Chapter 240: Chapter 229: Gathering (Part 1)
Lu Chaohuan said slowly, enunciating each word, "What do you think Zhao Lin’s chances are against Basang, Bolta, Mai Kun, and Li Taiqing?"
Without a moment’s hesitation, Yang Lin threw up his hands and said bluntly, "I honestly don’t know."
Lu Chaohuan was astonished. "Brother Yang, you’re the head of the inner court. How could you not know? Or are you worried I’ll leak information..."
Yang Lin quickly shook his head and said earnestly, "Junior Brother Lu, to be honest with you, I truly can’t say for sure."
"The last time, the Flame Sect sent five Blood Realm masters to assassinate Zhao Lin. They cornered him in an outpost. If you ask me, under those circumstances, he should have been a dead man, no question!"
"But what happened? He killed all five of them—Blood Realm masters in their prime!"
Lu Chaohuan’s expression shifted. "I also find it unbelievable," he murmured.
Yang Lin picked up his teacup, took a sip, and continued, "Zhao Lin drew too much attention at the last inner sect competition, which is what led to the Flame Sect’s assassination attempt. That’s why for the past six months, I haven’t let him fight anyone."
"For one, I didn’t want to crush the other disciples’ confidence. For two, it was to hide his true strength. Even if there were no assassins, he could still be singled out."
He shook the booklet in his hand. "These are perfect examples. While a martial contest is about strength, performance on the day is also crucial. Knowing your opponent beforehand naturally gives you an edge."
"You’ve thought of everything, Brother Yang! But..."
Lu Chaohuan breathed a sigh of relief, a smile spreading across his face. "Zhao Lin has been training right under your nose. You must know something about him, right?"
"Which Cultivation Techniques does he excel at? What are his strengths? His weaknesses?"
Yang Lin rubbed his gleaming bald head and sighed. "You just have to get every last detail out of me, don’t you? Fine. I’ll tell you what I know."
"Zhao Lin’s Cultivation Techniques include Celestial Frost Fist, Three Yin Claw, Wind-splitting Slash, and the Cloud Flipping and Rain Covering Skill."
"Fist, palm, claw, movement, legs... he’s trained in all of them!"
Lu Chaohuan sounded uncertain. "So many Cultivation Techniques... isn’t that a bit much?"
Yang Lin waved his hand dismissively. "Not at all. It’s only biting off more than you can chew if you don’t master them, but Zhao Lin is proficient in all of them. Besides, what disciple doesn’t have three to five Cultivation Techniques under their belt?"
Lu Chaohuan considered this and had to agree. "What would you say are his greatest strengths, Brother Yang?" he asked.
Yang Lin thought for a moment. "I won’t go into the obvious things, like his power, speed, or his dual Wind and Ice Attribute True Qi. I believe his greatest strength is his practical combat ability."
"Practical combat ability?"
Lu Chaohuan was intrigued. "Elaborate."
Yang Lin said, "Don’t be fooled by the fact that he’s only twenty. His mind is far more mature than his peers. His attacks are incredibly steady, and he has a ruthless streak."
"As I just said, he killed five Blood Realm masters from the Flame Sect. What other disciple could accomplish that?"
Lu Chaohuan mulled this over for a moment, a smirk playing on his lips. "So, you’re saying Zhao Lin is stronger than the likes of Xiao Jin, He Liancheng, and Huang Guanglie?"
"Of course," Yang Lin said with certainty.
Lu Chaohuan leaned back, interlaced his fingers, and smiled. "Now that you put it that way, I believe Zhao Lin can hold his own against those four."
"Those are your words, not mine."
"HAHAHAHA..."
...
Two days later, contingents from the Li Yang Sect and the Southern Suppression Sect arrived in Nan Luo City one after the other.
They were accompanied by officials from the Great Yue dynasty’s Ministry of Rites.
The martial tournament was not just a contest of strength among the sects; it was also a measure of national power. The imperial court naturally sent representatives to be present.
Once all of Great Yue’s personnel had assembled, they were led out of the city by Elder Ruan of the Lotus Sect. They traveled for several hundred miles to Lotus Mountain.
Lotus Mountain was the territory of the Lotus Sect and consisted of seven peaks.
