Chapter 36: Sword and Wine Meet in Battle, Behold the Grand Spectacle—A Three-Foot Blade Slays the Mangy Turkey

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These past few days, business at the Imperial City Soul Arena had been rather dismal.

The root of the problem was simple.

An outsider had swept through the entire arena.

The spectators were bloodthirsty, naturally, and loved nothing more than brutal combat where every punch landed with a satisfying thud.

But they were citizens of Heaven Dou City, after all. A certain measure of local pride still rankled in their hearts.

Their mighty imperial city had been beaten so badly by an outsider that it could scarcely hold its head up. Who could possibly feel good about that?

Until this day…

The air inside the Soul Arena was murky, steeped in the scent of blood.

A figure entered.

He wore a plain white shirt, his posture straight and proud.

It was as though he had triggered some invisible switch.

Centered around the figure in white, the noisy, boiling arena gradually sank into a strange silence.

When that unmistakable white shirt and faceless mask came into view, the spectators’ eyes widened abruptly.

Then, like an explosion, an even more frenzied wave of cheering erupted.

“Sw—Sword Wine?! It’s Sword Wine! He’s finally here!”

“Wonderful! Is Sword Wine going to accept that fat turkey’s challenge?!”

“Where are those idiots who said Sword Wine was afraid to fight and had run away? Come out here and get lost!”

“One sword strike! Just one! Sword Wine, take him down with a single stroke, just like before!”

The frenzied shouts surged forward like a tide.

Beneath the faceless mask, Li Tiexian’s eyes were cold as swords.

Yes.

Sword Wine was a distant, aloof swordsman.

Only solitude could properly set off the bearing of a true master swordsman.

Ye Lingling followed closely behind Li Tiexian.

The roars around her crashed like mountains and seas.

Her blue eyes flickered faintly.

The sight truly astonished her.

The Imperial Fighting Team was fairly well-known in the Soul Arena, but compared with Sword Wine before her, it seemed utterly eclipsed.

Gazing at the young man’s tall, proud, and solitary back, Ye Lingling blinked.

Perhaps…

This cold and indifferent Sword Wine—

was the real Li Tiexian?

She seemed to understand him a little better now.

The two of them entered a private VIP room, one behind the other.

The heavy doors closed, shutting out the uproar beyond.

Li Tiexian casually removed his mask. With a turn of his fingers, he lazily sank into the sofa, picked up a plum from the table, and tossed it into his mouth.

“Tch. Pretending to be a master is more exhausting than actually fighting.”

“Mmm. The plums at this Soul Arena are genuinely sweet.”

Ye Lingling: “…”

All right. She admitted that she still had a long way to go.

Li Tiexian was simply far too freewheeling.

With Sword Wine’s reputation, there were naturally people whose sole duty was to arrange his matches.

The time had been set for eight o’clock the following evening.

It was still early when they left the Soul Arena.

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Li Tiexian suddenly felt like taking a stroll.

He turned to look at Ye Lingling, who was following closely behind him, and said helplessly, “Hey, I’m going to get something to eat. You’re still coming with me?”

Ye Lingling gently shook the scented pouch at her waist. The coins inside jingled softly.

“I have money. I’ll treat you.”

“I know the Ye family has money.”

Li Tiexian sighed and shook his head.

“Fine. If you want to follow me, then follow.”

He was not worried about exposing himself.

Sword Wine was famous throughout the imperial city, but no one had ever seen the true face beneath his mask.

Ye Lingling’s face was covered by a black veil. Her blue hair was somewhat conspicuous, but in the Douluo Continent, unusual hair colors were hardly rare.

…

They wandered aimlessly, taking in the sights along the way.

Li Tiexian had been cooped up at the Ice and Fire Yin-Yang Well for quite some time, so he was in high spirits. He strolled from the afternoon all the way until dusk.

At last, they stopped at a small noodle shop on the street.

“One bowl of noodle soup, one plate of pickles, and… two cloves of garlic.”

Ye Lingling said, “The same as him.”

“Coming right up. Please wait a moment.”

Before long, the noodles, pickles, and garlic were served.

Li Tiexian rolled up his sleeves, inhaled mouthful after mouthful of steaming noodles, then picked up some pickles and bit into half a clove of garlic, sighing in satisfaction.

Ye Lingling imitated him across the table, only to be left teary-eyed by the garlic’s sharp heat.

