Bai Guo had refused to wear aristocratic robes. It just was not how he wanted to conduct himself, looking like the pansies that sent his brethren to die dog-deaths for no reason other than their incompetence. He still held a grudge for what they did to Little Tiger and Po Li. Their deaths should have been glorious, but instead, they died with arrows in their backs, forced into a fighting retreat.

And so, he walked about lightly armoured, with his Guan Dao diagonally strapped to his back, its familiar weight to him.

Seeing a weapons shop across the street, he decided that, with nothing better to do, he would enter and see if any weapon caught his eye. Though he used a pole arm, he was still proficiently trained in sword fighting. Seeing what they had to offer wouldn’t hurt, especially not with his prodigious budget.

“Welcome!” The store manager said as he entered. The room was rather large, filled with weapons of all kinds, not a single inch of wall visible. The store manager was a large, scarred man, possibly a retired warrior. He gave the man a martial salute. Setting aside his disdain for old warriors, the man had fought, and deserved respect.

“Show me your best weapon,” Bai Guo said. The man chuckled.

“Right this way, ser,” he left his counter and led Bai Guo to the end of the wall where a metallic spear was attached to it. “This here is the ‘Break Bone Cut Flesh Spear’,” he said. “Pure steel, too weighty for most men, but there is evidence that this exact spear was used by war hero ‘ Xiang Yu’.”

That seemed rather… odd. A too-heavy weapon never really made for a good tool of war. Besides, no one but a Martial Warrior could lift a solid steel spear. Bai Guo turned to the manager, looking at him dubiously. “I meant something more practical.”

The manager laughed. “Ah, can’t blame ya for not wanting that behemoth. I’ll get ya something you could use-, wait,” he turned to look at Bai Guo’s Guan Dao. “Can I take a look at your pole arm?”

Bai Guo took the pole pole arm out and showed it to the manager, who assessed it quietly. He was looking at it inscrutably for almost a minute, not expressing a single emotion on his war-hardened face. Finally, he returned the pole arm and gave him an amicable smile. “I will trade you a medium-grade weapon for this.”

“Not interested,” Bai Guo nodded respectfully. The manager frowned.

“Oh, come now,” he chided. “It looks far too heavy for someone of your stature.” Bai Guo wasn’t particularly short, standing at six feet flat, but underneath his clothes, he didn’t look particularly imposing, his muscles small, but wound tightly around him, still. Besides, looks could deceive when it came to a Martial Warrior, and although he had been trained for two years, discounting the recent unlocking of his core, he still wasn’t particularly brutish. The manager simply continued. “I know it looks impressive to the women when you lug this around, but if you can’t use it, you should just let it go.”

Bai Guo ignored the man and walked back to the metal spear with the name too long for him to remember. “What are you going to do?” The manager asked. “I won’t trade your Guan Dao for a treasure, now.”

He picked the spear off from the rack, noting its heft with curiosity. Too heavy to fight with for long periods of time, it would do better as a training tool.

The manager looked at him completely slack-jawed. He returned the spear to the rack and gave another martial salute. “My Guan Dao is not for sale. It was passed down from my father, and his father before him, a treasure which I cannot simply sell for coin.”

“Young boy…” he pointed a shaky finger at the spear. “How did… how did you lift it?”

“I’m a warrior,” he replied frankly.

“Yes, you are!” The manager beamed. “And-and-and you’re so tiny!” He laughed to himself. “Kid, how about I give you that spear?”

It would be useful as a training tool, and when it was not in use, he could just give it to Kang Yilan to store.

Still… nothing was ever free. That was common sense. Not like how ‘children are made’. It wasn’t his fault that no one ever told him that, and Mei Yun shouldn’t have been so harsh about it!

He dispelled the unpleasant memories of her ire and turned to stare the manager in the eyes. “I’m not giving you my Guan Dao for it.”

“You can keep that, too,” he smiled. “Let me take you somewhere. You just have to fight someone, and if you win, you get to keep the spear.”

“Who will I fight?” Bai Guo asked. “And why should I fight them?”

“It’s a competition,” he said. “Underground fighting,” then he leaned in, conspiratorially. “You’re Jianghu, aintcha?”

Bai Guo blinked. “You know… I’m not even sure, myself.”

“Hah, then that’s Jianghu,” he said. “If you’re not from one of them big ol’ sects, then surely you can’t be Wulin. They all uptight, you know. Lone wanderers like you, they’re Jianghu for sure.”

Bai Guo nodded, accepting that as fact. “So you’re aware of the Martial Arts world.”

“Aware?” He laughed. “I’ve got stakes in it,” he pointed at the heavy spear. “That’s not really a treasure. I was just trying to con you. What it is is training equipment. Underneath the steel casing is pure lead, too heavy for any non-Martial Warrior to carry, and even to the average one, they’d be hard-pressed to even lift it above their heads, but you wielded it like it was a weapon and not a weight! It’s perfect for you!” Bai Guo raised an eyebrow at that. “I sell to the Jianghu, too, and they always come with the weirdest item. Yours is no exception, either. Still, it’s always nice to have enough money to buy from whichever Martial Warrior walks through that door, so I make more money by betting.”

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

Bai Guo understood. “And you want to bet on me in a fight.”

“Yes!”

The young soldier sighed. “The odds will be stacked in my favour because I look too powerful.”

“Are you kidding?” The manager barely held himself from laughing. “Kid, compared to some of those maniacs down in the pits, you look like you’ve been baking cakes your whole life. Trust me. Three fights, and you’ll get your spear, alright?”