The southernmost peak, Yunhan Peak, was originally a retreat for the Lotus Sect’s high-ranking members. It had been specially cleared out to temporarily house the visitors from the four nations: Great Yue, Weizi, Wuche, and Wuzhu.
"The martial tournament is in three days. Please, everyone, rest well. If you need anything at all—food, clothing, lodging—do not hesitate to ask."
Elder Ruan said graciously after leading the group up Yunhan Peak to a mountain villa.
"Thank you for your consideration, Elder Ruan."
Lu Chaohuan and the other two Sect Leaders thanked him in unison.
This was not the first time the Lotus Sect had hosted the martial tournament, and the villa had more than enough rooms.
The roughly one hundred and sixty people—including the inner court disciples from the three major sects, their Sect Leaders, elders, and other attendants—were all accommodated with ease.
After a brief discussion, the Sect Leaders decided to give the residences with courtyards to the disciples participating in the tournament. The remaining disciples were assigned to regular rooms.
Zhao Lin was also assigned a residence with its own small, private courtyard.
He crossed the courtyard, entered the house, and gave the rooms a quick inspection, nodding in satisfaction.
The kitchen had a stove and cookware, and the large water urn was full of fresh mountain spring water—perfect for brewing his medicinal concoctions.
Zhao Lin took the medicinal ingredients from his pack and first brewed a concoction to aid his Cold Ice True Qi cultivation.
After drinking it, he practiced his fist forms in the courtyard for a while. Later that afternoon, he brewed and consumed another batch of ingredients, this time for his Wind Attribute.
’Better to sharpen the spear at the last minute than not at all. Any little bit of strength I can gain is worth it.’
After finishing his second concoction, with the sky still light and dinner a while away, Zhao Lin decided to rest on the lounge chair in his courtyard.
A short while later, a tribal servant entered the courtyard and lit a stick of incense beside Zhao Lin.
Zhao Lin sat up, instantly alert. "What is this?" he asked.
The tribal servant took two frightened steps back, gesturing and babbling incoherently.
For the sake of secrecy and security, the servants the Lotus Sect assigned to the villas were all unacculturated tribespeople from the mountains who could neither speak nor understand the language of the Central Plains.
Zhao Lin studied the tribesman for a long moment and managed to grasp his meaning: the incense was to repel mosquitoes and other insects.
The climate in Xiuzhao was hot and humid. Even though it was only the third month, the mountains were already teeming with insects.
Zhao Lin sniffed the air. The fragrance was clean and slightly tart. It didn’t make him dizzy or nauseous, and he felt no unusual reaction in his body. Only then did he relax.
"Thank you. You may go."
The tribal servant, with a look of partial understanding, slowly backed out of the courtyard.
Zhao Lin lay back down on the chair. A wave of drowsiness washed over him, and his eyes drifted shut.
Drifting in a state between sleep and wakefulness, his arm fell slack, his hand draping over the inside of the chair’s frame. His fingertips brushed against a series of etched grooves.
’Hm? Who carved something here?’
Zhao Lin’s eyes snapped open. He sat up, curious, and turned the chair over to get a better look. On the back of the frame were two lines of carved characters:
Lu Yuanxiu of the Xingyun Sect was here, twelfth year of Yanhe.
At this tournament, I will take the crown!
"What a coincidence!"
Zhao Lin smiled. Yanhe was a Great Yue reign period from over a century ago. He deduced that the person who left the carving must have been a senior from the Xingyun Sect who, by chance, had stayed in this very same residence.
’At this tournament, I will take the crown... I wonder if that senior ever managed to achieve his goal?’
When evening came, Zhao Lin headed to the dining hall for his meal.
He was a bit early, so the hall was mostly empty, with only a dozen or so disciples scattered at the tables.
Zhao Lin scanned the room and saw Xiang Bao sitting alone in a corner, leisurely eating the meal provided by the tribal staff.
’The Xiang family is a martial arts clan with extensive knowledge of sect histories. Maybe he’s heard of Lu Yuanxiu.’
With this thought in mind, Zhao Lin walked over to Xiang Bao’s table. "Brother Xiang," he asked, "have you ever heard of someone named Lu Yuanxiu?"
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