Recently, business at the Imperial City's Spirit Arena had been grim.
And the root cause?
An outsider had stormed through the entire arena, dominating every match.
Sure, the audience loved blood-soaked, fist-to-flesh brawls.
But the people of Heaven Dou City had pride — a deep-seated local loyalty.
To have their Imperial City humiliated by some foreigner? Who could stomach that?
Until this day...
Within the Spirit Arena, the air was thick with the stench of blood.
A lone figure entered.
Plain white robes. Upright posture.
It was as if someone had flipped an invisible switch.
Centered around that white-robed silhouette, the once-chaotic Spirit Arena gradually fell into an eerie silence.
When that familiar white shirt and faceless mask came into view...
The audience's eyes widened.
Then, in the very next second—
A different, more feverish kind of uproar erupted like an explosion.
"Sword... Sword Wine?! It's Sword Wine! He finally showed up!"
"YES! Sword Wine's here to accept that fat fire chicken's challenge?!"
"Where are all those morons who said Sword Wine ran away? Crawl out here and apologize!"
"One strike! Just one strike! Sword Wine, do it like before—flatten him with one blow!"
The arena shook with thunderous cheers.
Beneath the faceless mask, Li Zhexian's eyes were cold as a sword.
Mhm.
Sword Wine was a cold swordsman.
Solitude was what underscored the demeanor of a master swordsman.
Ye Lingling followed closely behind him.
Surrounded by a sea of deafening roars, her blue eyes flickered.
She was genuinely stunned.
Even though the Heaven Dou Imperial Battle Team held prestige in the Spirit Arena...
Compared to the man in front of her—
Their glow paled completely.
Gazing at the tall and aloof back of the young man in front, Ye Lingling blinked. Perhaps... at this moment, this cold Sword Wine... was the real Li Zhexian? She felt as if she understood him a little better now.
The two walked one after another into the VIP box. The heavy door closed, cutting off the outside clamor.
Li Zhexian casually took off his mask, twirled it with his fingertips, and then lazily leaned into the sofa, picking up plums from the table and popping them into his mouth.
"Tch. Playing the mysterious expert is more exhausting than actually fighting."
"Mmm, these Spirit Arena plums are pretty sweet though."
Ye Lingling: "..."
Fine. She had to admit she was still far off.
Li Zhexian's personality was far too capricious.
...
Thanks to the name "Sword Wine," arena organizers personally arranged his matches.
The battle was scheduled for tomorrow evening at eight.
After leaving the arena, it was still early.
Li Zhexian felt like wandering a bit.
He turned and looked at Ye Lingling, who was quietly trailing behind him, and sighed:
"Hey, I'm just going to eat. You still planning to follow me?"
Ye Lingling flicked the fragrant pouch on her waist.
The clinking of gold coins rang clearly.
"I've got money. I'll treat you."
"Yeah, I know the Ye Clan is rich."
Li Zhexian shook his head and gave up.
"Whatever. Follow if you want."
He wasn't worried about exposure.
Sword Wine was famous in the Imperial City—but no one had ever seen his face beneath the mask.
And Ye Lingling wore a black veil. Though her long blue hair was eye‑catching, on the Douluo Continent such unusual hair colors were quite common.
...
They wandered aimlessly through the city.
After being cooped up in the Ice and Fire Yin Yang Well for days, Li Zhexian was in high spirits.
They strolled from afternoon into dusk.
Eventually—
They stopped at a roadside noodle stall.
"One bowl of noodle soup, a side of pickles, hmm... and two cloves of garlic."
Ye Lingling: "Same as him."
"Alright, coming right up, please wait a moment."
Soon, noodles, pickles, and garlic were served.
Li Zhexian rolled up his sleeves, slurped down the steaming noodles, snatched up the pickles, and bit into a garlic clove, letting out a satisfied sigh.
Ye Lingling tried to imitate him.
But the sharp bite of the garlic made her tear up instantly.
