Chapter 49: Kun Skin Drum

“The winner, Zhao Tiehe of Sanshan City!”

The referee's declaration finally landed, and almost simultaneously, the figure of Zhao Tiehe, who had swung his fist with all his might, collapsed heavily to the ground.

His injuries were actually much more severe than Lin Zhengli's, and his physical strength had long since reached its limit; his final punch had been driven entirely by sheer willpower.

At this moment, he slumped down, lying flat on his back.

Beside him, Lin Zhengli, who had nearly been smashed into a pit by his fists, had long since lost consciousness.

The arena was a scene of devastation: scattered stones, broken vines, deep pits, splashes of water, and bloodstains... a landscape of ruin.

Only then did the applause from outside the arena erupt.

At first, it was sparse, as neither combatant was a local, but it soon swelled into a thunderous roar.

This battle had been too magnificent, and it forced everyone to recognize the tenacity of the cultivators from Sanshan City.

They admired Zhao Tiehe, and consequently, their perception of the territory behind him shifted. Perhaps this was exactly what they were trying to prove by fighting to the death.

They were born in a barren land, in mountainous regions teeming with ferocious beasts, but they were no barbarians. They had their own loves and hates, their own pursuits, and their own... honor.

“It wasn't easy at all.” Ling He clapped until his hands turned red. He was perhaps the only person among them who had never used the derogatory term "Mountain Barbarians" to describe the cultivators of Sanshan City.

Because he understood the feeling of being looked down upon, he never looked down on others.

Zhao Rucheng, however, was focused on a different matter: “With them fighting like this, Third Brother is going to win without even having to fight!”

Beside them, Huang Azhan was already doing the math: “Ten Dao Merit points for winning one round. Since they won these two without fighting, that's a win. The champion of the first-year students in the Three-City Dao Debate gets double the reward. Added together... fifty Dao Merit points. Half a Meridian-Opening Pill! He absolutely has to treat us!”

If he hadn't been mindful of Jiang An'an's presence, he probably would have already spoken those words aloud in the Fragrant Pavilion.

“What is Dao Merit? Is it very valuable?” Jiang An'an asked curiously.

“It is.” Zhao Rucheng, already knowing the story of how Jiang An'an earned money to "repay debts," teased her: “A single point of Dao Merit is worth more than that entire chest of treasure you earned!”

Jiang An'an counted on her fingers, calculating seriously for a moment, and then spread her hands wide, drawing a large circle. “That is really a lot!”

...

After the first round of the rotation matches ended, there was only a very short recovery period. It was somewhat unfair to Zhao Tiehe, who had just endured a grueling battle, but such were the rules.

After being questioned repeatedly by the referee, Zhao Tiehe managed to stand up unsteadily. He still intended to fight.

Jiang Wang stood opposite him, hand resting on his sword, his gaze solemn.

“Come down,” Sun Xiaoman said.

She looked like a little girl and sounded like one too, but when she spoke, Zhao Tiehe could not ignore her.

He turned his head, looked at Sun Xiaoman, and said, “I still have one life left to gamble.”

His attitude was not aggressive, but rather calm, as he was simply stating a fact.

Jiang Wang was by no means a weakling; he had defeated Yang Xingyong in a head-on clash and was currently in peak condition.

At this moment, Zhao Tiehe truly had nothing left to gamble with except his life.

“Your life is important; Sanshan City needs you very much,” Sun Xiaoman said earnestly. “Before, we allowed you to risk your life because you still had opportunities. Now, we won't allow it, because those opportunities are gone. You have accumulated many resources; your life cannot be wasted in vain.”

It was unclear which specific words convinced him. Zhao Tiehe turned around and stumbled out of the arena.

Whether it was an illusion, but at the moment he turned, Jiang Wang seemed to catch a fleeting glint of tears in his eyes.

Could a man like that actually cry?

Jiang Wang could not understand this near-obsessive concern these Sanshan City cultivators had for victory and defeat.

He had done his best; why would he feel sorrow for not being able to fight to the death?

Carrying this question, Jiang Wang moved on to the third round of the rotation—by this time, Lin Zhengli had not even regained consciousness, so Lin Zhengren once again stepped in to concede on his behalf.

In this manner, Jiang Wang became the first-year champion of this Three-City Dao Debate. Because his opponents had both been incapacitated, it didn't seem particularly convincing, but...

“Who cares! The Dao Merit in hand is real,” Zhao Rucheng remarked.

By now, Jiang Wang had retreated outside the arena, joining Ling He and the others as a spectator.

The common folk of Fenglin City were quite tolerant toward the cultivators who brought them glory, even carving out a spot for Jiang Wang as he went down to rest.

