Becoming an immortal from a canal worker

Chapter 196: In Memory of the Great Competition Day

Two days later.

early morning.

Before dawn, Chen Ping was already sitting on the prayer mat in the center of the training ground.

Sit cross-legged, close your eyes, and circulate the Returning to Origin Technique.

The vital energy circulated and refined within the meridians time and again. With each cycle, the vital energy became slightly purer, but the final gap in the dragon tendon remained unfilled.

Almost.

It's still just a little bit short.

After an unknown amount of time of polishing, the sky began to lighten, and the hazy light shone through the courtyard walls onto the bluestone ground of the training ground.

Chen Ping opened his eyes.

With the circulation of fetal breathing, all the pores of the body open and close, and the energy of heaven and earth surges into the body, restoring the vital energy and blood to their peak in just a few breaths.

He stood up and walked to the weapons rack.

The bag containing the soldier loosened, and the 600-pound horse-slaying sword fell into his hand.

The dark blade gleamed with a somber light in the morning glow, the grooves on the edge resembling silent ravines.

Chen Ping reached out and stroked the blade from the hilt to the tip, feeling the texture of every inch of metal on the blade with his fingertips.

Cold, heavy, quiet.

He put the knife back into his weapon pouch.

Make a name for yourself today!

As time passed, the sounds outside the courtyard gradually increased.

Footsteps, conversations, and the clash of weapons drifted in from outside the walls, in bursts.

There was a knock on his door.

Three times, steady and disciplined.

Chen Ping straightened his clothes, walked over, and opened the door.

Deacon Lin stood outside the door.

Deacon Lin looked different today than when he delivered meals.

His back was ramrod straight, and his expression was solemn, as if he were doing something very serious.

He looked at Chen Ping and said, "Today I will take you to the Grand Tournament."

Chen Ping nodded and followed Deacon Lin out of the gate of Xuan No. 6 courtyard.

The inner courtyard is no longer what it used to be.

It was still early, but the inner courtyard was already bustling with activity. There were more than ten times as many people coming and going on the stone path as usual, including not only the inner courtyard's stewards and instructors, but also a large number of students from the outer courtyard.

These students from the outer academy walked in twos and threes, their pace slow, constantly observing everything in the inner academy.

Looking at those secluded martial arts courtyards, the wooden plaques hanging on the walls, and the weapons on the weapon racks that were several times better than those in the outer courtyards, everyone's eyes were filled with curiosity and envy.

Among these students, Chen Ping even saw some ordinary people dressed in coarse cloth, young and old, some holding children's hands, some carrying water bottles, walking in as if they were going to a market.

Deacon Lin walked ahead, noticing Chen Ping's gaze, and explained, "For this outer court competition, the vice dean has made an exception and opened the inner court to the entire Tianyan City. Regardless of status or background, anyone who wants to watch the competition is welcome to come in."

He paused.

"This is the first time since the establishment of Cangwu."

Chen Ping nodded without asking any further questions.

Even in the crowd, Chen Ping's figure stood out. Dressed in a Cangwu uniform, he was more than half a head taller than those around him, with broad shoulders and a strong build, making him look like a moving iron tower in the crowd.

Many students from the School of Foreign Languages ​​would pause when they saw him, then huddle together and whisper among themselves.

"Look, that's Chen Ping."

"The one that sliced ​​through four Yuan Gang cultivators with a single sword strike?"

"I heard he's the mastermind behind the Youth League of the Foreign Languages ​​Department."

"Haven't you heard? He broke through from the Transformation Realm to the Yuan Gang Realm in less than a month!"

"Really? That's so fast..."

These whispers spread among the crowd, attracting the attention of ordinary people on the street, who followed the students' gazes and looked at Chen Ping, sizing up the young man.

Chen Ping ignored the stares and walked forward at a steady pace, following Deacon Lin.

After passing through the main stone path in the inner courtyard and bypassing several martial arts training areas, it took about an incense stick's time to walk.

The view ahead suddenly opened up.

A vast open space appeared before us.

Chen Ping's steps slowed down by half a beat.

This was a arena he had never seen before.

It wasn't the kind of small, square arena you see in a typical martial arts training ground, but a giant arena that covered several acres.

