Chapter 271: Duel

The Qingshou Association's Elders are divided into two types: Literary Elders and Martial Elders.

Tang Pei is a Literary Elder.

Wu Decheng is a Martial Elder.

The main difference between them is that Martial Elder Wu Decheng has cultivation.

Wu Decheng is a Level Six Mind Cultivator and is among the top experts in the city of Heishipo.

Li Banfeng had Ma Wu conduct a detailed investigation of the Qingshou Association; he knew Wu Decheng was a figure in Heishipo's Qingshou Association and had prepared for him, but he never expected Wu Decheng to show up nowhere near the movie theater.

There were some hidden details Li Banfeng did not know.

At the beginning of the year, Tang Pei and Wu Decheng had a quarrel; Tang Pei publicly scolded Wu Decheng, who, humiliated, retreated to his countryside villa to recuperate for a time.

Both are Qingshou Association Elders, and Wu Decheng has cultivation—why could Tang Pei scold him?

This is a special tradition of the Qingshou Association.

Among Elders, status differs; what determines an Elder's status is not cultivation, but virtue and talent.

Though Tang Pei has no cultivation and no other special skills, his virtue and ability are superior, placing him above Wu Decheng; scolding Wu Decheng a few times is entirely justified.

Unexpectedly, smashing a movie theater resulted in being drenched in gold waste; Tang Pei, helpless, could only beg Wu Decheng to intervene and deal with the Ye Laixiang newspaper.

Yet why, among so many newspapers and magazines publishing the same news, did Tang Pei conclude the mastermind was Ye Laixiang?

Because only this newspaper published the movie screening announcement.

Following this lead, Tang Pei uncovered a mysterious figure—the Night Boss.

"It's this Night fellow who bought the Sanfu Theater, screened those lewd films, and spread lies and slander against me.

Our ambush at the theater entrance was clearly orchestrated by him behind the scenes."

Wu Decheng did not play coy; after learning the full story, he went alone to the Ye Laixiang newspaper office.

At the newspaper's entrance, Wu Decheng first sent a worker inside to announce: "Wu Decheng of the Qingshou Association requests an audience with the Night Boss."

Ma Wu warned: "The Martial Elder has arrived."

Li Banfeng asked: "How many people did he bring?"

The worker replied: "Just one."

Li Banfeng nodded: "In the martial world, fairness matters. Since he came alone, I'll meet him alone.

You all hide in ambush; only move when I act—don't let him say we're bullying him with numbers."

Zuo Wugang didn't understand: "If we all attack together, won't he still say we're bullying him with numbers?"

Li Banfeng said: "I mean to shut him up—not to avoid bullying him!"

Ma Wu had a workshop specially cleaned out; Li Banfeng and Wu Decheng sat inside for a private meeting.

"Night Boss, I hear you've just arrived in Heishipo?"

Li Banfeng nodded: "My business just started; I haven't had time to pay my respects to Elder Wu."

Wu Decheng smiled: "I don't think you're cut out for this line of work."

Li Banfeng blinked: "What do you mean?"

Wu Decheng felt thirsty, picked up the teacup, sniffed it, then set it back down, staring at Li Banfeng: "This tea is poisoned."

Li Banfeng explained: "The poison was just added; it hasn't been stirred in yet."

Wu Decheng sighed: "I came here with sincerity."

"My apologies, my apologies—this was my mistake. I'll get you a fresh cup of tea right away."

Soon after, a servant brought another cup of tea.

Wu Decheng said to Li Banfeng: "Night Boss, I've come here with two matters to discuss—only with you."

Li Banfeng's tone was utterly open: "I'm the only one here."

Wu Decheng sighed softly: "I'm a Mind Cultivator."

Literary, Virtuous, and Mind Cultivators are three Dao sects closely related, but Literary and Virtuous Cultivators have weak perception; Mind Cultivators have exceptional perception.

Wu Decheng could clearly sense the thoughts of those around him: "Night Boss, I truly came with sincerity—I have no intention of harming you."

Li Banfeng called out to the surroundings: "Hear that? Elder Wu came with sincerity. Everyone, keep your distance—get far enough away you can't hear us!"

A faint rustling came from around the workshop.

Zuo Wugang outside the wall left.

Aqin on the rafters left.

The woman pretending to clean also left.

Sensing others were far enough away, Wu Decheng lowered his voice to Li Banfeng: "First matter: Can you stop showing 'Blood Spear Detective'? Can you stop publishing 'Ye Laixiang'?"

Li Banfeng shook his head: "The movie will screen, the newspaper will publish—no negotiation."

This was expected by Wu Decheng.

"Then let's discuss the second matter: We'll have three matches."

Li Banfeng frowned: "What do you mean by three matches?"

