Chapter Ten: The Wager

Beneath the long corridor of the Martial Star Hall, Yang Zixu was encircled by a crowd, gesticulating wildly as he spoke. His lips curled into a faint smile, still wearing that irreverent, devil-may-care expression.

“Any more bets? If you wait any longer, the gambling houses outside will be closing their books.”

“Yang Zixu, how reliable is your wager? You’re putting such heavy odds on an obscure scholar—are you sure you haven’t spent too much time at Qin Immortal Pavilion lately and lost your senses? You’re offering one to one hundred and twenty odds?”

“What, did you lose your nerve? The three major gambling houses in the Eastern Capital are offering one to a hundred; I’m offering one to a hundred and twenty. Do you dare?”

“Why not? I’ll put down twenty thousand taels!”

“I’ll join too, five thousand taels!”

“Count me in, thirty thousand taels!”

By the time Li Fu approached, he saw what Yang Zixu was up to—it turned out this fellow dared to run a private betting ring right inside the palace!

Yang Zixu deftly scribbled each scholar’s wager on paper, then had them sign their names. Only when Li Fu drew near did he notice his arrival, frantically signaling Li Fu not to come closer or speak to him.

Li Fu, puzzled, craned his neck to see what was written on Yang Zixu’s paper. It was a list of the top three candidates for the Lantern Festival Imperial Examination, written in red ink with the odds clearly stated: one to one hundred and twenty. At the bottom, his own name stood out!

“This scoundrel!” If he didn’t need something from Yang Zixu right now, he would’ve marched over and taught him a lesson!

Just moments ago, Yang Zixu had shown concern for him, but now he was brazenly running a gambling ring, and Li Fu’s odds were the most conspicuous and highest of all.

“Yang Zixu, you bastard!”

Li Fu cursed bitterly, his forehead dark with frustration, and walked off to wait for the betting to end.

...

Soon after, a young palace eunuch hurried over. Yang Zixu whispered something in his ear, handed him the stack of papers, and gave him instructions.

“How did you get out so quickly?” Yang Zixu walked up to Li Fu, stopping three or four yards away before approaching with a beaming smile.

“What were you doing just now?” Li Fu asked, not without malice.

“Oh, nothing, just earning a bit of silver to spend.” Yang Zixu nervously rubbed his nose and grinned.

“Earning money off me?” Li Fu’s gaze turned cold, a frosty smile on his lips.

“Uh... Let me explain—well, you see...” Yang Zixu retreated two steps, making sure he could escape instantly if Li Fu suddenly lunged.

“Go ahead, I’m listening.” Li Fu eyed Yang Zixu’s feet.

“Well... It’s like this... You just arrived in the Eastern Capital, so you might not be familiar with its customs. The Lantern Festival Imperial Examination always has betting, it’s an annual tradition. Nothing too extraordinary. Besides, your name isn’t the only one up there.” Yang Zixu smiled awkwardly, his voice rough.

“I’m not asking about that. I want to know why my odds are the highest.” Li Fu shot him a glare, clearly annoyed.

Yang Zixu relaxed a little. Since Li Fu was only rolling his eyes, he wasn’t truly angry.

“The odds come from the three major gambling houses. Your odds were originally the same as those other unknowns—one to one hundred. They’re offering odds on you making the top three. But I’m different. I believe in you, so my betting pool is odds on you not making the top three—one to one hundred and twenty. Meaning, if you don’t place among the top three, I’ll have to pay out. But I take the money people bet on you losing and put it all on you winning at the external gambling houses. See? I have faith in you!” Yang Zixu said, his face brimming with impish delight.

“How can you be so sure I’ll make the top three? What if I lose?” Li Fu, seeing Yang Zixu’s excitement, poured cold water on him.

“Come on, I can’t sense even a hint of energy from you, meaning your cultivation is above mine—how could you possibly lose?” Yang Zixu shook his head, unconvinced.

“Have you considered that maybe I haven’t cultivated at all? Not a trace of true energy—so you wouldn’t sense anything from me.” Li Fu replied seriously.

Yang Zixu listened, mouth agape, unable to speak for a long moment. True, he hadn’t seen Li Fu in action these past days. What if Li Fu was telling the truth?

“Stop joking! With a teacher who holds the ‘National Policy’ text, surely he’s taught you to cultivate! You’d dare compete in the martial examination without training? Do you expect me to believe that?” Yang Zixu protested, though he had no confidence left. Li Fu’s expression was too genuine.

“Believe it or not, it’s not my betting ring. If you lose money, it’s not my problem.” Li Fu shrugged, gloating.

“Li Fu—you’re killing me!”

A wretched howl echoed across the square of the Han Guang Hall. Yang Zixu collapsed onto the ground, his mischievous grin gone, replaced by sheer panic.

...

Just a quarter past noon, a peal of golden bells rang in Han Guang Hall—the signal that the written examination had ended. In an hour, it would be time for the Lantern Festival martial exam.

“So, you plan to just head into the martial exam like this?” Li Fu couldn’t help but ask, seeing Yang Zixu looking like a lost soul.

“What else can I do? Do you know how much silver I’ve invested? Three hundred thousand taels! Enough to buy half of Chang’an Street! You’re ruining me—if the old man finds out I’ve gifted three hundred thousand taels to the gambling houses, he’ll skin me alive!” Yang Zixu lamented.

“Come on, three hundred thousand taels isn’t the end of the world. Surely the Celestial Feather General’s Mansion isn’t troubled by such a sum,” Li Fu consoled him.

“No way! For this martial exam, I’ll do whatever it takes to get you into the top three! Chu Ge and Mo Yuan aren’t in the capital, but I’ll speak to Brother Yang Ning—he won’t refuse me this favor.” Suddenly realizing something, Yang Zixu’s despair vanished as he scanned the crowd.

“What are you looking for?” Li Fu rubbed his forehead. This joke had gone too far; Yang Zixu was losing his mind...

“Looking for the top young master of the Eastern Capital—Yang Ning. Looks like he’s not here today? Wait, there he is: Yang Ning, the foremost martial talent of the young generation in Tiance. With him backing you up, you’re guaranteed to make the top three!” Yang Zixu pulled Li Fu aside, pointing confidently to a corner beneath the corridor.

“Even you can’t defeat him?” Li Fu asked.

“Me? Forget it. Brother Yang Ning’s spear technique was personally taught by Lord Marquis Diwu. I’d never match him.” Yang Zixu replied, self-deprecating.

Li Fu nodded thoughtfully, his gaze shifting to the corner. There stood a man leaning against a pillar, a refined steel spear in his hand. He was exceptionally tall, nearly eight feet, his scholar’s robe outlining a powerful physique. His hair was jet-black and glossy, swept up and secured in a purple-gold crown, held by a vermilion jade hairpin. His nose was prominent, his gaze as bright as the stars. His expression remained always calm, exuding the aura of an unshaken mountain.

A true general!

That was the reputation Yang Ning held among the many factions of the Eastern Capital. Even the head of the Divine Strategy Mansion had to admit, “Marquis Diwu found a perfect successor for the Tiance Mansion.”

“By the way, where’s my sword?” Li Fu looked at Yang Ning’s spear and turned to ask Yang Zixu.