The bluestone surface was polished smooth as a mirror, and four stone pillars, each two zhang high, stood at the four corners. The emblem of Cangwu was engraved on the top of the pillars, which gleamed coldly in the morning light.

Around the arena, layers of seating stretched upwards along the terrain, like an inverted giant bowl surrounding the center. The lowest seats were only a dozen steps away from the arena, while the highest seats were three or four zhang (approximately 10-15 meters) above it. Looking up, the figures at the very top appeared as small as ants.

The audience seats were already quite full, a sea of ​​black people.

The top few floors were occupied by ordinary people, families huddled together, some with dry food, some with benches, making a noisy scene, like watching a temple fair.

Look at the middle dozen or so floors.

They were then assigned to disciples of various martial arts schools in Tianyan City.

These trained fighters sat upright, their young faces filled with tension and excitement for the battle.

The bottom few floors are reserved for distinguished guests.

Chen Ping glanced around and saw a familiar face.

Cui Qingwei and Cui Qingyi sat in the front row, right in the center, with an empty seat next to them, it was unclear who it was reserved for.

Master Fushan sat to their right, wearing a gray Taoist robe, his eyes closed as if he were dozing off.

Sanquan and the vice president sat on the left side of the chairman's seat, while Chang Wei's black armor stood out conspicuously among the group of civil officials.

Three elders from the Xue family arrived. The one in the lead was dressed in a dark blue brocade robe, with a thin face and a resemblance to Xue Fengsheng. He held a teacup and spoke slowly and deliberately to the person next to him.

Two middle-aged men sat behind him, one burly and the other lean and capable, both exuding the aura of the Yuan Gang level.

On the Xiao family's side, the white-haired old woman sat in the center, leaning on a black cane, resting with her eyes closed. On either side of the old woman sat a middle-aged man, his face stern, his gaze occasionally sweeping around the arena.

Not many people from the Wang family came. Wang Zhaoyao's uncle and Old Master Xu sat side by side, talking in hushed tones.

Two young guards stood behind my uncle, their demeanor calm and composed, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords, and they did not sit down.

The Lu family had the most visitors.

Lu Chengyuan sat in the center, his face square, his gaze sweeping across the arena with a deep intensity.

Sitting next to him was Lu Chengye, whose old scar on his face was particularly noticeable in the morning light. He had his arms crossed, looking like he was watching a show.

Lu Chenglin sat quietly on the other side, occasionally whispering a few words to Lu Chengyuan.

In the very back seat, Lu Henian leaned back in his chair, his cloudy old eyes half-open and half-closed, as if he were about to doze off at any moment.

Deacon Lin led Chen Ping around the audience seats and into a passage behind the arena.

At the end of the passageway was a spacious waiting area.

It was much bigger than Chen Ping had imagined.

The ground is paved with bluestone, and the area is about half the size of a martial arts arena. There is no wall in front of it, and it faces the arena directly, with only a few steps in between.

Standing in the waiting area, everything on the ring was clearly visible.

There were more than two hundred stone benches in the waiting area, arranged on the left and right sides, separated by a wide aisle.

But only a little over half of them were occupied.

There were seventy or eighty people sitting on the left, dressed simply. Some wore coarse cloth martial arts robes, while others wore patched tight-fitting clothes. They were obviously students from poor families in the outer academy.

They sat together in twos and threes, some talking in hushed tones, some closing their eyes to regulate their breathing, and some staring blankly in the direction of the arena.

There are fewer people on the right, but there are still several dozen.

They were dressed elegantly, with jade pendants or family crests hanging from their waists. They sat with composure, and most of them showed no signs of tension.

The remaining hundred or so stone benches were empty, neatly arranged as if waiting for someone to sit down.

Chen Ping glanced at the empty stone benches, feeling a little puzzled, but didn't think much of it.

The front row had thirteen stone benches, spaced apart from the ones behind them, clearly reserved for the thirteen top-performing students of this year.

Zhang Tingwan, Fu Ci, Zhou Ji, and Zhai Jing were already seated on the left side of the front row.

Opposite them sat Wang Zhaoyao, Xue Fengsheng, Xiao Shan, and Lu Zhenxi.

As soon as Chen Ping entered the waiting area, all eyes turned to him.

