Chapter Forty-One: That Young Man's Name Was Bo Er

The competition followed an elimination format, with opponents decided by drawing lots. Victors advanced to the next round.

Ten martial arts halls each sent six disciples, totaling sixty participants. On the first day, two bouts were held: the first eliminated thirty disciples, the second eliminated fifteen more. On the second day, the fifteen remaining disciples were grouped in threes, and two-thirds were eliminated. On the final day, the top five disciples competed to determine their ranking.

“Everyone, do your best—make it into the top five!” Ma Xue’e encouraged them before the draw.

“Not top five—first place,” replied Luo Changning.

The sixty disciples took turns stepping onto the platform to draw wooden sticks with numbers inscribed. The disciple with number one would face number sixty, number two would face fifty-nine, and so on.

Mo Feng drew number four, making him the first among his group to compete.

Next came Xiang Yinglong, Chen Xiangru, Mao Ruolin, Luo Changning, and Ma Qingyun.

“Senior brothers, junior brothers, and Xue’e, I’m heading up!” Mo Feng’s childlike face shone with confidence as he waved to his comrades in the martial arts hall.

“Go on, and give that big fellow a thorough beating!” Ma Xue’e cheered him on.

“Count on it!”

Mo Feng winked at her, playfully tucked his pair of flying knives into his breast, and ascended the stage for his match.

Those knives were his mother’s keepsake, never blooded. Given the competition’s rule of stopping at the point of victory and forbidding lethal force, he could not use them.

Mo Feng’s opponent was Chen Chao from the Twin Fist Martial Hall.

Chen Chao was built like a bull, his body a mass of muscle. Standing across from him, Mo Feng seemed a mere child, not yet grown.

“Brother Mo Feng, please go easy,” Chen Chao said, folding his fists in salute.

“No need for courtesy, Brother Chen—I won’t hold back!” Mo Feng replied with a grin.

One fought with fists, the other with palms.

One’s style was vigorous and forceful, like a tiger; the other’s was agile and versatile.

Chen Chao attacked with fists, Mo Feng with palms.

After dozens of exchanges, Chen Chao began to lose ground. At last, Mo Feng struck him from behind, sending him to the edge of the platform and causing him to spit blood. The outcome was clear.

The judge announced, “In this bout, Mo Feng of the Luoyang Martial Hall is victorious.”

“Thank you for letting me win,” Mo Feng said cheerfully, then leapt off the stage.

Xiang Yinglong, as the young master of the Luoyang Martial Hall, breezed through his first round, winning with ease.

Next, it was Chen Xiangru’s turn.

In the first round, weapons were forbidden; only external skills and inner force could be used. Thus, Chen Xiangru did not bring his seven-foot-long halberd onto the stage, but entrusted it to Senior Brother Liang Zhenyun.

Chen Xiangru spat on his palm and rubbed his hands vigorously, grinning foolishly at his opponent. “Come on, kid, show me what you’ve got!”

His opponent was Bo Er from the Baishui Martial Hall in Qingyin County.

Bo Er was slim and petite, his muscles compact and bronze-toned—clearly the kind who looked thin when clothed but muscular when bare. Yet, to others, he appeared underdeveloped.

He glanced at the self-amused Chen Xiangru, feeling speechless. Curling his lips, he replied, “Heh, please go easy,” while inwardly grumbling: Anyone watching would think we’re street brawlers! Young man, could you act a bit more mature?

After a dozen or so moves, Chen Xiangru’s face brimmed with confidence, seemingly assured of victory. Gathering strength in his dantian, he launched a fierce punch at Bo Er’s chest.

Bo Er’s eyes flashed, and he dodged nimbly.

Seeing his attack evade, Chen Xiangru spun and swept at Bo Er’s shin.

He thought, Heh, this time I’ll definitely knock you down. Lowering his body, he clenched his fists and swung hard at Bo Er’s abdomen.

So, even if Bo Er dodged the sweep, he would not escape the iron fists aimed at his belly. Chen Xiangru felt sure of victory, and those seated around the stage agreed.

Especially Bo Er, whose slender frame seemed no match for Chen Xiangru’s thick legs and powerful fists—there seemed no outcome but defeat.

“Ah, no need to guess—Luoyang Martial Hall’s Chen Xiangru will definitely win this bout,” a disciple below remarked.

“Exactly! Just look at Bo Er—skinny and short, clearly malnourished. How could he stand up to the tall, robust Chen Xiangru?” his companion agreed.

“I heard Bo Er used to be a beggar, living rough, eating nothing but leftovers others gave him, barely any nourishment.”

“Oh, that explains why he looks like a child—he’s a beggar!”

“Hahaha! Martial halls in poor places like Qingyin County can only recruit beggars as disciples!”

...

From the moment Bo Er stepped onto the stage, mockery followed him, showing that no one had high hopes for him—or, for that matter, for any martial artist from Qingyin County.

Though the continent of Yaohua revered martial prowess and strength, wealth and status still mattered. The poor were unwelcome everywhere, unless they could prove their worth.

Qingyin County was infamous for its poverty and disorder, owing to its geography. Surrounded by the bandit mountains of Baishuiyu and Tianmen Mountain, the air was thick with crime and theft.

Families with any wealth had all been “visited” at least once; ordinary folk who couldn’t afford guards suffered constant harassment.

Baishuiyu lay at the easternmost edge of Fuxian County, Tianmen Mountain at the southernmost edge of Qingyang County, both bordering Qingyin’s southeast. Between the two bandit peaks lay only a narrow stretch of sea.

The bandits and pirates of Annan Road were quite principled—they rarely troubled the locals, unless someone trespassed on their territory.

The people of Qingyang and Fuxian counties were safe, but Qingyin’s residents suffered, dragged down by the two bandit mountains, unable to prosper.

Thus, among the five counties of Qiuriver Prefecture, Qingyin was the most impoverished, despite being centrally located with excellent transport links. Even Beishan County, with its poor connectivity, was wealthier.

Merchants of Annan Road, wary of bandits, preferred to take the longer route through Beishan to purchase goods in Heishui County, paying extra for travel rather than risking bandit attacks.

As a result, martial artists from Qingyin were looked down upon, seen as poor rabble from a backwater. Without government subsidies, they could scarcely afford a night at Evergreen Inn, let alone buy extra dishes out of their own pocket.

There were more beggars than martial artists in Qingyin, so poor even brothels were few, though private business was plenty.

Bo Er was one of the many beggars—luckier than most.

At eight, he was spotted and taken in by Master Bai of Baishui Martial Hall, who personally mentored him. Most disciples started training under senior brothers, not under the hall master’s direct guidance.

Bai Yuliang, master of Baishui Martial Hall, was related to Bai Longhu, the chief bandit of Baishuiyu—they were cousins. One taught disciples; the other commanded outlaws.

Bai Yuliang was upright, taking in disciples who were beggars, orphans, or abused children. In other words, any child with a tragic background, yet sound mind and body, could join Baishui Martial Hall.

Thus, Bai Yuliang was respected by his disciples, both as teacher and father. While other halls saw intrigue and rivalry, Baishui Martial Hall was free of such troubles—brothers got along harmoniously.

It was said Master Bai named his hall “Baishui” in hopes that his cousin, Chief Bai Longhu, would abandon the dark path and repent, returning peace to Baishuiyu and Qingyin County.

Because of Bai Yuliang’s conduct, the people of Qingyin did not resent his kinship with the bandit chief; instead, they praised him.

Apart from running the martial hall, Bai Yuliang also traded local specialties, so even with many disciples, they ate well every day and wore cotton clothing, never deprived.