Li Zhexian chuckled and shook his head.
...
Dusk fell. The streets grew busy.
Vendors lit oil lamps on both sides of the alley.
A nearby uncle fanned a grill as the scent of lamb skewers wafted through the smoke;
On the diagonal corner, sugar-roasted chestnuts clattered in an iron pot, the vendor shouting loud and clear;
A ponytailed girl sat by a bamboo basket filled with orange-hued persimmon cakes.
The sounds and smells of the alley thickened with the golden twilight—
Becoming a stew of everyday life.
At that moment—
From a wine tent across the street—
A storyteller in a green robe slammed his gavel down.
The sharp crack drew heads around.
Li Zhexian found it interesting. He turned, bowl in hand, to watch.
Ye Lingling followed suit.
—
"Honored guests, lend me your ears. Let me tell you of a fine spectacle at the Imperial Spirit Arena—!"
"That Evil Fire Phoenix—his red hair bristling like spikes—stomped right onto Yu Feng's chest! Crack! The sound of bones snapping made everyone's teeth ache! The arena tiles cracked like a spiderweb!"
"He threw his head back and laughed like a maniac—'This is it? This is all you've got, Heaven Dou?!'"
"The audience fell dead silent! Even the gambling house bookmakers' hands, clutching their gold notes, froze in mid-air!"
"But the madman wasn't done! With a flick of his boot, he kicked Yu Feng off the stage. A fountain of blood rose three meters high!"
"Then he pointed at the sky and roared—'Bring out that Sword Wine bastard! I'm going to break his sword and spill his wine!'"
At that, the storyteller seemed prepared.
With a flourish, he snapped open his folding fan and covered his face—
Because the audience was already boiling over with rage.
People hurled whatever they could reach:
"You dog! Are you even from Heaven Dou?!"
"Talkin' trash again?! I've had it with you—eat this shoe!"
"Evil Fire Phoenix? That's just a fat fire chicken!"
"Just wait till Sword Wine destroys him tomorrow!"
Li Zhexian turned to Ye Lingling.
"Is that storyteller telling the truth?"
Ye Lingling thought a moment, then nodded earnestly.
"Mn."
She hadn't been there that day, so she didn't know the exact events.
But judging by the storyteller's vivid descriptions... it probably happened.
"Got it."
Li Zhexian's gaze returned to the wine tent.
—
The storyteller put down his folding fan, revealing a clean face with a hint of smugness.
Heh—look at that!
This was professionalism.
He knew exactly when the audience would turn on him.
With a bow, he lifted his gavel—still slick with egg yolk—and slammed it down again.
"I'm not done yet!"
"That Evil Fire Phoenix may have some skills—but to challenge Heaven Dou City's Sword Wine? He's far from qualified!"
"The banner bearing the name Sword Wine still crackles with embers over our Spirit Arena!"
"Sword Wine undefeated—who dares speak ill of Heaven Dou?!"
"Just wait for tomorrow's show—!"
Bang!
The gavel struck hard again—
"A three-foot Qinglian Sword shall slay the ragged fire chicken!"
The entire audience in the stall gulped, and for several breaths, there was absolute silence.
Until someone finally roared "Bravo!"
Then, the place erupted—cheers thundering through the tent.
A shower of copper coins rained down onto the stage.
This time—
The storyteller didn't use his fan to block. Instead, he chuckled and held out his bowl to catch them.
"Not bad," Li Zhexian said softly.
He plucked a gold coin between his fingers.
With a flick—
Whing!
The coin flashed in the light—
Landing neatly atop the storyteller's table, gleaming bright amid a sea of bronze.
The storyteller excitedly looked up and around, but couldn't find the generous donor
All he could see—
Was a table across the street.
One bowl was empty.
The other still half-full, steam curling upward.
The diners—
Had vanished.
PS: Read Advance Chapters at https://www.patreon.com/c/ReadJin