Whether it was the poor student on the left or the scion of a prominent family on the right, they were all carefully scrutinizing him.

Those from the Qinglin Society on the left were the first to react. Zhang Tingwan stood up from the stone bench, and dozens of people behind her followed suit, saying in unison.

"Brother Chen."

The sound wasn't loud, but everyone in the waiting area could hear it clearly.

The young men from prominent families on the right remained silent, but many of them lingered on Chen Ping for a few moments longer.

Chen Ping nodded to them, walked to the front row, and sat down.

Zhang Tingwan was on his left, and Fu Ci was on his right. Zhou Ji and Zhai Jing sat beside them, one grinning and the other nodding expressionlessly.

Opposite him, Wang Zhaoyao sat in the center, dressed in a deep red brocade robe, his gaze calm.

The moment Chen Ping sat down, Wang Zhaoyao's gaze met his.

The two stared at each other calmly for a moment across the aisle.

No one spoke.

No one looked away.

A moment later, the two closed their eyes at the same time.

They both closed their eyes to rest, waiting for the competition to begin.

The waiting area quieted down, with only the increasingly noisy voices from the audience outside, like waves surging in from afar.

I don't know how much time passed.

clang.

A bell tolled from the depths of Cangwu, deep and resonant, making the air tremble.

clang.

Second tone.

clang.

Third tone.

Each sound was heavier than the last; before the echoes of the bells had faded, the next sound pressed down, as if something was hammering into everyone's chest.

Nine chimes.

Not a single word more, not a single word less.

The sound of the bells faded, but its lingering echoes reverberated over Tianyan City for a long time before dissipating.

In the audience, the originally noisy crowd quieted down when the first chime sounded, and by the ninth chime, the tens of thousands of people in the audience were so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

Chen Ping opened his eyes and looked up.

A figure appeared out of thin air above the arena.

Vice Dean.

He still wore that faded old Cangwu robe, still had that slightly hunched back, and still had that ordinary face.

But he stood in mid-air as if he were standing on an invisible ground, his robes fluttering without wind, and his white hair gently swaying.

Tens of thousands of eyes in the entire arena were all looking up at the figure in the air.

No one speaks.

No one moved.

The vice president looked down at the arena, and down at the young faces in the waiting area who were looking up at him.

He remained silent for a few moments.

Then he spoke.

The voice wasn't loud, but every word clearly reached the ears of everyone present.

"Today, war is raging in all directions."

"Barbarian tribes are knocking on the gates in the north, and warlords are carving up the land in the east. Demons and evil spirits are appearing frequently."

His gaze swept over the guests from various sects in the VIP section, his tone completely calm.

"An era of great strife is upon us."

He paused for a moment.

"In times of great strife, what is needed is not hermits who hide in the deep mountains and cultivate in seclusion, but warriors who can go into battle and fight to the death."

He looked at the young faces in the waiting area.

"Cangwu has stood for fifteen years, all for the purpose of forging such warriors for the Great Wei."

His tone suddenly paused.

"but."

As soon as that word was uttered, the air around the arena seemed to freeze.

The vice president's gaze shifted from the young faces to the empty stone benches in the waiting area.

"This year's School of Foreign Languages ​​has 231 admitted students."

His voice lowered slightly.

"The waiting area was originally supposed to be full of 231 people."

In the waiting area, Chen Ping's gaze fell on the empty stone benches beside him.

More than one hundred.

They were neatly arranged, but no one was sitting on them.

His heart sank.

The vice dean continued, "The Demonic Sect is cunning; they infiltrated the Southern Ridge and harmed our prodigy."

His voice didn't tremble, but every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Of the more than 150 students who went into the mountains during the Battle of Nanling, less than 30% survived."

Gasps of surprise came from the audience.

Of the more than 150 people who went into the mountains, fewer than 50 returned alive.

The vice dean's gaze fell once again on the empty stone benches.

"The remaining one hundred and twenty-seven are the children sitting before you today."

He paused for a moment.

"Those empty seats are reserved for those who can't come back."

The waiting area became quiet.

Zhang Tingwan lowered her head.

Zhou Ji clenched his fist.

Zhai Jing's fingers tightened on the sword hilt.

