Chapter 33: This Young Master Deserves An Award
Lan Junjie cut a much cleaner figure compared to the sorry mess Chen Haoran had left him. His stride was confident, his head held high, and his qi-enhanced claps were filled with mockery. A final loud clap saw the crowd clearing a path to the stage for him and his entourage. The majority of them were white-haired Lan family relatives, but a few more humble figures trailed behind them. Chen Haoran spied one servant carrying a long cloth-wrapped pole.
Lan Ci’s unconscious form was carried over to the group. Lan Junjie didn’t spare his fallen cousin a glance and approached the edge of the stage.
“Quite the impressive performance, Chen Haoran.” Lan Junjie flashed him a mocking smile. “Trying to wash away the shame my sister inflicted on you?”
Chen Haoran sneered. “Do you want to get slapped again?”
Lan Junjie’s mockery collapsed into a scowl. “I see you still don’t know how to hold your damn tongue.”
“Spare me the preaching and get to your point.”
“Is it not obvious? You’re here offering a reward to any who can dethrone you.”
“You?” Chen Haoran incredulously asked. “Go bring your sister here and stop wasting my time.”
Lan Junjie’s scowl deepened and he lept up to the stage. The servant carrying the cloth pole followed him. “I am more than enough to deal with your buffoonery. Don’t think we haven’t noticed you trying to get my sister's attention with your actions. After today you will bother her no longer.”
“And you’re the one who’s going to stop me?”
“You’ll find that I’m not the same person who you attacked before,” Lan Junjie flared his qi, Qi realm Sixth-Layer. He must have been on the verge of a breakthrough the last time they met.
“So you advanced a layer and thought you were reborn, is that it?” Chen Haoran laughed. “Do you think you’ll advance to the Seventh-Layer once I beat your ass again?”
Lan Junjie ignored the taunting and held out his hand. The servant hastily unwrapped the cloth-covered pole and revealed it to be a bone-white spear. The tip of it shone with a serrated, steel gray spearhead. “Don’t you go begging for mercy.”
“Don’t think I won’t slap you again.’
Chen Haoran raised his sword. The audience grew silent with anticipation. They circled each other on the stage. Chen Haoran darted forward, attempting to bait a response, but Lan Junjie held firm. It seemed he’d have to make the first move.
Using his sword as a hammer Chen Haoran battered at Lan Junjie’s spear. His sword struck nothing but air though as Lan Junjie rolled his weapon with the blow and brought it back up in a lightning-quick slash towards Chen Haoran’s head. He stepped forward and caught the haft of the spear on his neck rather than the blade. Cycling his qi to carry away the force of the blow Chen Haoran stabbed forward with his sword. Lan Junjie deftly avoided the patterned steel and distanced himself.
He looked at Chen Haoran with narrowed eyes. Chen Haoran smiled back at him. Lan Junjie had clearly noticed something was off about that last exchange but he couldn’t tell what.
Lan Junjie looked incensed. “Do you think that’s enough to gain the upper hand over me?” Without waiting for a response Lan Junjie charged forward; white stars gathered around his garishly white slippers.
Distracted by the stars, Chen Haoran was forced to hastily dodge a spear thrust to his chest. Chen Haoran used his hand to bat away Lan Junjie’s spear but hissed in pain and jumped back when Lan Junjie slashed its serrated edge through his palm.
Chen Haoran looked at his bleeding hand. Qi dulled most of the pain but he could still feel its sting. He didn’t think the blade was that close, and the spearhead had cut too cleanly through his enhanced skin for it to be a normal weapon. It had to be another treasure on the level of his Mysterious Watersteel Sword at least.
Rather than press his advantage, Lan Junjie planted the butte of his spear into the stone base and smugly watched Chen Haoran. “Not so arrogant now, are we?”
Chen Haoran didn’t dignify that with a response, he raised his sword instead. “Again.”
Stars whistled around Lan Junjie’s feet and Chen Haoran was buried under the flurry of blows that followed. Lan Junjie made judicious use of the longer reach his weapon provided and interrupted every attempt Chen Haoran made to close the distance. White stars flashed and Chen Haoran felt a stinging pain as the spearhead slid across his side. He jumped back and clasped his bloody hand to his bloody side.
Lan Junjie paced predatorily, a savage grin on his face. The tip of his spear scrapped along the stone tiles of the stage in perfect unison with the undulating cheers of the crowd. “What’s wrong Chen Haoran? Where has your bravado gone?”
Credit where it was due, Lan Junjie was more skilled with a spear than Chen Haoran was with a sword. The pathetic figure that Chen Haoran had slapped around his training ground wasn’t the full extent of Lan Junjie’s strength, nor his equipment. Those white stars weren’t just a distraction, the slippers were some kind of artifact, something that made it harder to follow Lan Junjie’s movements.
