could not track it—even some Wolf Smoke martial masters struggled to follow.

Liang Qu evaded the sword strikes effortlessly, glancing casually behind him at the other two Excellencies—his meaning clear.

"All of you—attack together!"

Yin Yin Yingbo understood instantly—Liang Qu's body technique was terrifyingly advanced, likely one reason he could fly.

A flight-capable body technique...

Yin Yin Yingbo wielded a blade, Peng Peng Chuji wielded a leaf hammer.

Blade, sword, hammer.

The three came together from three directions!

Simple trajectories, the moment the other two joined, instantly became complex and shifting.

Three weapons were unleashed simultaneously—theoretically enough to seal the space!

But...

This is Zhou You Zhouyou Zhouyou Liuxu at the fourth level!

Zhou You Zhouyou Zhouyou Liuxu transformed into a divine ability!

Liang Qu leapt like a fish breaking the river's surface, springing upward with a light, effortless motion, gliding freely through the gaps between the weapons.

Yet after years of training together, the Three Heroes shared unspoken coordination.

Whsh!

Bear, Dragon, Flame.

Three true Gang manifested together, crushing forward!

(End of Chapter)