Fu Ci's lips were pressed into a thin line.

Chen Ping looked at the empty stone benches beside him, each one clean and tidy, as if they had just been wiped clean, waiting for their owner to return and sit down.

But no one will come.

The vice dean slowly bent his knees and knelt down in mid-air.

Tens of thousands of people in the audience were stunned.

The elders from various sects and distinguished guests in the VIP section were also stunned.

In the waiting area, everyone who had returned alive from Nanling had tears in their eyes.

The vice president knelt in mid-air, head bowed, each word uttered with a tearful lament.

"Cangwu failed in its duty, neglecting to protect my students. Over a hundred lives were lost. It is all Cangwu's fault, all my fault!"

He raised his head and looked at everyone.

"Please join me in remembering and bidding farewell to the pride of our Great Wei!"

Everyone around the arena lowered their heads.

Tens of thousands of people, not a single one spoke.

The wind blew from above the stands, whipping up several flags and making a snapping sound.

It was quiet for a long time.

The vice president stood up.

"I have failed Governor Du's trust in this matter."

His voice was soft, but everyone present could hear it clearly.

"After this competition concludes, I will resign from my position as vice dean."

As soon as those words were spoken, the waiting area and the audience erupted in cheers.

But no one dared to utter a sound; all eyes were fixed on the figure in the air.

The vice president didn't look at anyone.

He reached out and took off the faded old Cangwu robe he was wearing.

Unravel them one by one, slowly and deliberately.

The old robe slipped off his shoulder, which he folded neatly and held in his palm.

He looked at the old robe in his palm, remained silent for a moment, and then threw it off the stage.

The old robe fluttered down and landed silently on the edge of the arena.

The vice dean stood in the air wearing only his undergarments, and his figure seemed to have thinned out compared to before.

He raised his head, looked at the sky, and spoke softly, but everyone could hear him.

"Today, before Cangwu, I, an old man, swear to the heavens."

"Here we go to Yangzhou!"

"If we cannot completely annihilate the rebellious enemies of Nanling!"

"If we cannot avenge the more than 140 students of Cangwu who perished tragically, this blood debt will not be repaid!"

"I, an old man, will fight to the death! I swear I will never return to the court!"

In the back row of the VIP section, Lu Henian slowly opened his half-closed old eyes a crack.

Just a thin line, and then they closed up again in an instant.

Lu Chengyuan, standing beside him, remained expressionless, but the fingers resting on his knees curled slightly.

The vice dean's figure flashed briefly in the air.

Then, it transformed into a shooting star and streaked across the southern horizon.

So fast it was almost invisible.

In an instant, it disappeared into the horizon.

Chen Ping sat in the waiting area, looking up at the direction where the shooting star disappeared.

That direction leads to Yangzhou Prefecture.

The area around the arena remained quiet for a long time.

The old robe that had fallen to the edge of the arena was flipped over by the wind.

A burly instructor with a short beard stepped forward, bent down to pick up the old robe, patted off the dust, carefully folded it, and put it in his pocket.

He stood up straight and looked around the arena.

"There are 127 students participating in this competition, including 12 at the Yuan Gang Realm, 29 at the Hua Jin Perfection Realm, 43 at the Hua Jin Realm, and the rest at the An Jin Realm."

His voice was steady, and every word was clear.

"The competition lasts for three days. On the first day, there are 127 people in the elimination rounds until 64 people remain. On the second day, the 64 people will compete in pairs until 16 people are eliminated. On the third day, the top 16 will be eliminated, the top 8 will be eliminated, the top 4 will be eliminated, and the top 10 will be determined."

He paused for a moment.

"The top ten will be awarded military merit and admitted to the inner court!"

His gaze swept across the waiting area.

"The matchups are drawn from a lottery box. There are no seedings, and no avoidance of players from the same school. Whoever you draw, you will play against."

He paused.

"Two rules."

"First, the winner stops when they concede. The winner should not pursue the opponent. If the opponent is already unable to fight back but still refuses to concede, the instructor will determine the winner."

"Secondly, once you're in the ring, give it your all."

His voice turned slightly colder.

"Anyone who holds back will be disqualified, regardless of victory or defeat."

He looked around.

Then he said in a deep voice.

"The competition begins!"