Han Shuanghe stepped forward.
“I am Han Shuanghe. I have long heard of your great name, Young Hero Chen. Word has it that you observed a battle in Jinyang City and gained enlightenment, breaking through two realms in succession to enter the Wind-Riding Realm. I have admired you greatly, and today I came specifically to—”
“I know.”
Chen Zui interrupted him, tilting his head to look at the eager group of youths behind him. “Are all of you here for the same thing?”
Xu Fu slammed his twin hammers into the ground, speaking in a muffled, booming voice. “Chen Zui, you’ve been hiding in Furnace-Listening Pavilion for over a month. Are you finally willing to come out today? I just want to ask you one thing: breaking through two realms in succession back in Jinyang City—was that through true ability, or did you just get lucky through opportunistic tricks?”
“Brother Xu’s words are a bit too direct,” Wu Yang said, snapping his folding fan shut as he squinted at Chen Zui. “However... all of us here do indeed share the same doubt.”
Looking at the sect geniuses eager for action below, Chen Zui suddenly found it somewhat amusing.
Raised on pedestals by their respective sects, these youths had grown up surrounded by flowers and praise, convinced that they were the future of this martial world—unprecedented martial arts geniuses seen once in a century.
In the past, these young masters of prestigious, renowned sects probably wouldn't have even deigned to look at him twice.
Yet now, he had suddenly shot to fame overnight in Jinyang City, completely stealing their thunder.
Naturally, they were unwilling to accept it. Their coming here today was nothing more than an attempt to step on his shoulders to make a name for themselves.
“So,” Chen Zui said, stepping down the stone stairs one step at a time. “You all just want to fight me?”
Chen Zui walked down the stone steps and came to a stop less than three zhang away from the crowd.
“Fighting one by one is too much trouble. Why don't you all come at me together?”
The moment those words left his mouth, it was as if the air outside the mountain gate was abruptly sucked out.
Han Shuanghe’s expression froze instantly.
Lei Jun’s hands holding the twin hammers stiffened slightly.
Wu Yang’s folding fan hovered frozen in midair, a stiff crack appearing for the first time on his eternally smiling face.
And the twenty-some eager geniuses behind them exchanged bewildered glances, not a single one able to utter a word for a moment.
“What did you say?” Han Shuanghe asked, his voice somewhat raspy.
“I said, fighting one by one is too much trouble. All of you come at me at once,” Chen Zui repeated once more.
Han Shuanghe stared fixedly at Chen Zui, trying to find any trace of a grand bluff on his face.
Having achieved fame at a young age, he had seen all kinds of people.
True experts usually kept their edge restrained. In contrast, blustering charlatans loved to speak with as much grandiosity as possible, deathly afraid that others wouldn't believe them.
Was this Chen Zui before him the former or the latter?
However, the reason they had dared to come and provoke him was precisely because they felt the rumors in the martial world were bound to be fake.
Breaking through two realms in fifteen minutes?
Such an absurd feat could not be found a second time even if one searched through the entire martial history of Grand Zhao.
Furthermore, if this man truly possessed the cultivation of the Wind-Riding Realm, why wouldn't he take the opportunity to found a sect and establish his legacy?
The title of a young Grandmaster meant boundless resources, countless followers, and olive branches extended by innumerable prestigious sects.
Yet this Young Hero Chen had done the exact opposite. After gaining fame in Jinyang City, far from riding the momentum to rise, he had hidden inside Furnace-Listening Pavilion for over a month, refusing to see anyone.
This defied all logic.
And behind everything that defied logic lay an unspeakable secret.
Thinking up to this point, Han Shuanghe felt somewhat more confident in his judgment.
He raised his hand to check the eager crowd behind him and spoke coldly.
“What a fine bluff.”
He turned around and addressed his fellow sect members and allies in a ringing voice.
“Everyone, he is advancing only to retreat! If we truly swarm him all at once to bully him with numbers, even if he loses, he can still walk away with a reputation of ‘two fists being no match for four hands.’ Losing wouldn't be disgraceful for him; instead, it would make him look valiant and fearless. Such tricks might fool others, but they won't fool me, Han Shuanghe!”
The moment those words were spoken, expressions of sudden realization dawned on everyone's faces.
“Brother Han is right!” Xu Fu slammed his twin hammers into the ground, the handles striking the bluestone slabs and sending sparks flying in all directions. “I almost fell for this kid's trick! We'll fight him fair and square. Win or lose, it'll depend on our own true ability!”
“That's right!” someone chimed in from the crowd. “How could disciples of righteous and respectable sects like us engage in bullying with superior numbers? If we fight, we fight one by one, until he is thoroughly defeated!”
Hearing these words, one of the spectating Furnace-Listening Pavilion disciples couldn't hold it back any longer and let out a snort of laughter.
Realizing it was a breach of decorum, he quickly covered his mouth, but his shoulders still shook uncontrollably.
Beside him, A-Tong was even less polite. He rolled his eyes directly, his voice loud enough to be heard clearly both inside and outside the mountain gate.
“Have these people been kicked in the head by a donkey? Brother Chen gives them a chance and they refuse it, insisting on coming up to get beaten one by one. In all my life, I've never seen people so eager to take a beating. What an eye-opener.”
Standing inside the mountain gate with his arms crossed, Qin Tiegu couldn't help but twitch the corner of his mouth upward as well.
He did not voice a reprimand for his disciples' impoliteness, because he was thinking the exact same thing in his heart.
Standing below the stone steps, Chen Zui helplessly raised a hand to rest against his forehead.
These young masters of the sects really did need a brain check.
“Alright then. In that case, who's going first?”
The moment his voice fell, Xu Fu strode out from the crowd.
This chief true disciple of the Fuyang Sect held his purple-gold twin hammers horizontally by his sides, the dense thunder patterns on the hammerheads glinting with a dark luster under the sunlight.
He made a gesture of invitation toward Chen Zui, bowing his body slightly with meticulous etiquette.
“Xu Fu of the Fuyang Sect. I request your guidance, Young Hero Chen.”
Chen Zui nodded in return.
Then, his hand rested upon the hilt of the sword at his waist.
This movement caused Xu Fu to freeze for a moment.
He sized up the sword at Chen Zui's waist from top to bottom.
It had an ebony scabbard devoid of any decoration, a handguard made of unpolished raw iron, and the hemp rope wrapped around the hilt was already frayed at the edges.
Forget about divine weapons or rare blades; this sword couldn't even compare to a crude blank sold for three taels of silver at a county blacksmith shop.
And the eyes of the group of young geniuses behind him all landed on that sword in unison.
“Wait.”
Xu Fu's brows knitted into a tight knot as he slammed his twin hammers into the ground.
“Aren't you supposed to be a Grandmaster of the Spear? Where is your spear?”
“My spear broke. I'm using a sword for now,” Chen Zui replied nonchalantly.
At those words, Xu Fu's face instantly flushed bright red.
Having lived for twenty-five years, he rarely met a rival among his peers.
Even when facing senior figures who had been famous for years, they would still offer polite words out of respect for the Fuyang Sect.
Yet this man before him actually abandoned his most skilled spearmanship and intended to face his challenge with a sword instead.
And what was worse, he was using a tattered piece of junk sword!
“Chen!”
Gritting his teeth, Xu Fu spat out each word one by one.
“Fighting me with a sword—are you looking down on me, Xu Fu, or are you looking down on my purple-gold twin hammers?”
Chen Zui looked at his furious expression with a tranquil gaze, remaining silent for a breath.
“To beat you lot, I don't need my spear.”
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