"We'll hold a duel—best of three. We fight three times:

First, I win the opening round; second, you win; third, we draw.

I regain face in the Qingshou Association, you gain respect in Heishipo—does this sound fair?"

Li Banfeng thought a moment: "Fair—but I win the first round."

Wu Decheng frowned: "We made a gentleman's agreement—why haggle over this?"

Li Banfeng said: "If you don't care, then let me have the first round."

Wu Decheng said: "I volunteered for this fight. If I don't win the opening match, I'll lose face before everyone."

Li Banfeng said: "My momentum is strong now; a sudden crushing defeat would shatter morale!"

Wu Decheng's expression darkened; after a long silence, he said: "Fine. As you wish—the first round is yours."

Li Banfeng nodded: "Shall we sign a contract?"

Wu Decheng waved his hand: "No contract needed."

Li Banfeng knew he'd never sign one—pre-arranged collusion in a duel, fixed matches—this must never become public.

"Then let tea stand for wine—this deal is settled." Li Banfeng raised his teacup.

Wu Decheng raised his cup too: "Gentleman's agreement, gentleman's tea—drink it all."

Li Banfeng drained his cup in one gulp.

Wu Decheng drank the tea, then spat it out.

"This tea is still poisoned?"

"Impossible!" Li Banfeng was astonished.

Wu Decheng sneered: "I've spent decades in the martial world—I've seen everything. I tasted it. Still denying it?"

Li Banfeng remained stunned: "When I bought the poison, they said it was tasteless and colorless—you shouldn't have detected it!"

"I..." Wu Decheng was so furious he couldn't speak.

Li Banfeng comforted him: "Don't be angry—I'll get you another cup. Try this one—see if it's poisoned."

Wu Decheng laughed bitterly: "Young man, I like your spirit. Our agreement stands—no backing out."

"Rest assured—I won't renege." Li Banfeng rose to see him out.

After leaving the Ye Laixiang newspaper office, Wu Decheng went to Tang Pei's residence.

"Pei Gong, I met the manager of Ye Laixiang, exchanged a few blows, beat him up,

I wanted to kill him outright, but feared others would say I bullied a junior and damaged my reputation,

I spared his life out of mercy, yet he still defied me, accusing me of bullying the weak and demanding a duel—specifically a Literary Duel."

"When is the fight?" Tang Pei was excited.

The Qingshou Association was a moral paragon, always acting openly; they rarely used underhanded tactics, and duels were their usual way to resolve conflicts.

But Tang Pei had no cultivation—why was he excited?

Because Wu Decheng said the duel was a Literary Duel—equivalent to a debate.

Wu Decheng said: "Pei Gong, you know I'm no good with words. This young Night fellow is eloquent—I fear I'll lose on the stage and lose face."

Tang Pei got out of bed.

He'd been bedridden for days, unable to rise—today, he got up.

"Decheng, you speak like an outsider. Do you really think you must fight this duel? Do you think I, Tang, fear him?"

As he said "fear," Tang Pei spat, and the droplets drifted with the wind onto Wu Decheng's face.

Wu Decheng swallowed his urge to vomit, adjusted his stance to stand upwind, and sighed: "Then this matter rests with you."

"What's between us needs no formalities!"

Wu Decheng nodded with a smile.

He was right—he truly had no talent for words.

He had come to help Tang Pei resolve matters, but in a few sentences, it became him begging Tang Pei for help.

He'd endured such humiliations countless times before.

Now he wouldn't have to anymore.

He had agreed to a duel with the Night Boss—but he hadn't agreed to a Literary Duel.

Tang Pei was proud and would never lower himself to contact the Night Boss directly.

This situation was quite interesting.

Tang Pei gathered four of his most eloquent disciples, making five in total, ready to challenge on the arena.

This was a chance to turn things around, so Tang Pei specially had his disciples contact newspapers to build up public momentum.

Heishipo buzzed again—someone was challenging the Qingshou Society!

"Do you know what this Night Manager does?"

"I heard he runs a newspaper office—Night Fragrance is his."

"A newspaperman challenging the Qingshou Society? How bold!"

"We've got to go see this—the Qingshou bunch beat an old woman in the street; they're clearly not real cultivators!"

"Wait, don't talk about skill yet—are they doing a literary challenge or a martial one?"

"The paper doesn't say. But whether literary or martial, Night Fragrance is doomed…"

The day before the match, Wu Decheng handed Tang Pei a list.

These were all prominent figures of Heishipo, serving as witnesses to the challenge.

For a literary challenge, the witnesses' role was crucial—unlike martial duels, the outcome wasn't obvious, and witnesses often had to act as judges.