“Nothing to say, Chen Haoran?”
He pointed to Lan Junjie’s slippers. “Those don’t look like men’s shoes.” Chen Haoran would know, he owned quite a few. He smirked. “Are you wearing your sister’s?”
The audience laughed and Lan Junjie flushed. “You’re a dead man,” he growled.
“So it’s true?” Chen Haoran asked, surprised.
Lan Junjie dashed forward with a roar. Chen Haoran locked his sword against serrated steel and trailed the blade down the bone-white wood of the spear haft. Lan Junjie’s arm glowed green and Chen Haoran’s head snapped back. The pain came moments later. Lan Junjie’s palm flickered and split into green after images and fell like rain on his head. White stars flickered and Chen Haoran couldn’t tell if they belong to Lan Junjie or his own spotted vision. He cycled qi to his arm and flung it out. Lan Junjie ducked the wide blow and swept his feet out from under him. Chen Haoran rolled out of sheer instinct and narrowly avoided Lan Junjie burying his spear where his chest had been.
“Can you see the difference between us, Chen Haoran!” Lan Junjie roared. “This is the price of your arrogance! This is what you deserve for offending the Lan family!”
Chen Haoran checked his nose for blood and was relieved when his hand came away clean. Lan Fen had told him that the Lan family’s Scattering Petal Palm was a hard-to-withstand technique and he could see why. “For the record, I could have avoided that,” he said.
Lan Junjie snorted in disdain. “I think the next thing I cut will be your tongue.”
Chen Haoran ignored him and looked around. Their audience had been going wild. He could hear some begin to chant Lan Junjie’s name. He smiled. “Took them long enough.”
Lan Junjie frowned. “What?” His ears pricked. The din of the crowd washed over them, several times louder than before. Lan Junjie swept his gaze across their audience. The crowd had nearly doubled in size; people packed every open space in the stands and around the stage, and more were coming every minute.
“I’m thankful you’re such a moron, Lan Junjie.” Chen Haoran smiled. “None of this would be possible if you weren’t.” Indeed, his biggest worry was that Lan Junjie had figured out he had an Earth-rank cultivation from the last beating he handed him and informed Lan Yao, and by extension the Lan family. “It’s time for this play to end, however.”
Veins bulged on Lan Junjie’s neck. “What are you planning you bastard?” The note of confusion in Lan Junjie’s tone was music to his ears.
Chen Haoran charged. White stars whirled around Lan Junjie’s feet and obscured his movements.
Too bad Lan Junjie was nowhere near as fast as Lan Fen or Song Yuelin.
Chen Haroan cycled his qi and forced his way past a vicious stab. Lan Junjie’s glowing palm flickered out like a rain of petals. Chen Haoran’s fist scattered them and buried into his gut. Lan Junjie jumped back to lessen the blow and fell to his knees.
“What!?” He looked at Chen Haoran with wide eyes. It seemed that he finally felt the truth.
Chen Haoran laughed and felt exhilaration course through him. His sword glowed blue.
Lan Junjie gritted his teeth and flared his qi. He shot toward Chen Haoran like a cannonball. Stars burned phosphorous white along his legs and his arms shone a vibrant green.
Canyon Carving Sword
Blue light carved the stone stage in half. Lan Junjie’s momentum reversed and he was swept away in a river of energy. Dust kicked up in a cloud and cleared off with another pulse of Chen Haoran’s qi. Lan Junjie was buried in a trench that extended from the arena, his bone-white spear was split down the middle. A green light was quickly fading from his body, the remnants of some defensive treasure perhaps? It was clear that even when holding back Chen Haoran underestimated just how strong the Canyon Carving Sword was.
The crowd was silent. Shock and awe briefly robbed them of their reason. Chen Haoran looked for Song Yuelin and found him in the sea of faces. Song Yuelin gave him a thumbs up.
He breathed.
“Lan Yao!” Qi carried his roar clear and far. “Is this who you send to face me? A Sixth-Layer with only a mere Profound-rank cultivation to his name?” Chen Haoran circled the edge of the ruined stage. “I will not be further insulted like this, Lan Yao! I will not be made a fool of by your lies!” He flared his qi and dust and debris were carried off with its force. “Face me again Lan Yao! We will see whose Earth-rank is superior!”
The crowd was roused from their stupor as if a bomb had gone off. Shock, fear, excitement, a thousand different emotions for a thousand different people blended together. Chen Haoran felt thousands of daggers staring at him. Song Yuelin appeared next to him. The daggers he felt were momentarily blunted.
“Shall we go, Young Master Chen?” Song Yuelin asked.
“There’s still one more thing we have to do.” Chen Haoran looked over to Lan Junjie. His companions had rushed over to his fallen form and shot Chen Haoran fearful looks.
“Get your storage bag ready, Song Yuelin.”
He was going shoe shopping.