24: Chapter 24 On the eve of the grand event, all parties gathered.

The sky had just brightened. Chen Xuan leaned his wooden practice sword against the corner of the wall and wiped the sweat from his face.

The bluestone slabs in the courtyard still held the dampness of the night. He stepped onto them barefoot, a coolness creeping up from the soles of his feet.

Zhao Hongling poked her head out from inside the house, holding a steaming bundle of buns. 'If we don't leave now, the morning market will be over!'

'No rush,' Chen Xuan took a bun and bit into it, huffing from the heat. 'The ceremony doesn't start for another three days.'

'People have been arriving for days!' She pointed down the street. 'Didn't you see that group on horseback at the city gate last night? Dressed in black robes with longbows on their backs, from the northern borderlands. I heard one of them can take on ten.'

Leng Shuang dropped down from the eaves, landing without a sound. She glanced towards the street entrance, her brow slightly furrowed. 'Not just the north. A group from the south entered the city too, with bamboo sedan chairs and cages for venomous bees. They look like people from the Miaojiang Witch Sect.'

Liu Ruyan adjusted the ribbons on her sleeves, speaking softly, 'I heard from the teahouse waiter that the Young Lord of the western Iron Palm Gang has also arrived. They say he once shattered three bluestone slabs with a single palm strike. And there are Sword Cultivators from Penglai Island in the Eastern Sea, so light-footed they barely touch the ground when they walk.'

Chen Xuan chewed on the meat filling, mumbling, 'So, do the five of us count as having any reputation?'

'You? Count?'

Zhao Hongling rolled her eyes. 'For the past seven days, the sound of you chopping at that wooden post echoed all over the courtyard. Who doesn't know you're pushing yourself to the limit? But others come to show their faces after making a name for themselves. You're pushing yourself to the limit before even showing your face.'

Dugu Xue stood on the steps, holding her sword, her gaze sweeping over the newly opened stalls lining the street. 'These shops all hung flags overnight, specially for the Husband Selection Ceremony.

Weapon sellers, medicine sellers, even fortune tellers are all shouting about who will win the beauty's hand. This isn't a martial contest, it's a grand spectacle.'

Chen Xuan smiled, finishing the last bite of his bun. 'The stage is set. Someone has to step onto it.'

The group walked onto the street. The sun had just risen above the rooftops, yet the entire long street was already packed with people.

Flags of all colors fluttered. Some proclaimed 'The World's Strongest Strongman,' others bore crossed twin blades, and some directly displayed records of achievements—'defeated seventeen masters within three years.'

Models of competition stages were set up by the roadside. A few youths were practicing Moves, while onlookers clapped and cheered.

As they approached a weapons shop, a bald, burly man was lifting a heavy iron spear with one hand, three copper coins balanced on its tip.

'This spear weighs sixty-eight jin,' he boomed. 'Anyone who can withstand ten of my Moves gets it free!'

No one responded.

Chen Xuan was about to walk around him when the man suddenly turned his head towards them. 'Country bumpkins? Judging by your clothes, I doubt you've ever lifted fifty jin.'

Zhao Hongling stepped forward. 'What's it to you what he wears! Got the guts to spar with me?'

'No women,' the brawny man grinned. 'I'm looking for true heroes who can enter the imperial palace.'

Chen Xuan raised a hand to stop her, asking with a smile, 'And what do you plan to do once you enter the palace? Marry the Empress? Or become the Imperial Consort?'

'Hmph, strength speaks for itself.'

The brawny man slammed the butt of his spear on the ground, raising a cloud of dust. 'A nobody like you should go home and tend your fields.'

Before his words faded, Leng Shuang took half a step forward, crossing her arms. A chill emanated from her, and a thin layer of frost actually formed on the bluestone bricks beneath their feet.

The brawny man's face changed, his grip on the spear trembling slightly.

'Don't cause trouble.'

Chen Xuan patted her shoulder lightly, then cupped his hands towards the brawny man. 'Just a friendly spar, no need for hostility. We're also here for the ceremony. We'll see each other on the stage.'

The brawny man snorted coldly, sheathing his spear, and said no more.

Walking further, a clamor of voices came from a teahouse on the street corner.

Pushing the door open, the second floor was filled with young Martial Artists, drinking and boasting around a table.

'You know who's the most impressive?' one man raised his cup. 'The one who uses a chain! Not a whip, not a lock, but linked iron segments. They say he can wrap them around a flying arrow!'

'That's nothing!' another slammed the table. 'I saw a Western Desert Blademaster split a galloping horse with one slash!'

'Still not as good as my Senior Brother,' a white-robed youth in the corner sneered. 'He secluded himself in the mountains for three years. When he emerged, he stirred thunderclaps. It's said he has already touched the threshold of the Vajra Human Realm.'

Zhao Hongling was getting fired up and about to speak when Chen Xuan picked up a teacup and took a sip. 'Is it possible the people you're talking about are actually just... average?'

Everyone turned to look at him in unison.

