Chapter 31: The Grand Competition Begins

At this moment, Ye Jiuyao was still fast asleep in bed, as if he had forgotten the world entirely. A crystal-clear line of drool glistened at the corner of his mouth, and now and then he mumbled the name “Luo Qingyu.”

What was strange, however, was the flow of vital energy circulating around his body. This current neither entered his body nor dissipated back into the world, a most peculiar phenomenon.

Ye Hanzhou had long since led the people of Great Zhou to make all the necessary preparations. Yet, despite their anxious waiting, Ye Jiuyao was nowhere to be seen. It was then they realized they had underestimated the strength of Ye Jiuyao’s mind.

“Prince of Equal Standing…”

“You all go ahead, I’ll wake him up,” Ye Hanzhou said with a dark expression, silently cursing Ye Jiuyao in his heart as he spoke to the others.

Very soon, Ye Hanzhou kicked open the door with one foot, and with a second furious kick, sent Ye Jiuyao tumbling from the bed. The latter groaned in pain.

“Dad, it’s Sunday today! Rest, let me rest!” Ye Jiuyao wailed, pitiful as could be. But Ye Hanzhou’s face only grew darker. As soon as he saw what was happening, his expression changed, and he quickly flew out of the room.

“Father, you go ahead and be mad. I’ll go watch the Five Realms Tournament first.”

“You little rascal!”

Ye Hanzhou was nearly driven mad by Ye Jiuyao’s words. Where in the world was there a son like this? Yet, he had no choice but to accept his unreliable, lazy, gluttonous son, who always seemed to have a perfectly reasonable excuse for everything, leaving him perpetually exasperated.

Ye Hanzhou was deeply aggrieved, but there was nothing he could do.

He couldn’t beat him, he couldn’t out-argue him—what else was left? Truly, he was at his wit’s end.

Perhaps this was the true voice of Ye Hanzhou’s heart.

Ye Jiuyao made his way unhurriedly toward the “Hall of Honor.” By the time he arrived, the top factions of the other four realms were already grinding their teeth in frustration. Even the minor sects and noble families seemed similarly displeased.

Only the people of Great Zhou erupted in cheers the moment Ye Jiuyao appeared, shouting his name at the top of their lungs.

“The Imperial Lord! The Imperial Lord is here!”

“Look, how handsome he is!”

A thunderous chorus of female disciples cheered, and Ye Jiuyao, whose eyes had been half-lidded with sleep, suddenly straightened his attire and smiled. Bathed in sunlight, he seemed to glow all the more strikingly.

“Ahem… No need to be so polite,” Ye Jiuyao said. As soon as he opened his mouth, the crowd grew even more frenzied, each die-hard fan utterly entranced by his voice.

Even Ye Jiuyao was momentarily stunned—he had never imagined his influence could be so great, that a casual word would inspire such an outpouring of adoration.

In truth, Ye Jiuyao’s reputation had already been mythologized by outsiders, though he himself, living in seclusion, was unaware. After all, that battle had been witnessed by tens of thousands; it was impossible not to become famous.

“My lord.”

“Mm, everyone take your seats. Let Luo Yuanhuang do the talking—I can’t be bothered.”

The people of Great Zhou, seeing Ye Jiuyao’s arrival, all stepped forward to greet him. But he waved them off and found an inconspicuous spot to sit. Yet, no matter how inconspicuous, someone’s eyes would always find him.

Before Ye Jiuyao could even settle in, the representatives from the other four realms began to murmur among themselves. “Last time, the Eastern Imperial Clan made a bit of a showing. This time, I fear Zhongtian Realm will be at the bottom again.”

“Exactly. I think the top spot will be contested between the Hall of Yellow Springs and the Demon Source Sect…”

“Don’t be so sure. Have you forgotten about that group of bald monks from the Enlightened Chan Monastery?”

The crowd was abuzz, some favoring the Hall of Yellow Springs, others placing their bets on those brilliant monks.

“Today is the day when the Five Realms determine their divisions—the rules remain unchanged, only the rewards are different…” Luo Yuanhuang’s voice rang out. “And this year’s reward is especially generous, something no one could have anticipated…”

At this, he paused, his gaze sweeping the assembly. Seeing the longing in their eyes, he smiled faintly and continued.

“As for the reward, that must remain a secret for now. Since everyone is so eager to know, let me announce: the tournament begins!”

And so, the grand competition commenced.

The first match was between the much-favored Hall of Yellow Springs and the Qi Family.

The Qi Family, one of the two great powers of the Western Desert alongside the Enlightened Chan Monastery, was certainly not to be underestimated. Yet, support for the Hall of Yellow Springs was overwhelmingly one-sided.

“Hall of Yellow Springs, invincible!”

“Hall of Yellow Springs, go for it!”

Their raucous cheers drowned out any support the Qi Family might have mustered.

“The Qi Family? That fringe clan from the Western Desert? Here in the Southern Barbarian Realm, the Hall of Yellow Springs doesn’t bother beating stray dogs…”

“A bunch of cowards, so frightened by a dynasty that’s only risen in the past few decades they dare not speak, and yet they still have the gall to talk big.”

The Qi Family’s members sneered, but the representative from the Hall of Yellow Springs’ face darkened, and in an instant, he unleashed a terrifying aura. Vital energy surged like a river.

“Qi Family brat, prepare to die!”

“How arrogant!”

The two opponents were both cultivators at the Qi Refining level, their contest a battle of youthful pride. Yet the force of their clash was still astounding.

“Palm of Yellow Springs!”

The Palm of Yellow Springs was the most common technique of the Hall of Yellow Springs, practiced by the majority and honed over countless years. Naturally, its users wielded it with great mastery.

“Shattering Earth Fist!”

The Qi Family youth met palm with fist, his strike tearing the air with the power of the desert sands, imbued with the force of annihilation.

But the man from the Hall of Yellow Springs only smiled, a sinister gleam in his eyes. In his palm appeared a needle glowing with white light.

With a soft whistle, the tiny needle shot forth, piercing the Qi Family youth’s hand. But that was not the end—the needle released a black smoke, which instantly corroded his fist.

“How despicable!”

Onlookers could only shake their heads at the Hall of Yellow Springs’ underhanded tactics, and even Luo Yuanhuang frowned. Nevertheless, he stepped forward to declare the result.

“Qi Refining Stage—victory to the Hall of Yellow Springs!”

The rules of the tournament were simple: matches began with the Qi Refining Stage and continued until both sides’ Xuanqi Stage cultivators took the field. Points were accumulated, and the highest scorer would be the champion.

Each battle grew fiercer than the last, especially the contest between the Enlightened Chan Monastery and Linglong Pavilion.

The women of Linglong Pavilion, swift as lightning, crushed the unromantic bald monks, though some among the monks were not without understanding or compassion.

“Bald monk, you recite Amitabha, but you’re just a fake monk. Lady, you’re mistaken. We are not monks, but cultivators on the path…”

“Silence!”

The woman barked, clearly uninterested in his nonsense, and cracked her whip, its sharp snap resounding through the air.

The crowd exchanged glances, murmuring to themselves, “Is there a story here?”

“Lady…”

“Get lost! You left your child, tricked into your cultivation—my son and I have suffered so much…”

The onlookers nodded knowingly. Another scoundrel, it seemed. Many women wept for the lady of Linglong Pavilion, cursing the monk as a heartless man.

As for the many women of Linglong Pavilion, their fury needed no words. Each glared at the monks of Enlightened Chan Monastery, as if longing to strike them dead on the spot.