Chapter 295: Seven Arena

He Lingchuan didn't answer. Instead, he instructed the old woman who had just brought in hot water, "Go get her some hot food, both dishes and rice. Tell them it's for Young Master He." After saying this, he nodded at Ajin, stood up, and left.

After he left, the soldiers on duty there also rushed to He Chunhua's tent to report the conversation between the two.

He Chunhua listened and smiled, remarking, "That boy isn't acting foolish again."

For the next three days, the rain was continuous.

He Lingchuan tossed and turned sleeplessly at night, so he simply got up and asked his personal guards to set up a larger, more spacious tent for him. Its size was almost comparable to that of a provincial governor's tent.

He practiced his saber in the tent.

The saber energy of "Floating Life" was too fierce, and He Lingchuan didn't want rain leaking everywhere while he slept. Therefore, he carved a simple wooden saber for himself and, apart from eating, used it every day to practice "Wave Cleave."

Due to limited space, he didn't combine saber techniques with movement. Instead, he repeatedly chopped and slashed one move at a time. Occasionally, soldiers passing by his tent would see Young Master He using the most basic footwork to execute the most basic saber forms.

But for He Lingchuan, ever since he leaped into the river to confront the waves, he had experienced a sudden enlightenment regarding this saber technique. What he couldn't understand before, he now knew how to execute.

His body had initially memorized this "feeling."

If the Han River hadn't already been turbulent and too dangerous to enter, he would have loved to jump back in and try repeatedly.

The incessant sound of rain covered the faint sounds of wind and thunder emanating from the wooden saber.

The sounds were sometimes loud, sometimes fading away.

When Shan Youjun passed by, he saw He Lingchuan strike a seemingly unremarkable blow at the ground. He had already sheathed his saber when a saber mark suddenly appeared on the ground.

He noticed that the tip of the wooden saber had not touched the ground. Yet, the saber mark was precise and an inch deep.

A few hours later, when Shan Youjun returned, the rain had subsided. Young Master He was standing at the tent entrance, yawning. When he saw Shan Youjun, he asked, "Do you know under what circumstances a drawn saber can cut water?"

Shan Youjun was very cooperative. "Please enlighten me, Master," he replied.

"Right now."

He Lingchuan suddenly drew his saber.

Seven raindrops falling from the sky, whether close to the ground or just about to land on Shan Youjun's forehead, suddenly turned into fourteen drops.

All were cut precisely down the middle.

Shan Youjun felt two successive cool sensations on his forehead.

Looking at the tip of He Lingchuan's saber, it was dry and clean, without a drop of water.

He had struck them with saber energy.

"Master, that's very dangerous!" Shan Youjun exclaimed. When He Lingchuan drew his saber, Shan Youjun had felt a tingling sensation on his forehead and a chill that went straight to the back of his head.

He knew full well that although the wooden saber hadn't touched him, if that single strike had intended to take his life, he would likely have already fallen lifelessly to the ground.

"What a thrill! What a thrill!" He Lingchuan let out a long whistle through pursed lips, feeling completely refreshed.

The results of this enlightenment were now consolidated. He tossed the wooden saber aside, shook his neck, and immediately heard a continuous series of cracking sounds.

Only then did he realize that he had been training tirelessly and hadn't closed his eyes for two days and two nights. Physical and mental exhaustion surged like a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm him.

"I need to get some sleep," he instructed Shan Youjun. "Don't disturb me unless it's urgent."

With that, he ambled to his bed and collapsed, falling asleep instantly.

Yet, even in his dream, it was noisy.

He Lingchuan rubbed his eyes and found himself seemingly standing in a military camp again, surrounded by burly men.

Shouting, clapping, or boos filled the air.

He looked around.

Hmm, the Martial Arts Arena.

Why was he standing at the edge of Panlong City's largest martial arts arena right after entering the dream?

He Lingchuan turned his head and found Sun Fuling standing beside him, looking up at the arena.

Before he could speak, his back was patted, and the skinny man's voice was almost drowned out by the surrounding noise: "Broken Saber, are you still placing bets?"

"Which bet?" He Lingchuan asked, then turned around, surprised to see Hu Min standing next to the skinny man. "Huh, you're here too?"

"Just playing a couple of rounds for fun in my spare time," Hu Min said, pointing at the skinny man. "I wanted to see if there were any dark horses here. I just placed a bet with him."

"Which platform are you betting on?"

"Which else?" the skinny man said, pointing south. "Platform number seven, Wild Boar versus Meng Shan!"

He Lingchuan was startled. He turned to look and indeed saw two large, burly men standing on the platform. One of them was the familiar face, Meng Shan.

Meng Shan, who had beaten him soundly in previous dreams.

Meng Shan's opponent this time was also a muscular strongman over eight feet tall, with a fierce, fleshy face.

In terms of build and the ferocity of their appearance, the two were evenly matched.

Furthermore, Platform number seven was located at the southernmost end of the Martial Arts Arena, with half of it protruding into the middle of the street. Panlong City's common folk could watch the fights simply by standing on the street.

Therefore, the battles on this platform were highly entertaining and attracted the most attention.

Now, the middle of the street was packed with spectators. Men and women alike craned their necks in anticipation, some even daring to stand on the iron railings at the edge of the platform to watch.

The boring daily lives of the city residents needed a fierce fight and plenty of splashing blood to spice things up.

He Lingchuan asked the skinny man, "Whose odds are higher?"

"Wild Boar, of course," the skinny man said, pointing at the strongman on the platform. The man had an oily face, large ears, and an undershot jaw—his nickname was certainly well-earned. "Meng Shan is the undefeated general of the Martial Arts Arena's South Courtyard and has only lost once in the North Courtyard."