Li Tiexian could only shake his head and laugh.

Dusk settled over the streets, where crowds surged in every direction.

Along both sides of the alley, vendors gradually lit their oil lamps.

The uncle next door fanned the charcoal brazier, sending the smoky fragrance of lamb skewers drifting through the air. Across the way, sugar-roasted chestnuts crackled merrily in an iron pan while the vendor called out in a booming voice. Nearby, a little girl with a ponytail watched over a bamboo basket piled high with bright orange-red persimmon cakes.

The sounds and scents of the entire alley fermented beneath the dimming sky into a thick, vivid tapestry of ordinary human life.

And then—

at the wine stall opposite the noodle shop—

a storyteller in a green robe struck his storytelling block with a sharp crack, drawing the eyes of many passersby.

Finding it interesting, Li Tiexian turned around with his bowl in hand.

Ye Lingling followed his example.

—

“Honored listeners, lend me your ears for a splendid tale from the Imperial City Soul Arena—”

“There stood the Evil Fire Phoenix, his red hair bristling as he ground the sole of his boot against Wind Chaser’s chest. The crack of breaking bones was enough to set one’s teeth on edge! The arena tiles burst apart beneath them, spiderweb cracks spreading in every direction!”

“The scoundrel threw back his head and laughed wildly. ‘That’s it? That’s it? Is that all the imperial city has?!’”

“The audience fell utterly silent. Even the gambling house managers froze with their golden betting slips clenched in midair!”

“But the madman still was not satisfied! He hooked Wind Chaser off the platform with the tip of his boot, sending a mist of blood spraying three yards into the air! Then he pointed toward the heavens and roared, ‘Tell that so-called strongest swordsman, Sword Wine, to come crawling out! I’ll snap his sword and overturn his wine!’”

With that, the storyteller seemed to have anticipated what would happen next.

With a sharp swish, he opened his folding fan and raised it to shield his face.

The entire stall erupted in fury. The spectators threw whatever they could reach, their curses shaking the heavens.

“You bastard! Are you even from Heaven Dou City?!”

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“What kind of nonsense are you spouting about? I’ve disliked the sight of you from the start! Have a shoe!”

“What Evil Fire Phoenix? That’s a fat turkey!”

“Tomorrow, we’ll see whether Sword Wine can take him down!”

Li Tiexian turned his head and asked Ye Lingling, “Is what that storyteller said true?”

Ye Lingling thought for a moment, then nodded solemnly.

“Yes.”

She had not gone to the Soul Arena that day and did not know exactly what had happened.

But the storyteller had described it so vividly that surely… it must have been true, right?

“All right. Got it.”

Li Tiexian turned his gaze back toward the wine stall.

—

The storyteller lowered his folding fan, revealing a clean face touched with smugness.

Ha! Just look at that!

Now that was what you called professionalism!

He knew perfectly well when the audience was about to start cursing him.

He cupped his hands toward the crowd, then picked up his storytelling block, its surface smeared with the liquid of rotten eggs, and struck it again with a sharp crack.

“My tale isn’t over yet!”

“That Evil Fire Phoenix may have a few tricks up his sleeve, but if he wants to challenge our imperial city’s Sword Wine, he’s still far from worthy!”

“The banner bearing the name Sword Wine still flies above our Imperial City Soul Arena, trailing sparks of fire!”

“Until Sword Wine loses, who dares say that our imperial city is weak?!”

“Just wait for tomorrow’s grand spectacle—”

Crack!

The storytelling block slammed down.

“A three-foot blade to behead that mongrel turkey!”

The entire crowd swallowed as one.

For several long breaths, utter silence reigned.

Then someone let out a roar of approval.

At once, thunderous applause and deafening cheers exploded beneath the awning.

Copper coins rained down upon the storyteller.

This time, he did not raise his fan to block them.

Instead, he beamed and held out a bowl to catch them.

“Not bad.”

Li Tiexian rolled a gold coin between his fingers.

With a casual flick, it flashed through the air.

The coin landed squarely on the storyteller’s counter, gleaming brilliantly amid the pile of copper coins.

The storyteller looked up excitedly and searched in every direction, but he could not find the person who had given the reward.

There was only the table at the noodle shop opposite—

one bowl completely empty, the other still more than half full, steam rising lazily from it.

The people were already gone without a trace.

Three chapters today. The next chapter is still being written.

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