Chapter 71: All In

Mount Longhu, at dusk.

Darkness was falling.

After watching the day’s matches, Zhang Chulan wandered around the mountain with Feng Baobao. As they rounded a corner, they stumbled upon two people locked in a heated argument, faces flushed and necks bulging with tension.

Cang Long and Bai Shixue.

“All in on Linglong,” Cang Long insisted.

“Give it a rest, you fat oaf. Do you have so much money you can’t spend it fast enough? Betting on that little girl, you’re bound to lose!”

“What did you say?”

“Oh? Are you upset?”

The two glared daggers at each other, voices rising. Zhang Chulan, curious, approached with Feng Baobao and asked, “What are you two up to?”

“Well, well, if it isn’t the famous Zhang Chulan.” Cang Long turned, his tone turning teasing when he spotted Zhang Chulan. “And you’ve brought Feng Baobao. Why don’t I see my dear brother Liangchen?”

“Fatty?” Zhang Chulan was slightly surprised to see Cang Long and asked offhandedly, “What are you doing here?”

Before Cang Long could answer, Bai Shixue interjected eagerly, “Zhang Chulan, want to place a bet?”

“And you are…?” Zhang Chulan turned his gaze to the girl with soft lavender hair standing beside Cang Long. She seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her. Undoubtedly, she was one of the contestants.

Noticing his confusion, Bai Shixue quickly introduced herself. “I’m Bai Shixue, also a participant in the Luo Tian Tournament.”

As she spoke, she handed a tablet to Zhang Chulan. “Here, this is the website where Fatty collects information on all the contestants. I’ve set up a betting pool for the tournament. Bet on whoever you think will win. You can even bet on yourself.”

Zhang Chulan took the tablet and scrolled through the names, soon spotting his own profile—and his face darkened.

“100 to 1? My odds are that high? Am I really that much of an underdog?”

“Of course,” Cang Long snickered. “Your performance in the first match was too flashy—knocking out Cang Qiong, no less.”

Though a little speechless at his own odds, Zhang Chulan knew it wasn’t entirely unexpected. He composed himself and began checking the odds for the other contestants.

As he scrolled, he soon saw the people with the lowest odds: Zhang Lingyu, Zhuge Qing, and Jia Zhengliang—all at even money.

For popular competitors like Zhang Lingyu and Zhuge Qing, such high odds were no surprise.

But this Jia Zhengliang seemed like a dark horse; Zhang Chulan had never heard of him before. Come to think of it, his name was similar to Jia Zhengyu from the Tianxia Society.

As Zhang Chulan pondered, Cang Long chimed in, “This guy’s the biggest dark horse in the tournament—Jia Village’s object manipulation technique from the West. I witnessed it earlier…”

Cang Long briefly described Jia Zhengliang’s abilities, his exaggerated praise making Zhang Chulan click his tongue—clearly, this would be another tough opponent.

They chatted as Zhang Chulan continued browsing, soon finding the odds for Ye Yan and Feng Baobao.

Ye Yan: 50 to 1

Feng Baobao: 5 to 1

Of the North China trio, Feng Baobao had the most stable odds, though both she and Ye Yan were considered long shots.

Spotting Ye Yan’s odds, Zhang Chulan’s eyes suddenly sparkled, as if he’d glimpsed the secret to wealth. Excited, he pulled out his wallet and phone to tally his assets—but upon seeing the meager balance in his account, he fell silent.

After a while, he turned to Feng Baobao and asked, “Baobao, do you have any money left? Could you… lend me a little?”

“Sure.” Feng Baobao checked her phone. “I don’t have much either. I just bought this necklace, so I have less than ten thousand yuan left for pocket money.”

Less than ten thousand… as pocket money? And that’s after buying a ninety-eight-thousand-yuan necklace?

Hearing Feng Baobao’s words, Zhang Chulan was left in tears of poverty. Indeed, the gap between people can be vast.

While Zhang Chulan lamented, Feng Baobao quickly transferred the money to him.

Balance received: 8,056.07 yuan

Hearing the notification, Zhang Chulan, now flush with cash, turned to Cang Long and declared, “I’m betting on Ye Liangchen. All in—everything I’ve got!”

…

…

The full moon hung high in the sky.

Night had fallen over Mount Longhu, casting the world into deep silence. Only the faint chirr of insects rose and fell through the forest, like a gentle string sonata.

After quietly calculating the time, Ye Yan rose right on schedule and slipped out of the room, unnoticed among the chorus of snores.

He moved swiftly through the compound and finally stopped at an open area far from the residences, where he released his three flag spirits: Old Horse Fifth, Wind Ear, and Mali Zha.

The three flag spirits floated before him. Ye Yan’s expression was grave as he asked, “You all know what you need to do. Did you bring everything?”

“All set, Brother Yan,” Old Horse Fifth said, producing a burlap sack, ropes, shovels, and other tools from beneath his battle skirt.

Ye Yan nodded in satisfaction. “I won’t be joining in this time. Old Horse Fifth, you’re in charge.”

“The usual plan: Wind Ear keeps watch, Old Horse Fifth handles the sack, Mali Zha ties them up and knocks them out. Teach our target a lesson, but be quick and clean—leave no traces.”

“Understood?” he asked.

“Understood!” The three flag spirits thumped their chests in unison.

“Go, then.” Ye Yan waved his hand, and the three spirits shot off in blue streaks of light back in the direction he’d come.

When they had disappeared from sight, Ye Yan turned and slipped toward the little grove behind the mountain, moving like a shadow.

Traveling at full speed, he covered the considerable distance from the clearing to the grove in just a few minutes.

Upon arrival, he stopped beneath a crooked old tree and waited silently.

Before long, a figure crept up behind him and leaned close, a pair of soft hands carrying a faint scent of osmanthus gently covering his eyes.

“Guess who?” a tender voice murmured at his ear. He didn’t hesitate; he already knew who it was.

Xia He…

Ye Yan grasped the hands over his eyes, resigned. “Aren’t you a little old to be playing these girlish games? Aren’t you embarrassed?”

A low chuckle escaped Xia He as she swiftly pulled her hands back. Then Ye Yan felt a sharp pain at his waist and heard her cold, mocking laughter.

“So, you mutt—you’re really starting to think I’m old and ugly, aren’t you? Planning to chase after some pretty young thing?”

“Say it to my face.”

Xia He was relentless in her teasing.

Ye Yan grimaced in pain. “Ow—stop it! When did I ever say that?”

“You didn’t say it? So you’ve just thought it, huh? Oh, you dog—now you’ve done it, I’m coming for you!”

Ye Yan could only sigh in defeat.