### Chapter 52: The Power of Fans
"Insane… simply insane!" A disciple gasped, staring at the bloodied arena where Mu Rongfeng's body lay.
"Senior Brother Lin, I worship you!"
"Senior Brother Lin, I love you!" A bold female disciple screamed, her voice cutting through the chaos.
Lin Yi perked up at that, his gaze locking onto her. "Junior Sister, the feeling's mutual! I love you to death!" he called back, grinning.
The female disciple flushed, ducking her head, but not before shooting him a shy smile. The crowd erupted in wolf whistles, but Steward Qiao quickly silenced them. "Order! This is a tournament, not a marketplace!"
Just as the noise died down, a shrill shout pierced the air: "Spirit stones! I'm rich! *Rich!*"
A disciple near the front was jumping up and down, waving a pouch of stones—clearly, he'd bet big on Lin Yi. Lin Yi rolled his eyes. *This is the same guy who cursed me earlier.* He almost laughed. If Mu Rongfeng weren't a traitor, he might've *thrown* the fight just to watch this fool weep.
Elder Guan cleared his throat, drawing all eyes. "Lin Yi defeats Mu Rongfeng in life-and-death combat. He wins."
The crowd groaned. *No kidding.* Mu Rongfeng was practically ash. Could the elders *be* more obvious?
The scribe, still flustered from earlier, turned to Lin Yi. "Need a rest before the final match?"
Lin Yi raised an eyebrow. "Do I look tired?"
A fan immediately shouted, "Of course not! Senior Brother Lin crushed that loser without breaking a sweat! What's wrong with you, asking stupid questions?"
The scribe's face turned purple, but he forged on. "Then proceed. Ma Yunliu, enter the arena. The final match for first place begins now!"
Ma Yunliu stepped forward, his posture steady despite the jeers. "Senior Brother Lin, I won't back down. But I'll fight with honor."
"Honor? He thinks he can beat *our* Lin Yi with honor?"
"Ma Yunliu, you're wasting time! Surrender!"
The fans' roars were deafening. Ma Yunliu's jaw tightened, but he stood his ground.
Lin Yi stifled a laugh. *This is getting ridiculous.* But he couldn't deny the thrill of it—thousands cheering his name, hanging on his every move. It was better than any stall in the market.
"Let's make this quick," Lin Yi said, settling into a fighting stance.
Ma Yunliu nodded, but before he could even raise his hand, the crowd screamed again. "Quit! You're no match!" "Go home, loser!"
Ma Yunliu sighed, lowering his fists. "I concede," he said, bowing to Lin Yi. "You've earned first place, Senior Brother."
Lin Yi grinned. "Smart man. Save your strength for the inner sect."
Elder Guan宣布, "Lin Yi is the outer sect champion!"
The crowd went wild. Fans surged forward, waving banners, screaming his name. Lin Yi's eyes widened. *Uh-oh.* He'd seen mobs like this in the market—ugly things, fueled by greed or admiration. Either way, getting trapped in one was bad news.
"Later, losers!" he shouted, spinning on his heel and bolting toward the mountain path.
"Chase him!" someone yelled.
And they did. A tidal wave of disciples poured after him, their cheers echoing through the mountains. Lin Yi sprinted, the *Breezing Wind Boots* carrying him faster than any of them could manage, but they were relentless.
"Crazy… absolute lunatics," he muttered, glancing back. Most were men—*way* too many men. "Where are all the cute female disciples when you need them?"
He veered off the path to his cottage—no way he was holing up there. Instead, he aimed for the market district. Xiao Bei was there, and besides… he hadn't seen her in days. A pang of something like想念 hit him.
*Xiao Bei's better than these fanatics,* he thought, picking up speed. *At least she doesn't scream my name like a maniac.*
Behind him, the mob thundered on, but Lin Yi was already vanishing into the trees, his mind wandering to more pleasant things—like the taste of fresh tea at Xiao Bei's, or maybe… just maybe… tracking down that shy female disciple later.
*处子之香 (Virgin's fragrance)*, he mused. *Never tried that before.* The market women were nice, but they smelled of perfume and desperation. A cultivator's scent? That'd be something else.
He grinned, pushing harder. The market was just ahead.
Pan Yu watched Lin Yi's retreating figure from a distance, shaking his head. *Senior Brother's life is never boring.* He turned, heading for his own cottage—no way he was getting caught in that mob. Let Lin Yi handle his fans. He had cultivation to focus on.
Lin Yi, meanwhile, burst into the market, ducking into an alley to lose the few stragglers who'd kept up. He leaned against a wall, catching his breath, then smiled.
"Xiao Bei's place is just around the corner," he said to himself. "Time for a visit. And maybe… a *real* feast. One without screaming fans."
He set off, whistling, already forgetting the chaos of the arena. Fans were great and all, but right now? He wanted tea, pills, and maybe a quiet chat with a certain apple-cheeked alchemist.
The outer sect tournament might be over, but his adventures were just getting started.