Chapter Forty-Six: The Battle for Supremacy Begins!

Old Master Meng turned to Lu Han and said, “Whether we can reclaim the Meng family’s position as head of the city rests on you this time, Han.”

“Me?” Lu Han was a bit surprised.

“Zhang Ren dares to set up a public challenge so brazenly—there’s only one reason for that: his son Zhang Mang must have broken through to the ninth level of Postnatal. Zhang Ren is a cautious man; you can tell from the twenty men he sent to capture Ling Xuan. Back then, he probably lacked confidence in Zhang Mang and wanted to force Liangchen into a corner. Now he’s being so high-profile—unless Zhang Mang has reached that ninth level, I can’t think of what else he’d be relying on.”

“Liangchen is not inferior to Zhang Mang. Given time, he would certainly surpass him. But now the whole city knows; if we don’t show up, it’s as good as admitting defeat. That’s where Zhang Ren’s cunning lies.”

It turned out the reason Old Master Meng wanted Lu Han to participate was that he had also broken through to the eighth level of Postnatal. Apart from Meng Liangchen, no one else in the Meng family had done so. If the Zhang family lost two matches and both Lu Han and Meng Liangchen remained on the stage, they would still have a chance.

“Han, just do your uncle this favor,” Meng Lei said, worried by Lu Han’s silence.

In truth, Lu Han was thinking that if Zhang Mang had only just reached the ninth level, he alone was enough to deal with him, but he decided against voicing this thought.

“Uncle, you’re overstating it. Your business is my business—I was just distracted by something else,” Lu Han replied.

“As long as one of you can injure Zhang Mang’s hand, our chances will rise sharply,” Old Master Meng added.

“Don’t worry, Grandfather.”

“Don’t worry, Grandfather,” echoed Lu Han.

Soon after, Meng Lei brought over a collateral family member—a seventh-level Postnatal cultivator named Meng Hao.

“Let’s go,” said Old Master Meng, leading everyone toward the city center.

The city was abuzz with anticipation; everyone awaited the Meng family’s arrival.

“What’s going on with the Meng family? We’ve been waiting so long—don’t tell me they’re scared?” muttered a passerby.

“No way. I’ve heard rumors—the Mengs have every reason to fight for the city lord’s seat, heh heh…”

“Look, the Mengs are here! Old Master Meng is here too!”

The crowd parted for the Meng family as they approached the tightly packed stage.

“Haha, Old Master Meng has come himself—afraid you’ll be disappointed. My son Wang Mang broke through to the ninth level just two days ago. You know how big a gap there is between each level,” Zhang Ren said gleefully.

Though Old Master Meng had suspected as much, his heart still skipped a beat.

Truth be told, even with Lu Han, the Meng family’s chances were slim.

“That old fox Zhang Ren, trying to intimidate us with bravado,” Meng Lei snorted.

“Zhang Ren, you can’t win just by talking—let’s see what you’ve really got.”

…

“They’re here! They’re here! Mingjia Gambling House is opening bets! Two-to-one odds on the City Lord’s Mansion! Ten-to-one on the Meng family!” someone shouted.

“Two-to-one? If we all bet on the City Lord’s Mansion, they’ll go broke!”

“You don’t get it. Big gambling houses all operate this way—they take bets others shy away from. If the Mengs win, they make a killing. And tell me, no one’s tempted by ten-to-one odds on the Mengs?”

As soon as this was said, someone whipped out coins to bet on the City Lord’s Mansion.

“Cousin Han, let’s make a deal—I’ll go second. I’m worried if you’re up second, I won’t get a chance,” Meng Liangchen said to Lu Han, still quite confident. Back when Lu Han was at the peak of seventh-level Postnatal, he’d already injured the Mansion’s chief. Now his grandfather said Lu Han had broken through to eighth-level, so Meng Liangchen had shown no sign of worry on the way.

On either side of the stage, two makeshift awnings had been erected, one for the City Lord’s Mansion, one for the Meng family.

At that moment, Niu Gao glanced toward Mingjia Gambling House, swallowed hard, and couldn’t resist sneaking a look at Chen Jun before trying to slip away.

“Niu Gao, where do you think you’re going?” Chen Jun’s voice called out.

Niu Gao froze in place, but Chen Jun’s next words made him swallow again, thinking he’d misheard.

“Place ten thousand gold on the Meng family for me,” Chen Jun said, tossing him a white coin card.