Jiang An'an and that arrogant little girl were sitting right at the front, while Jiang Wang and the others sat further back, chatting idly.

The only thing that surprised Jiang Wang was that the cloud carpet they were sitting on was not the work of Zhao Rucheng, but was brought by the elderly man who was accompanying the little girl, Qingzhi.

This cloud carpet was extremely light and soft in texture, a luxury that ordinary families could not enjoy. Yet, Qingzhi's family had brought such a large piece to lay on the ground.

Jiang Wang could only marvel at how the world of the wealthy was truly a series of endless heights.

Thinking of his own upbringing, his family had land and shops, and they never lacked for food or drink. But ever since meeting Zhao Rucheng, he often felt like a beggar.

The hunchbacked old man glanced at Jiang Wang a few times and suddenly spoke: “I didn't expect you to return that chest of treasure. Little Friend Jiang has taught his sister very well.”

The old man's voice was kind, but paired with his lecherous appearance, it lacked much credibility.

Jiang Wang, however, was not one to judge by appearances, and his reply was not disrespectful: “It was only right. It was just child's play; how could one take it seriously?”

“Confucius said: 'To be rich and honored through unrighteousness is to me like floating clouds.' Little Friend Jiang's words possess the true spirit of Confucianism.”

Discussing Confucian spirit with a Daoist disciple in the State of Zhuang—this hunchbacked old man had likely read so many books that his brain had gone faulty.

Jiang Wang gave a casual laugh and said, “The match is starting.”

...

The Three-City Dao Debate was divided into first-year, third-year, and fifth-year categories, but the rules were generally the same.

Li Jianqiu and Wang Changxiang took the field at the same time, with three matches proceeding simultaneously.

Jiang Wang focused all his attention on observing the entire scene.

Li Jianqiu's opponent was from Sanshan City. This duel was also incredibly精彩 (spectacular). Both sides displayed exquisite manipulation of Daoist arts, trading blows in a long, drawn-out struggle before Li Jianqiu finally defeated his opponent with fire-element Daoist arts.

Wang Changxiang's battle against the cultivator from Wangjiang City was much simpler. Once the fight began, he first used Daoist arts to summon a mist, obscuring his opponent's vision. Then, with calm precision, he performed hand seals, and a single Breath-Blow Tornado swept his opponent into the sky.

An A-grade Daoist art like the Breath-Blow Tornado was almost impossible to counter at this level of combat. Jiang Wang remembered that back in Xiaolin Town, a single Breath-Blow Tornado could have sucked Wang Changxiang dry; he had wondered then if Wang had given up on his subsequent battles.

But after the fight ended, Wang Changxiang immediately pulled out a Dao Origin Stone and began to absorb it...

It was clear that the Wang family had spared no expense this time, determined to seize the title of third-year champion.

However, what the common folk of Fenglin City were most interested in was the match of the mysterious black-clad figure from Sanshan City.

When the black robe was removed, revealing an extremely comical, chubby little boy, the gathered citizens of Fenglin City let out a collective sigh of disappointment.

In their imagination, the figure inside the black robe should have been a great demon king with a face full of scars, or at the very least, someone who looked fierce. He shouldn't have been a soft, chubby boy who looked easy to bully.

But they were not disappointed entirely, for this little boy was very strong!

As the duel began, perhaps due to the previous consecutive losses of his teammates, the third-year cultivator from Wangjiang City went all out.

He led with five water spikes, maliciously embedding wind blades between them.

Then came earth spikes, and finally, his hand seals prepared a Raging Tide.

The mixing of wind, water, and earth Daoist arts created a dizzying series of connections.

But from beginning to end, the little boy from Sanshan City did only one thing—he charged.

He charged forward headlong, almost ignoring the overwhelming barrage of Daoist arts.

He charged right up to his opponent.

Then he raised his fist and struck.

The battle ended.

The boy's clothes were ravaged with holes everywhere, yet the exposed flesh remained fair and rosy.

As for his opponent, he had already fallen.

The crowd was stunned.

“His physical defense is too strong!” Ling He exclaimed.

“Is he a pure martial artist?”

“No, that final punch was the Stone-Covering Fist. He used Daoist arts.”

“But there was no sign of Stone-Skin Technique or anything similar. How can his defense be this strong?”

These youths, after all, were young and lacked experience; they discussed it for a long time without finding an answer.

“It is the Kun-Skin Drum, a permanently solidified Daoist art,” the hunchbacked old man, who had been listening quietly nearby, said gloomily.

But as for the specific details of this Daoist art, he refused to say more.