For a lack of better things to do, he accepted, seeing the spear as his, already. The store manager closed his shop and they both went into a back-door, leading them to a dead-end stone-wall. He pushed down one stone brick, opening the whole wall as if it was a door, down to a dimly lit staircase. The store manager walked down first, and Bai Guo followed.

“Kid, what’s your name?”

The manager turned with the tunnel. “Bai Guo,” he responded. “I’m headed for Kunlun so I can be strong enough to destroy the Horde.”

The manager guffawed. “You’ll find that strength if you go there, kid. Either that, or you’ll die. Those sons of bitches don’t play around, but I reckon you can come out on top with that strength you’ve got in your arms. Tell ya what, where we’re going, it’s where the pussies who don’t dare go to Kunlun end up. You’ll do fine, here.”

Eventually, they came upon a final door, and when it opened, it revealed a huge underground cavity, an arena surrounded by stone benches that could possibly fit thousands of people.

“Welcome to Chengdu Underground, kid,” he patted Bai Guo on the back. “Let’s get you registered. I’ve got some pull down here, so they’ll let you fight quickly so you don’t end up wasting your time.”

They took the stairs between two sections of seatings until they reached the top where the planning room was, guarded by a brutish man. “Token,” he said.

The manager pulled out a token, the symbol of ‘smith’ emblazoned on it with black ink on a painted white background.

The brutish guard nodded his head in a martial salute. “Blacksmith Fang Kang.”

He stepped aside and opened the door. Inside was a room filled with Martial Warriors, most of them large and burly men, walked about with purpose, throwing their weight around like they were better than the common man.

Small wonder they had sequestered themselves so far beneath the Earth, ironically thinking themselves above others. The blacksmith took him over to see a fat man with a scroll in his hand. The moment the fat man spotted him, his expression turned from focused to joyful, hugging the blacksmith. “Fang Kang! Alright, who’s the bastard?”

The blacksmith pointed at Bai Guo. “Ah, okay,” he grinned. “I know there’s a trick to this guy. What’s his name?”

“Bai Guo,” Bai Guo introduced himself.

“Alright, quick rundown of the rules, Bai Guo: you fight hand-to-hand in hand-to-hand rounds, and you fight with weapons in the weapon rounds. Killing is frowned upon, and so is maiming unless you’re in a death duel. Quick question, are you okay with death duels?”

Bai Guo simply shrugged.

“Attaboy,” he turned to the blacksmith. “What will he be doing?”

“Three duels would be enough,” Kang said.

“You sure you don’t want him in the tournament? It’s just a two-day event, you know. Three fights today, two fights tomorrow, granted he wins all his battles.”

Kang laughed. “I don’t know all that much about him. He’s a dark horse, sure, but I can’t rely on him to actually beat everybody.”

“Yes, you can,” Bai Guo said, steel in his voice, before turning to the fat tournament organizer. “I will be in your two-day tournament.”

“Good,” he smiled. “The prize is-“

“I don’t care,” he said. “What are the rules for my first round. Weapon or no weapon?”

The fat man beamed at him before turning to the unsure Kang. “I like this kid. No weapons until semi-finals. No killing until finals.”

Bai Guo nodded. “When do I start?”

The bells rung. The fat man smiled. “Now.” He beckoned an attendant over. “Give this man your pole arm. I swear on my honour that it will be in good hands.”

“If it isn’t, I will kill you,” Bai Guo said frankly, handing the attendant his weapon.

“You’re lucky you came right now,” he said. “We only had one last spot for someone new coming in. We were going to give your would-be opponent a walk-over. Now, go down the stairs, enter the arena grounds, and fight. If you’re hiding weapons, we will ban you, and possibly kill you depending on my mood.”

Bai Guo nodded. He strode down the stairs and entered the arena, beholding the jubilations of thousands of people who had all come to see two Martial Warriors battle. Perhaps he would have been one of them if he had lived in Chengdu. To him, the idea of Martial Warriors always seemed like a children’s story until he had unwittingly been groomed to become one.

His opponent was a man a head taller than him, bristling with thick muscle. His pony-tail was long, swishing about as he looked left and right, snarling at the audience like a beast ready to be unleashed on an unsuspecting lamb. The audience loved it.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” it was the voice of the fat man. He had to be a Martial Warrior as well, then. “Welcome to this quarter-year’s Two-Day Tournament! Where the most impressive of rookies are given a chance to participate in the Grand Tournament if their showing is impressive enough!” The audience’s cheers were almost deafening. “Now, you will have ten minutes to place your bets. Don’t lose your betting tickets. If you do, you will not be able to claim your winnings. On one corner, we have a new favourite, Chen Hui, the hulking titan of Sichuan!”

Chen Hui roared at the crowd, cheering him on like they would a rabid dog. He had seen his fair share of pit-fighting in this army days, the only way to alleviate boredom being fighting.

“And on the other corner, we have a complete unknown! A dark horse, or a paper tiger?! You decide! Bai Guo!”

There was considerably less cheering for him, and even some jeers, but he ignored it. This was good. After all, if few voted for him, then Fang Kang would make a lot of money, which would further justify him giving him the training spear.

“No weapons! No killing! Fight!”

They ran towards each other. Chen Hui aimed to grapple him, but Bai guo was dancing well away from the larger man’s reach. Unconsciously, his body almost made to cut him with his pole arm, forgetting that he had left it behind.

Switching mindsets, he charged towards Chen Hui, dodging a devastating punch with the barest of margins, and delivered a sharp hit that struck the lumbering giant right on his chin, deadening his eyes. The man fell on his back, unmoving. A referee came to check his pulse as the arena was utterly quiet.

The referee raised his hand and pointed towards Bai Guo. “Winner!”

That was deceptively easy.

If they would all be as easy as this fight, then he had nothing to worry about, did he?