Start with acting, and you'll achieve immortality!

Erhu was shouting at the entrance of the guild hall early in the morning, saying that if the tea prepared by the Iron Fist Gang leader were put in any more, it would brew up bitter gall.

Li Ping pushed open the door and came out, first gagging him: "If your mouth could be exchanged for spirit stones, we'd be rich by now."

Qian Duo followed, clutching the account book, his eyes dark and swollen: "My lord! The Jade Rank just sent a message saying that He Wanjun has changed his mind, and the Earth Rank event can't be held today! What are we going to do?"

"The changes were made quite quickly."

Li Ping took the invitation and noticed a new line of small print at the end: "The Jade-level arena still has a defender; according to the Blood Arena rules, you cannot cross it."

Su Wan leaned against a pillar, her left hand resting on her sword sheath: "Someone doesn't want him to go directly to the prefecture level."

"Then let's go take a look."

Li Ping flipped the post back, "There are rules to follow in a tournament. The Iron Fist Gang finally has something worth watching."

The jade steps are built at the deepest part of the guild hall.

The sandalwood railing gleamed with tung oil, dark red silk banners hung from its four corners, and the blue bricks at the foot of the floor had been replaced with fine white jade, gleaming coldly in the dimly lit hall.

The more beautiful the stage, the less loud the people around it dared to speak; they even held their breath extremely low.

There is already one person on the stage.

The man was in his thirties, dressed in a clean blue robe, with a smile on his face, but his fingers were excessively long, with a layer of indelible black grime under his fingernails.

Upon seeing Li Ping approach, he first bowed.

"The Iron Fist Gang, Du Chang gives me face in the underworld, calling me Poison Hand."

Li Ping glanced at his cuff: "This name is quite convenient; it saves us the trouble of having to ask who the person is after typing it out."

Du Chang's smile remained unchanged: "Lord Li is skilled with words, and his skills must be equally impressive."

"Not bad, it's good at dealing with all kinds of dissent."

Someone in the audience was quietly inhaling.

Poisonous Hand Du Changshou has been at the Jade Level for two years, with few wins but a considerable number of players eliminated.

Those below the stage knew that when fighting this venomous creature, the real danger wasn't his speed of blade, but the hidden, insidious attacks he might employ. Two years ago, a rogue cultivator at the Golden Core stage had his Qi Sea crippled by a single colorless sleeve arrow from him.

He Wanjun sat on a high chair below the prefectural-level platform, with a pot of tea beside him.

He didn't stop him, he just nodded to Du Heng.

The referee glanced at both sides, his throat a little dry: "Jade-level arena, fight to the death!"

Before Du Heng lowered his clasped hands, a wisp of smoke drifted from his right sleeve.

The smoke was so thin that it dissipated as soon as it entered the sunlight.

Several gamblers who were nearby covered their foreheads, some leaned against the railing and dry heaved, and teacups smashed at their feet.

"Get out of the way!"

The referee called out and swayed slightly.

Du Chang had already retreated to the corner of the stage, his sleeves slightly outstretched.

A dozen or so thin needles slid out from under the sleeve, their tips glistening with a wet, black liquid.

"Lord Li, if you know what's good for you, you'll have to leave now."

He spoke very politely, "This cigarette will only put you to sleep for three days, but if it forces me to use acupuncture, even a miracle worker couldn't save you."

Li Ping stood still, not even moving his sleeves.

Du Heng waited for one breath, then two breaths.

Li Ping was still standing, his eyelids not even blinking.

"How come you weren't poisoned?"

Du Chang's smile finally crumbled.

"This cigarette tastes bitter when you smoke it, and there's a hint of dried tangerine peel in my nose."

Li Ping pointed to the audience below, "I got tired of these lowlifes back in Xiyun County three years ago."

Du Heng's pupils contracted, and more than a dozen poison needles were fired simultaneously.

Li Ping shifted his toes, activated the Earthly Qi Guiding Technique, and several beams of earthy yellow spiritual light suddenly emerged from the cracks in the white jade bricks.

With a series of crisp clangs, the thin needles struck the invisible barrier half a foot away, breaking off and falling to the ground.

Du Chang's expression changed drastically. He turned to jump off the stage, but the hard white jade bricks beneath his feet suddenly softened like quicksand, causing his shoes to sink half an inch, and his body swayed.

