Chapter 4801 — Then Let Us Duel!

"Sorry, but I'm not selling either of these." Wei Zhao spoke flatly. The man's whole bearing was no manner of trade at all—it was plain coercion, and given Wei Zhao's temper, hell itself would freeze over before he agreed.

Ren Zhongyuan and the others let out a breath at once. Thank goodness this Wei Zhao brat was every bit as stubborn as they had hoped; otherwise the whole scheme would have fallen apart today, and one Beauty Pill wasted for nothing.

"Not selling?" Leng Rufeng's face shifted. He looked down at Yang Qianshuang in his arms with a pang of pity, then his gaze turned cold and sharp. "Since you won't sell, I'll beat you until you do. Armed or formal—take your pick."

There was no dodging this fight today, it seemed. Wei Zhao's mind stirred, though his face betrayed nothing. "What does armed mean? And what does formal mean?"

"Armed means a private duel—no rules, no limits, each man to his own fate. I kill you, then take the Beauty Pill and the Thunder Mystic Vine myself. Formal means a public challenge, everything conducted by the rules of engagement. If you lose, you surrender both items." Leng Rufeng regarded Wei Zhao and spoke slowly.

"Then let us duel." Wei Zhao's tone was calm. He himself had no fear of a private fight; it was only that such a course might drag Ning Xuefei into the affair. Even if the odds were slim, it remained a hidden danger, and he would not have her exposed to the slightest risk.

"Fine. Then come." Leng Rufeng turned and walked off with Yang Qianshuang in his arms. Wei Zhao's choice spared him no small amount of trouble—after all, the man was the Western Isle's consort, and if a private duel ended in a death, the academy's higher-ups would never let the matter rest. A public challenge, though, left nothing to argue about; even the Western Isle's lord himself could say nothing against it.

"Wait." Wei Zhao suddenly called a halt—just when everyone thought he meant to back out. Instead he shot Leng Rufeng a sidelong glance. "You haven't said what happens if you lose. It can't be that I hand over the Beauty Pill and Thunder Mystic Vine if I lose, while you lose and walk away scot-free, can it? There's no cheating like that..."

"I won't lose." Leng Rufeng did not even glance at Wei Zhao. He paused, and when Wei Zhao did not follow, turned back. "What do you want?"

"My fiancee happens to be short one personal guard." Wei Zhao thought for a moment. He had already glimpsed the tip of the iceberg of Leng Rufeng's strength—a truly formidable foe—yet a man so devoted to his woman could not be rotten at heart. If Ning Xuefei had such a guard at her side, he could go about his own business with an easy mind.

Leng Rufeng did not refuse. A cold snort served as his consent, and he at once led the way to the arena grounds—a place set aside expressly for the academy disciples' challenges. Wei Zhao was no disciple of Xiangyun Academy, but his status was peculiar, and his opponent was Leng Rufeng; there could be no objection to his use of the arena.

Ren Zhongyuan and Yi Xiaotian exchanged a smile of conspirators whose plot had borne fruit. The two had unexpectedly chosen a public challenge, true, but once blows were struck their goal was as good as met—after all, even a formal duel could end in a man's death.

The party reached its destination, and the arena grounds, bustling a moment before, fell silent. Even the few pairs locked in challenge bouts on the platforms stopped of their own accord, every face turning to Leng Rufeng with awe. This man was the arena's undefeated legend; the longest winning streak the grounds had ever seen was his record still.

Leng Rufeng had fought his way up from this very place, from utter obscurity to fame in all directions. Here, he was the god of victory.

The two mounted the largest platform at the center, and word of Leng Rufeng's challenge spread like wildfire. The grounds quickly filled with a great crowd of onlookers, every one of them asking who this Wei Zhao might be. When they learned the man was the Western Isle's consort, the mood grew all the more fervent.

The Cold-Faced Blade God against the Western Isle's consort—here was a natural, towering spectacle. It was only that the place charged no admission; otherwise it would have been a fortune worthy of the heavens.

"Wei Zhao, be careful!" Ning Xuefei called from below the platform. She had no notion how strong this Leng Rufeng truly was; she knew only that Wei Zhao was strong, and if it came to confidence, she had more of it than Wei Zhao himself.

Wei Zhao smiled and gave her a reassuring look. But the moment he turned back to face Leng Rufeng, his expression turned grave and heavy. The man had done nothing at all, yet already the pressure on him was crushing—this foe was truly no small matter!

As the two faced off, someone at the edge of the grounds had already lit a stick of incense for them of their own accord. Decision within a single stick's burning—such was the established custom.

"Then let us begin." With that, Leng Rufeng walked toward Wei Zhao. He released no aura, showed no sign of any martial technique, not even the faintest ripple of true qi—he simply strode over, bold as could be.

Was this contempt? Wei Zhao's eyes narrowed slightly. Seeing the man already within three paces, he did not hesitate but raised his hand and loosed a Mad Fire Eight-Trigram Palm. It was not his strongest art, but it was the one he wielded most smoothly, and it was enough to threaten a fine hand at the Profound Ascension stage—just the thing to sound out his opponent's depths.

Against the Mad Fire Eight-Trigram Palm, wrapped in surging fire, Leng Rufeng still showed not the slightest ripple of true qi. He merely raised his hand into a blade shape and gave a light sweep—and the Mad Fire Eight-Trigram Palm was split apart and scattered into empty air.

Wei Zhao's heart lurched with fright, while the crowd below erupted. Ren Zhongyuan clapped Yi Xiaotian on the shoulder, his face alight with excitement. "That Leng fellow is fierce as ever! This brat doesn't stand a chance against him—the only question is whether he gets beaten to death today or just half to death. Heh heh!"

Dead or not, Ren Zhongyuan would have his revenge vented. It takes a villain to grind down a villain; Leng Rufeng and Wei Zhao were both thorns in his eye, and one Beauty Pill had set the two dogs to tearing at each other—above all, he might even snatch the Thunder Mystic Vine in the bargain. This deal was a windfall beyond measure!

"Is this all the strength you have? Then save yourself the trouble and yield now. Otherwise I fear I won't be able to hold back, and you'll die." Leng Rufeng frowned at Wei Zhao as he spoke. It was for Yang Qianshuang's sake, true, but if the matter could be settled without killing, that was the ideal outcome; he was no fool who knew only slaughter.

In truth, when he had first seen Yang Qianshuang wounded, he had held some expectation of Wei Zhao's strength. Even if her cultivation had now been struck down to the peak of the Nascent Soul stage, she was still an invincible existence within that stage—and this brat, at mid Nascent Soul, had been able to wound her. He should not be simple.

But now it seemed Leng Rufeng had thought too much of him. Yang Qianshuang's spirit was wounded and her state unstable; it was no wonder whoever had hurt her. The brat had merely been lucky before.

"Heh. How can you know without trying a few more times? The outcome is hardly settled yet." Wei Zhao pressed down the shock in his heart and gave a faint smile. Startled he had been, that was true—but that last exchange had been nothing more than a test, and far from his true strength. (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, you are welcome to visit Qidian () and cast