Tang Pei scanned the list—he knew all of them, and they all bowed respectfully to him; as long as the surface was maintained, the verdict would surely favor him.

"Old Wu, you did well. No need for me to personally greet them, right?" Tang Pei was pleased with the list.

"No need. I've already taken care of it."

"Good. I trust your work."

Wu Decheng smiled bitterly inside.

The situation had changed so fast.

Before, he was begging me to settle things.

Now I'm doing his bidding.

And I got two compliments out of it.

How shameless this man is.

Fine. Tomorrow on the arena, see if you can hold up!

…

The next day, the challenge began.

Tang Pei, waving the Qingshou Society banner, led his four disciples onto the arena first.

Li Banfeng didn't understand the rules.

Five men charging together—was this a mob fight?

And the arena was small; there wasn't even room to maneuver.

Bai Qiusheng sensed something was wrong and whispered to Li Banfeng: "Seventh Master, this is a literary challenge, isn't it?"

"What's a literary challenge?" Li Banfeng looked confused.

"A literary challenge is about words, not fists!"

Words?

Li Banfeng hadn't prepared for this.

As they spoke, Wu Decheng signaled the first steam whistle—warning both sides to prepare.

Bai Qiusheng asked: "Seventh Master, what do we do? Who goes first?"

Li Banfeng said: "Stick to the original plan. Our chosen men are good with words too."

On the Night Fragrance side, Zuo Wugang stepped forward, followed by Cao Zhida, Zhen Jincheng, and Ma Wu's two new recruits.

Bai Qiusheng was anxious: "Seventh Master, these men aren't cut out for verbal duels!"

Li Banfeng said: "They're all good with words—especially Zuo Wugang. He's a master of verbal combat."

Bai Qiusheng was still worried when the second whistle blew.

The second whistle meant the contestants were locked in—no changes allowed.

Bai Qiusheng paced frantically; moments later, the third whistle sounded.

According to Heishipo's rules, this meant the challenge had officially begun.

Tang Pei stepped forward first, standing center stage, glaring at Zuo Wugang: "Arrogant brat, spewing lies, spreading rumors, shameless…"

Look at his eloquence—four-character phrases, perfectly balanced.

Below, several witnesses covered their noses in admiration:

"Elder speaks well!"

"But the stench is overwhelming."

Tang Pei's tirade left Zuo Wugang stunned. He turned to Li Banfeng: "Has it started?"

Li Banfeng said: "It's started!"

Zuo Wugang turned back—Tang Pei was still shouting: "Venomous serpent, vile intent, cruel and ruthless, conduct so…"

THUD!

Zuo Wugang punched Tang Pei straight in the mouth—his front teeth flew out.

Tang Pei, teeth missing, stared at Zuo Wugang, then at Wu Decheng.

Wu Decheng's expression was blank—he said nothing.

The disciples were frozen. "It's a literary challenge! Why are you hitting him?" they shouted.

The witnesses sat stunned, then turned to Wu Decheng: "Elder Wu—is this a literary or martial challenge today?"

Wu Decheng's expression was complex.

Shock, confusion—as if something had gone terribly wrong.

Tang Pei didn't want to continue—he felt he could barely stand.

"You…" He tried to retort, but Zuo Wugang swung back—a fist to the face, then two kicks to the chest and abdomen, sending Tang Pei flying off the arena.

That was brutal.

Zuo Wugang could've knocked him down with one punch—but he'd been annoyed by Tang Pei's ranting, so he added two more kicks.

"So stinking loud, and still yapping!" Zuo Wugang spat at Tang Pei.

Tang Pei lay on the ground, jaw shattered, ribs broken, sternum cracked—he couldn't speak.

The remaining four disciples still protested: "It's a literary challenge! No hitting allowed!"

Cheers from the crowd drowned them out.

"Good! Hit him hard!"

"These bastards deserve it!"

"Elder Tang, lend me a few of your concubines—you won't be needing them anymore!"

Amid the cheers, Cao Zhida, Zhen Jincheng, and others pinned Tang Pei's disciples and pounded them—every punch aimed at their mouths.

Li Banfeng said to Bai Qiusheng: "See? These are the ones who know how to fight with words."

Bai Qiusheng didn't know what to say.

Li Banfeng gave Wu Decheng a slight bow.

Elder Wu is a decent man—he let us win the first round.

But he let us win too obviously. Couldn't he have picked a few real fighters? Why send up these useless fools?

Wu Decheng bowed back to Li Banfeng.

Young man, did you enjoy that?

First round—your win.

Second round—mine.

As for the third round…

There won't be a third round.

Young man, you're still too young. Don't blame me for being harsh.

PS: Elder Wu is cunning, but Banfeng is honest—he won't hold a grudge.

(End of Chapter)