22: Chapter 22 The grand event is approaching; preparations are underway.

The blue-canopied carriage drove past the street corner, the curtain fell, and that gaze vanished.

Chen Xuan sat on the second floor of the teahouse, the smile at the corner of his mouth not fading.

He picked up the cold tea, took a sip, frowned, and set the bowl back on the table.

"Let's go."

The four women stood up; no one asked questions.

Leng Shuang walked at the front, her cloak fluttering slightly in the wind; Zhao Hongling lagged half a step behind, muttering as she walked, "That group of black-masked people just now didn't look like good sorts."

Liu Ruyan kept her head down, her fingers unconsciously twining around the embroidery thread on her sleeve; Dugu Xue walked at the back, her gaze sweeping over several fleeting silhouettes at the street corner, her hand resting on her sword hilt until they left the South Market.

By the time they returned to their residence, it was nearly dusk.

It was a medium-sized courtyard with three sections and two courtyards, with several old locust trees planted outside the walls.

They had only rented this place two days ago, and unpacked luggage was still piled inside the house.

As soon as Zhao Hongling entered, she kicked off her boots and slumped into a chair. "I'm exhausted. In a place like the capital, the soles of my feet are nearly worn through."

"You're wearing soft-soled boots," Chen Xuan said, taking off his outer robe and hanging it on a rack. "It's not like I made you carry a shoulder pole and trek."

"I'm mentally exhausted!" She rolled her eyes. "The streets are full of people, you can't speak freely, it's suffocating."

Chen Xuan didn't respond. He walked to the center of the main hall and stood still, looking around.

Leng Shuang stood leaning against the door, arms crossed in silence; Liu Ruyan went to the kitchen to boil water; Dugu Xue stood by the window, watching the darkening sky outside.

"I've decided to participate in the Husband Selection Ceremony."

The room suddenly fell silent.

Zhao Hongling snapped upright. "What did you say?"

"You heard me clearly." Chen Xuan grinned. "I'm going to sign up."

"Are you crazy?" She jumped up. "That's the Empress selecting a husband! Experts from all over the world fighting over one woman, blade against blade, fist against fist. You have to win to enter the palace. You want to join that mess?"

"I never said I wanted to marry her." Chen Xuan spread his hands. "I'm just going to show my face."

"Show your face?" Leng Shuang finally spoke, her voice as cold as ice shards. "You think that's a street performance? Banging gongs and drums for people to see something new? That's a place where people risk their lives."

"I know," Chen Xuan nodded. "But precisely because it's life-risking, people watch.

Who doesn't want to know which kid suddenly popped up and defeated an enemy in one move? Which blade is the most ruthless? Which fist style is the most peerless? As long as I make a name for myself, I'll walk with a breeze behind me from then on."

"But the wind around you is already strong enough."

Dugu Xue turned around. "At the South Market Book-Exchanging Old Man's stall, we just finished asking questions, and someone was already jumping over the wall at night to check for tracks. If you plunge into the ceremony, it's equivalent to writing 'Come Kill Me' on your forehead."

"That's why I have to be faster."

Chen Xuan walked to the table and sat down, his fingers lightly tapping the tabletop. "Right now, others are watching me. Once I'm on that stage, I'll be the one watching them.

Who is eager to stand out, who is hiding the deepest, who has someone backing them—all of this can be seen."

Liu Ruyan came in carrying a teapot and gently set down two cups of hot tea.

One cup was pushed in front of Chen Xuan, and the other was placed at an empty seat, as if reserved for someone who hadn't spoken yet.

"You want to use this event to muddy the waters?" she asked softly.

"Pretty much." He blew on the tea and took a sip. "Right now, we're a small boat; one big wave and we capsize. But what if we become a large ship? Even if we don't move, others will have to steer around us."

The room fell quiet.

Zhao Hongling bit her lip and paced the room twice before suddenly stopping. "Then how do you plan to fight? Barehanded? Or with a blade?"

"A blade. That piece of fine iron I collected earlier is enough to forge a short blade. I don't need it to be incredibly sharp, just handy."

"I know a craftsman," Zhao Hongling said. "It's Old Zhang, who used to manage the armory at my house. He's honest and tight-lipped. I'll go find him tomorrow."

Leng Shuang gave a cold snort. "You really think this will work?"

"I'm not saying it definitely will." Chen Xuan looked at her. "But I can't keep hiding forever.

That look at the teahouse today, a glance on the street tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, it might be a blade to the face. Instead of waiting for someone to make a move, it's better to make an appearance first."

Leng Shuang didn't speak again, turning to walk toward the backyard. The moonlight spilled over her shoulders, casting a straight shadow.

Dugu Xue walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. "If you really want to participate, you need a plan.