“Brother Niu, wait!” Lu Han produced a golden coin card. “I’m not sure how much is on here—bet it all on the Meng family.”

“All of it?” Niu Gao drew a sharp breath. A golden coin card—at least fifty thousand gold.

Fifty thousand gold. That’s about what he and Chen Jun earned in a year.

When Niu Gao placed the wager, it caused a stir.

“Where did this fool come from—betting two hundred thousand on the Mengs? Big guy, do you have so much money you don’t know what to do with it? Give it to me, I’ll help you spend it!” someone cried out in mock despair.

Another stamped his foot and wailed, “You don’t even care for your coins—do your family know about this?”

Niu Gao’s quiet “I’m an orphan” left them speechless.

Meanwhile, in the City Lord’s camp, Zhang Ren frowned as he saw the commotion. “Duan Jiang, what’s going on over there?”

“City Lord, someone just bet two hundred thousand gold on the Mengs to win,” Duan Jiang replied, frowning as well. By rights, the City Lord had already announced Wang Mang’s breakthrough; the Mengs had no chance at all, so why would anyone place such a huge bet on them?

“Father, look—” Zhang Ren glanced toward Zhang Yuanqin, seated in the center, on a grand armchair.

“You’ve wasted your decades of life! How did I end up with such a foolish son? So what if you’ve captured their fiancée? Do you really think they’d forfeit this match?” Zhang Yuanqin snorted coldly.

He was only considering the matter from his own perspective.

If Zhang Yuanqin had to choose between a fiancée and the city lord’s position, he’d pick the latter without a moment’s hesitation. But Meng Liangchen wasn’t him.

“Hmph! Mang’er has already broken through to the ninth level—among the younger generation of Tianlan City, he is peerless. For absolute certainty, I sealed one of my own attacks within Mang’er’s blade. No one below the Innate realm could withstand it. Cough, cough…” Zhang Yuanqin said, pulling out a handkerchief to cover his mouth.

“Father, are you alright?” Zhang Ren asked anxiously.

Zhang Yuanqin was the pillar of the City Lord’s Mansion; if anything happened to him, the Zhang family would be finished.

“Cough… I’m fine. Helping someone break through by force always has a price. I’ve injured my vital energy—just need a few months to recover.”

“Old Meng, you do have a tough life. To think you’ve broken through to the Xuanjun realm,” Zhang Yuanqin remarked, eyeing Old Master Meng.

Old Master Meng shot back, “Old Zhang, I won’t die before you do. You look so sickly—your time must be nearly up.”

“You… What’s the use of glib talk? We’ve already chosen our three contestants—what about the Meng family?”

At this, the City Lord’s Mansion’s three fighters stepped forward. Besides Zhang Mang, there were two other young men, about his age, both with the aura of eighth-level Postnatal.

“Old Zhang, you cheat! Those two aren’t from your family,” Old Master Meng said, pointing at the pair beside Zhang Mang. The Mengs knew every young member of the Zhang family—these two were strangers.

“No need to get excited. These two just married into our Mansion today—they’re our sons-in-law now, so why shouldn’t they count? Cough, cough…” Zhang Yuanqin laughed, his excitement triggering his old wound.

“You…”

“What’s the matter? Is the Meng family scared? Can’t find three fighters? No problem—we can lend you two, or you can just surrender,” Zhang Ren said mockingly.

“Liangchen, Han, Hao—you step forward,” Meng Lei ordered.

“It’s him?”

“It’s him?”

Zhang Ren and Duan Jiang spoke in unison at the sight of Lu Han.

“Duan Jiang, you know him?” Zhang Ren asked.

“City Lord, he’s the young man with terrifying martial skills I told you about from Wind Sound Valley. If not for him, I wouldn’t have failed,” Duan Jiang reported, bowing low.

“He’s just that young lady’s hired guard, isn’t he? Has the Meng family truly no one else?” Zhang Ren asked, unable to hide his disdain. Lu Han had left a deep impression on him—he swore he’d teach the boy a lesson someday.

“Lu Han is my grandson, as everyone in the Meng household knows. Do you have a problem with that, City Lord?”

“Grandson?” Zhang Ren was half convinced, half skeptical.

“You two—if either of you meets that brat Lu Han, don’t hold back!”

“Yes, sir!”

“The competition begins!” came the proclamation.

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