The Bet Begins, All Sides Stir

"Bring Ning Fan back to the Zhao family and hand him over to us. If you do, the family will completely overlook your previous acts of rebellion."

"But if you refuse..."

"You know the consequences."

"..."

The Ninth Elder's voice was gloomy, carrying a blatant threat. Yet, as his words finished, his expression softened considerably.

"Yan'er."

"Do not be so stubborn. The family's past arrangements were made for the good of the clan. Return to us. Once you come back, the family will restore you to the status and treatment you deserve."

"Yes."

Zhao Yan'er lowered her head. Her expression was obscured by the shadows, making it impossible to read her face.

One heavy blow, followed by a sweet date.

The Ninth Elder's mastery over human nature was undeniably refined.

"Tomorrow, this Elder will personally observe the duel. I hope you will not try to be clever and throw the fight. The family will be watching your every move."

The Ninth Elder stood up and walked toward the exit of the immortal cave. When he reached Zhao Yan'er's side, he paused, raised his hand, and patted her shoulder with heavy meaning.

With that, he departed from her cave dwelling.

"..."

Long after the Ninth Elder left, Zhao Yan'er remained standing in place, motionless. She clenched her fists tightly as a trace of inner struggle flashed through her eyes.

She had been rebellious before, but that was only because the Zhao family hadn't bothered to intervene. Now, Ninth Elder Zhao Bo had personally delivered an open threat.

How should she choose?

It was a truly agonizing decision.

"Ning Fan..."

Zhao Yan'er raised her head, her gaze unfocused as she stared into the empty space before her, murmuring his name.

She had not realized that her playful attempt to snatch a concubine might actually cost Ning Fan his life.

The next morning.

Yin Yang Peak, the Martial Arts Grounds.

The Martial Arts Grounds were the primary arena for disciples to spar and test their skills, lined with stages of various sizes. On ordinary days, it was a bustling gathering place, but today, the sheer volume of disciples far exceeded normal. The crowd stood shoulder to shoulder, a dense sea of practitioners sweating under the morning sun.

The reason for the commotion was singular-

Today was the day of the wagered duel between Ning Fan and Zhao Yan'er. Over the past days, Zhao Yan'er had aggressively publicized the match until it was known to all.

Not only had she targeted Yin Yang Peak, but she had also used various methods to spread the word across the other main peaks. Everyone was aware of today's fight.

This duel served as a rare mental diversion amid the mounting, suffocating tension of the upcoming Peak Competition.

Coming out to watch the excitement was the perfect distraction.

Furthermore, Ning Fan's reputation had soared recently. Any ordinary disciple of Yin Yang Peak could recount his exploits in detail; he had practically become a local celebrity.

"..."

When Zhao Yan'er arrived at the Martial Arts Grounds, she was startled by the massive turnout. She had anticipated a large crowd, but not a gathering of this scale.

The Martial Arts Grounds of Yin Yang Peak were incredibly vast, yet the spectators threatened to fill the entire space to absolute capacity.

"Hmm?"

As her gaze swept over the crowd, she spotted several familiar faces. Those recognizable to her were naturally of the Direct Disciple rank. But how could a mere spectacle draw out twenty to thirty Direct Disciples? Was this normal?

This duel was supposed to be a lighthearted amusement at best.

Attracting ordinary disciples and Ranking Disciples should have been the limit. Why had even the Direct Disciples come to join the throng?

"Everyone, make way, make way! Hot water coming through, careful not to get scalded!"

"Watch out, step aside!"

"..."

A humorous voice echoed below the primary stage as a figure forcefully nudged his way forward through the tightly packed crowd.

To shout "watch out for hot water" to force a path through a crowd of powerful cultivators meant the speaker was definitely an unconventional character. Zhao Yan'er shifted her gaze toward the source.

It was a familiar silhouette-Ning Fan.

Ning Fan reached the front of the stage, leaped up lightly, and landed directly on the platform. He offered Zhao Yan'er a slight smile.

"Ning is here to fulfill our agreement."

"Mm."

Zhao Yan'er nodded slightly. Her face betrayed neither joy nor sorrow, appearing uncharacteristically subdued. Her eyes drifted toward the side of the grounds, resting on the Ninth Elder, Zhao Bo.

It was clear the Ninth Elder intended to supervise the duel personally.

She had absolutely no room to hold back.

"Junior Brother Ning, long time no see!"

A resonant shout suddenly rang out. Ning Fan, Zhao Yan'er, and the entire surrounding crowd turned their eyes toward the source.

They saw a disciple standing aloft upon a flying sword, cutting a highly conspicuous figure in the sky.

"Liu Fan?"

When Zhao Yan'er recognized the speaker, her brow furrowed. Liu Fan was one of the Direct Disciples of Lingyue Peak. Though he wasn't entirely reclusive, there was no logical reason for him to be so familiar with Ning Fan.

"Liu Fan, you seem rather well-acquainted with my little man?" Zhao Yan'er asked with a forced smile, probing for information.

"Heh, your little man?"

Liu Fan crossed his arms over his chest, a flicker of amusement passing through his eyes as he looked down at her. His tone was distinctly teasing.

"The outcome of this duel is still very much up in the air. However, the disciples present should thank you. Before the Peak Competition even begins, you're giving everyone a baseline standard."

"You're letting the crowd see exactly what caliber of strength this generation's Direct Disciples possess."

"..."

As Liu Fan's words fell, the eyes of the other nearby Direct Disciples lit up. To witness a serious clash between those of the Direct Disciple caliber before the official tournament was a rare and valuable opportunity.

Their presence here was only thirty percent for the entertainment.

The remaining seventy percent was for serious observation.

Indeed, most of the Direct Disciples present had witnessed or participated in the recent events within the Evolution Grounds. Ning Fan's performance there, even if not fully equivalent to a Direct Disciple, was dangerously close. This battle was bound to be highly competitive.

"?"

Sensing the intense, expectant gazes of her peers, a massive question mark rose in Zhao Yan'er's mind.

What did they mean by that?

Wasn't this supposed to be a one-sided suppression? Just a few days ago, she had been able to handle Ning Fan with ease.

She was an authentic Direct Disciple.

Meanwhile, Ning Fan was merely a Ranking Disciple-and a newly initiated one at that. There should be no comparison between them; they shouldn't even be on the same level.

Yet, why did Liu Fan speak as though the victory was uncertain? And why did the other Direct Disciples look as if they were about to watch an evenly matched battle?

It was bizarre. Too bizarre.

Had she missed something critical?

"..."

Zhao Yan'er instinctively glanced at Ninth Elder Zhao Bo. At this moment, Zhao Bo also wore a faint expression of hesitation, but he quickly dismissed it, giving her a reassuring look.

In his eyes, as long as Zhao Yan'er fought with her full strength, defeating Ning Fan would be effortless.

"Little man, shall we? Can we begin now?"

Zhao Yan'er composed her scattered thoughts and turned back to Ning Fan. Her signature, seductive smile returned to her face, instantly radiating an alluring charm.

"Come."

Ning Fan took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. A look of absolute focus and gravity settled deep within his eyes.

Today, he would personally test the true extent of his growth.

He would see exactly how large the gap between himself and a genuine Direct Disciple truly was!

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