There won't just be one match, and there won't just be one opponent. You need to deal with different fighting styles and watch out for hidden tricks."

"You're willing to teach me?" Chen Xuan smiled.

"I won't teach. But I can spar with you."

"Wow."

Zhao Hongling exaggeratedly clutched her chest. "A Princess of the Northern Border personally sparring—this prestige is even greater than when my father invited the State Preceptor to lecture on martial arts."

"Stop being flippant." Dugu Xue glanced at her. "I'm just afraid you'll die too quickly and drag us down with you."

Liu Ruyan spoke up then, "They've already started posting notices in the city these past few days. There are nine days left until the registration deadline.

I heard you have to pay a hundred taels of silver as a bond, and you need two recommenders to sign and seal for you."

"A hundred taels?" Zhao Hongling's eyes widened. "Are they robbing us?"

"It's a threshold." Chen Xuan smiled slightly. "To keep out those without money and those without background. However..."

He pulled a jade medallion from his robe and handed it over. "Use this as collateral; it should have enough weight."

Zhao Hongling took it and looked, surprised. "This is... a token from the Ministry of War Vice Minister's estate? Where did you get this?"

"Yesterday at the South Market, I helped an old man who was surrounded by local thugs. He stuffed it into my hand."

Chen Xuan shrugged. "He said it was a thank-you gift, but honestly, I could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn't simple. He's likely some retired official."

"You're something else." Zhao Hongling clicked her tongue. "Saving a random person and ending up with an entry ticket."

"Good luck is one thing; for the rest, I'll have to rely on my own skill."

That night, everyone finished their discussion. Zhao Hongling was responsible for contacting the craftsman and submitting the registration;

Dugu Xue organized records of past ceremonies to speculate on the match formats;

Liu Ruyan went out daily to collect rumors and keep an eye on the movements of various factions;

Although Leng Shuang didn't voice her support, from the next day onward, she cleared a space in the backyard and practiced her sword alone every morning, her sword wind sweeping up fallen leaves with a piercing chill.

On the morning of the third day, Chen Xuan woke up very early.

The sky wasn't fully light yet, and the courtyard was very quiet. He was wearing coarse cloth training clothes, standing in the backyard clearing, loosening his neck and shoulders.

Leng Shuang was already in the field. Seeing him arrive, she didn't speak, only tossing a wooden blade over.

"Practice basic skills first. You have too many flashy moves; in a real fight, you'll fall apart at the first touch."

Chen Xuan caught the wooden blade and chuckled. "You're right to scold me, Sister."

After sparring for half an hour, sweat was visible on Chen Xuan's forehead. Leng Shuang finished her stance and handed over a dry cloth. "Don't just think about looking cool. The blade is the most honest thing; however much strength you have is how ruthless the move will be."

"I'll remember."

"No need for tomorrow," she said calmly. "Start now."

He gave a bitter smile. "You're really trying to train me to death."

"If you want to live, don't complain about the hardship." She turned to leave, leaving behind one sentence, "Don't eat too much tonight; I'll come to supervise your night cultivation."

That night, Chen Xuan sat cross-legged in his room, eyes closed, regulating his breath. There was a light sound of footsteps outside the door; he knew it was Leng Shuang, so he didn't open his eyes.

About an hour later, a faint whistling sound came from outside the window as a thin needle shot in silently, aimed straight for his Jianjing Point.

He didn't even look up; his left hand swung back, and a copper coin flew from his sleeve, clanging as it knocked the needle off course.

"Not bad," Leng Shuang's voice came from the eaves. "Your reaction was half a beat faster."

"If I were any slower, would you have actually poked me?" He opened his eyes and looked up.

"I'll try a different acupoint next time." After she finished speaking, her silhouette flickered and vanished into the night.

On the fifth day, Zhao Hongling brought back news: "The blade is finished; it can be picked up in three days.

Old Zhang said he added three layers of pattern welding and added a fuller to the edge. Not only is it lightweight, but it's also resistant to chipping."

"Tell him not to make it too conspicuous," Chen Xuan instructed. "I don't expect to intimidate people the moment I show up, but I also can't have people see through me at a glance."

"Understood." She nodded. "He also asked if you want any characters engraved? Like 'Demon Slayer' or 'Army Breaker'?"

"No," Chen Xuan shook his head. "It's better this way. The more ordinary, the safer."

On the evening of the seventh day, Chen Xuan finished his day of cultivation and stood in the courtyard, finishing his routine.

Sweat dripped from his chin onto the ground, splashing into small circles.

He looked up at the horizon; the setting sun was slowly sinking behind the glazed tiles of the Imperial City, its afterglow dyeing half the capital red.

Footsteps came from the house. The four women walked out one by one and stood in a row, looking at him.

"Seven days left." His voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.

No one responded.

But he knew they were all ready.