"Then what's good about betting on this match?" He Lingchuan asked disappointedly. "Everyone's betting on Meng Shan to win."

"Not necessarily, I bet on Wild Boar to win," Hu Min chuckled. "This guy looks quite promising. Besides, if he wins, it'll be a big payout for a small bet."

Sun Fuling, standing beside him, also smiled, "I also bet on Wild Boar."

"You're a public teacher, a diligent gardener..." he thought. "Is it appropriate for you to gamble so openly?"

Sun Fuling frowned slightly. "What gardener? I don't weed!" she retorted.

He Lingchuan immediately turned to the skinny man and said, "Alright, I'll also bet on Wild Boar to win, half a tael of silver."

"Hmph!" the skinny man scoffed at him. "How stingy!"

He had a large leather pouch on his back, filled with loose change. Clearly, an unusually large number of people were placing bets today, with even commoners outside the arena joining in.

Then, rapid drumbeats sounded.

These were the battle drums.

The moment the drumming stopped, the two strongmen charged at each other like bulls.

Two commoners standing on the fence were instantly shaken off by the residual force of the impact, while the surrounding spectators roared and cheered.

Meng Shan's usual opponents would adopt a strategy of skirmishing and evading, but after Wild Boar entered the arena, he immediately went toe-to-toe with Meng Shan, fighting with brutal, solid blows.

The crowd below enjoyed the fight immensely, often bursting into thunderous applause.

In just a few rounds, He Lingchuan could see that Wild Boar was skilled at grappling and throwing. On two occasions, he grappled Meng Shan and executed a back slam. Even the thick-skinned Meng Shan found it hard to withstand, and had to catch his breath on the ground for several moments before getting back up.

The name "Wild Boar" was misleading. He Lingchuan heard someone nearby bitterly remark, "Shouldn't a boar attack by goring? He should be called a wild bear instead."

This was probably someone who had bet on Meng Shan to win.

However, Meng Shan learned his lesson after two defeats. Whenever he was caught, he would lock his opponent's joints, preventing Wild Boar from using his signature techniques.

Hu Min cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone and roared, "Reverse lock! Reverse lock! Ah, how foolish, a step too slow!"

Amidst the cheers of a thousand people, He Lingchuan distinctly heard Sun Fuling sigh, "It's over, Wild Boar is going to lose."

Indeed, after Meng Shan locked Wild Boar, he suddenly slammed a headbutt onto his opponent's forehead.

That dull thud made He Lingchuan's molars ache just from hearing it.

It seemed Meng Shan's skull was harder. The opponent was dazed, seeing stars, and his grip loosened.

Meng Shan steadied himself, stomped one foot on his opponent's instep, and landed another precise punch on Wild Boar's diaphragm, between his chest and abdomen!

Wild Boar was immediately left breathless.

In the blink of an eye, he took three heavy blows.

Although he later regained his senses and tried to fight back, the outcome of the match was already decided.

The two continued to battle for fifty more breaths before Wild Boar finally fell. His entire head was swollen from the beating, now truly resembling his nickname.

Several Martial Arts Arena guards climbed onto the platform and carried Wild Boar away for treatment. Meng Shan wiped the blood from his nose, patted his chest, and let out a furious roar to the surroundings:

"Who else dares?"

His roar shook the heavens, and even the thunderous applause couldn't drown it out.

"My half tael of silver," He Lingchuan said, glad he hadn't bet more and had just participated for the sake of it. He asked Sun Fuling, "How much did you lose?"

Sun Fuling let out a long sigh. "Three taels," she replied.

"Wow, you bet that much?" He Lingchuan exclaimed. Three taels of silver were enough for him and Hu Min to drink more than a dozen meals at Frost River Tavern.

"Take a gamble, turn hemp cloth into silk brocade," Sun Fuling said, her voice sounding dejected. "Didn't I see the high odds? If Wild Boar had won, I wouldn't have to worry about food for the next six months."

He Lingchuan immediately looked at her with new eyes. He had always thought Sun Fuling was pure-hearted and modest; who would have thought this ethereal neighbor harbored a considerable gambling streak?

This point seemed somewhat similar to her elder brother, Sun Jiayuan.

She added, "Just like that, two years of my living expenses are gone." Burning firewood and charcoal for two years wouldn't cost this much.

Hu Min watched others go to the skinny man to cash out, stamping his foot and saying, "What a loss, what a loss! I should have gone with the majority."

He Lingchuan watched Meng Shan gloat on the platform, somewhat puzzled. "There are many skilled fighters in the Martial Arts Arena's North Courtyard," he wondered, "why don't they go up and challenge his prestige?"

"Meng Shan just recently joined the North Courtyard, but he's a formidable newcomer," he explained. "Ordinary Great Wind soldiers can't beat him. If the commanders were to go up, winning wouldn't necessarily bring glory, and losing would be even more disgraceful."

To be honest, Meng Shan's performance in Yanliang River Valley was evident to all. At that time, two armies were clashing, and many Great Wind soldiers had fought him, knowing well that they couldn't gain an advantage against this human-shaped brute.

Moreover, the Martial Arts Arena's rules generally favored strength-based fighters.

Hu Min chuckled, "As for Commander Xiao and other generals, they cannot fight soldiers on Platform number seven."

"Why?"

"It's not fair. Not to mention that generals' combat techniques are more refined, soldiers face immense pressure fighting their direct superiors in public." Hu Min shrugged. "If you asked me to fight Commander Xiao on Platform number seven, I'd be a bit scared too."

Soldiers always obey their generals' commands, and the latter's authority is deeply ingrained. Once they step onto a public platform, this psychological pressure turns into an advantage, which somewhat affects their performance.

However, at this moment, someone couldn't resist the provocation and leaped onto the platform to challenge Meng Shan.