'Why look at me?' Chen Xuan set down his cup. 'I didn't say your Senior Brother is a fraud. But, secluding for three years and hearing thunder... might just mean it was thundering.'

The room erupted in laughter.

The white-robed youth's face turned ashen. 'Do you dare face me in a duel?'

'Now?' Chen Xuan shook his head. 'I came for tea, not to spill blood. If you're truly capable, wait for the ceremony. We'll meet on the stage.'

Leng Shuang sat behind him, calmly scanning the room. Wherever her gaze fell, the laughter gradually died down.

Dugu Xue stood up and walked to the open space in the center. She drew her sword and took a few steps.

Her footwork seemed casual, but each step fell precisely within the gaps of breathing. Her sword tip quivered slightly, actually tracing a faint crack in the air.

'Is that... Sword Wind Parting the Air?' someone exclaimed in a low voice.

'Not simple,' another murmured. 'If that sword landed on someone, flesh would split.'

Dugu Xue sheathed her sword, saying calmly, 'I was just warming up.'

No one dared to shout loudly anymore.

Chen Xuan stood up, flexing his wrists. 'Let's go. No need to disturb their tea.'

Outside the teahouse, the sun was fiercer. Liu Ruyan fell half a step behind, lowering her voice. 'That man in grey earlier, he kept staring at you.

And the old man selling candied hawthorns at the alley entrance, his ear twitched. That's a reaction only someone trained in listening to the wind to pinpoint positions would have.'

'Oh?' Chen Xuan glanced back. 'Those who skulk in shadows are the ones who lack confidence.'

'Aren't you worried?' she asked.

'Worried about what? Before, I feared standing out because I lacked the foundation.

Now, after seven days of training, I've swung the sword, chopped the post, and I don't even shout 'I'm not afraid' in my dreams at night anymore.'

He paused. 'If you don't stand out, how will people know you can hold your ground? How can you protect the foolish girls who insist on following me?'

Liu Ruyan pursed her lips into a smile and said nothing.

As dusk fell, they arrived outside the southern city drill ground.

A crowd had already gathered in a circle. Two Martial Artists were sparring in the center.

One wielded an iron staff, sweeping it to create gusts of wind. The other's palms danced, and wherever his palm wind reached, fine cracks split the ground.

'Vajra Human Realm,' Dugu Xue narrowed her eyes. 'And neither are just for show.'

Chen Xuan focused, memorizing their rhythm. The staff user favored overwhelming force with broad strokes; the palm user's technique was intricate and fluid, adept at borrowing momentum to counter.

These two styles perfectly matched the 'Heavy Blow' and 'Internal Force' schools mentioned in the 'Records of Past Competitions.'

In under twenty Moves, the palm user struck his opponent's shoulder. The burly man staggered back, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

'Do you yield?' the palm user asked arrogantly.

'I yield!' the man wiped his mouth. 'But I warn you, there are stronger ones yet to come!'

'Then let them come,' the victor laughed heartily. 'Who dares challenge me next?'

The crowd was silent.

Chen Xuan stepped forward slowly, cupping his hands. 'A friendly spar. No need to injure.'

The man looked him up and down. 'You? Dressed like an errand boy. You think you're worthy?'

'Worthy or not, we'll know by trying,' Chen Xuan drew his wooden practice sword from his back and made two feinting Moves.

The movements were simple and unadorned, but his aura was steady, his footwork solid.

The man's eyes narrowed, finally shedding his dismissive expression.

The two stood facing each other for a moment. In the end, neither made a Move. The onlookers silently parted a path, as if acknowledging the outcome of this intangible confrontation.

On the way back, the sky darkened. Street lamps lit up one by one. In the distance, the direction of the imperial palace blazed with lights, like a floating city.

Passing through a narrow alley, Liu Ruyan suddenly tugged Chen Xuan's sleeve. 'The third stall on the left, selling sachets. The cuffs have hidden fastenings. That's the mark of a Mechanist.'

Ahead, on the second floor of a tavern, a dark shadow flashed past. The silhouette of someone holding a blade was outlined against the window paper.

Leng Shuang's hand rested on her sword hilt, her steps faltering slightly.

'Ignore them,' Chen Xuan waved a hand. 'There are many watching. Few dare to actually act.'

They stopped at the alley entrance. Ahead was the main street leading to the imperial palace, now teeming with people—all talented youths drawn by the ceremony.

Some rode horses with sabers at their waists, others traveled in curtained sedan chairs, and some carried bizarre-looking weapons, shouting as they went.

Chen Xuan gazed at the sea of lights, tightening his grip on the wooden sword.

'I used to think living quietly was enough,' he said softly. 'But now it's different.'

Leng Shuang stood to his left, silent, but the tension in her shoulders eased slightly.

Zhao Hongling rubbed her sore legs. 'We still have to get up early tomorrow. I don't want to collapse halfway.'

'You won't.'

Chen Xuan glanced back at them, a smile curling his lips. 'When it's time to stand out, I won't hide anymore.'

He turned and strode forward.

At the end of the main street, the palace gates stood majestic.