This half inch is enough.

Li Ping pounced on him like a shadow, delivering a powerful kick to his knee.

With a soft crack, Du Chang's knee slammed onto the jade slab, causing him to gasp in pain. Just as he was about to swallow the pill hidden between his fingers, a cloth shoe firmly pinned down his wrist, rendering him immobile.

"Are you going to swallow this medicine yourself, or should I help you push it down your throat?"

Li Ping looked down at him. "Choose one."

Du Heng gritted his teeth and pulled a short blade from behind his waist with his other hand.

Li Ping punched him in the bridge of the nose, the short knife slipped from his hand, and blood trickled down his lip.

"You should take an antidote beforehand."

Du Chang, panting, looked on in astonishment. "You know what kind of poison I'm going to use?"

Li Ping glanced at He Wanjun.

The teapot was still on the table, its lid half-open.

When I entered the guild hall in the morning, He Wanjun sent someone to bring me a cup of wine, saying it was to calm my nerves.

He didn't drink it; instead, he poured it into the water tank in the backyard and then asked Qian Duo to prepare a pot of it according to the taste and send it back.

The Iron Fist Gang wanted to test him, and he tested the Iron Fist Gang in return.

"I have no idea"

Li Ping said, "However, Chief He's tea was too hot, and I was afraid it would burn my throat, so I just poured it into Du Chang's cup."

Du Chang's lips moved, and the color drained from his face instantly, a layer of cold sweat beading on his forehead.

He drank from the pot of tea in the audience before the match, taking two large gulps, saying it was to soothe his throat.

"Tea..."

Li Ping looked at the increasingly dark color around his lips and didn't answer immediately.

He had already asked Ah Si to investigate Du Heng's habits; this man always drank a cup of warm tea before each match, and he wouldn't even change the cup.

The teapots delivered from the guild hall's kitchen had already been moved.

The Iron Fist Gang wanted to use Du Heng to find out his background and, incidentally, kill him on stage.

He then turned the tables, letting the person who poisoned him taste it first.

Du Chang struggled to reach the teapot, his fingers leaving a bloody trail on the white jade brick.

Li Ping stepped on the back of his hand, his gaze falling on He Wanjun's face.

"If you want your life, trade it for the Iron Fist Gang's Earth-level secrets."

Li Ping took out a small porcelain bottle from his pocket and waved it in front of him. "This bottle of medicine is only for those who obey."

Du Heng's throat bobbed, and beads of sweat immediately appeared on his forehead.

He wanted to curse, but before he could finish, he spat out a mouthful of black liquid and fell forward.

The audience was very quiet.

The steward next to He Wanjun's face froze, his fingers scratching white marks on the edge of the table.

Li Ping squatted down, pried open Du Chang's chin, stuffed the medicine from the porcelain bottle into his mouth, and then slapped the back of his neck.

Du Chang coughed for a long time, vomiting up all the black fluid, and finally his chest was able to rise and fall again.

"Let's have a fight, using poison is too unseemly."

Li Ping patted his face, "Next time you really want to harm someone, try making a pot of tea that's not steaming hot so it's scalding hot in the morning. Who could drink that?"

Du Chang lay on the brick surface, staring at him, unable to utter a word for a long time.

The referee snapped out of his daze and hurriedly ran onto the stage.

He looked at Du Chang first, then at Li Ping, and his voice cracked when he opened his mouth.

"Jade-level... Li Pingsheng!"

The crowd then erupted

Some cursed Du Heng for being insidious, some stared at the pot of tea, afraid to touch it again, and many more people's gazes towards Li Ping completely changed.

They'd seen fighters before, but this was the first time they'd seen someone dare to set a trap for Poison Hand on Iron Fist Gang's territory.

He Wanjun slowly stood up and clapped twice on the stage.

"Lord Li, it seems you're not just good at fighting."

Li Ping picked up the short blade from the ground and threw it next to Du Chang: "Chief He, I've already brewed you fresh tea. Do you dare to take that pot of Earth-grade tea?"

He Wanjun chuckled, his gaze falling on the black stone platform.

"I'll treat you to a drink when you come up."

He turned and flicked his sleeve, and with each step he took, the powerful aura of a Golden Core cultivator rose further.