Chapter 164: Chapter 162: Heaven-Supporting Drum, Awarding the Champions
The twenty-fifth day of the eleventh lunar month.
It was a fine day, almost too fine.
The sky was a shade of blue rarely seen in winter—so clear it seemed almost artificial. There wasn’t a single cloud, nor any wind. Golden sunlight spilled down, but it offered little warmth when it landed on you, feeling more like a thin, cool coat of lacquer.
Today was the final day of the Shenghai Martial Arts Association, and the atmosphere in the plaza before the Old City God Temple was completely different from before.
The street performers, hawkers, and gambling stalls had all been cleared out. The ground was swept so clean not a scrap of paper remained, revealing bluestone pavers polished to a sheen by countless soles.
A dense crowd still milled about, but much of the usual clamor and commotion was gone, replaced by a solemn, breathless silence. Countless eyes now turned in unison toward a group of people walking in from the edge of the plaza.
Leading the group was a tall, handsome young master in a Western-style suit, flanked by two towering, iron-built giants. Behind them were more than ten attendants and guards.
They walked to the main stage, where someone immediately jogged down to greet them. The two giants and their entourage of guards were stopped, and only the young master in the suit was respectfully escorted onto the stage.
A slight commotion rippled through the crowd. Many people put their heads together, whispering and speculating about the identity of the young master in the suit.
The chatter died down when a light, preliminary drumroll sounded. Everyone subconsciously craned their necks to look at the stage, their faces tinged with anticipation.
They had been waiting for nearly the entire morning, their legs starting to go numb. The final "Champion Conferral Ceremony" was... finally about to begin.
.....
"Young Master Fu, we’ve been waiting for you, our ’Martial Sacrificial Officer.’"
It had been many days, but Zheng Jicang, the General Steward of the Martial Arts Association, still had that same affable and accommodating demeanor.
Beaming, he led Fu Juemin onto the stage.
Where Fu Juemin’s previous "monument seat" had been, there now stood a beautiful screen painted with the "River Cliff Sea Water" motif. In front of the screen was a long purple sandalwood table, on which sat an incense burner, Command Banners, and a tray... a tray covered with a bright yellow silk cloth.
To one side of the long table, a ramp covered in red felt connected to a newly constructed high platform of vermilion-lacquered redwood below.
The most conspicuous object on the high platform was a massive upright drum, several meters in diameter. Its frame was also decorated with red satin ribbons.
In front of the drum stand stood six men, lined up in a row.
Zheng Jicang took the initiative to introduce them to Fu Juemin. From left to right, they were the winners of this Martial Arts Association’s competition: the "Martial Champion," the "Martial Scholar," the "Third Place Scholar," the "Fourth Place Scholar," the "Fifth Place Scholar," and the "Second Champion."
The competition had ended yesterday. The top five were all granted the title of "Martial Champion." The one who took first place was a Martial Artist named Yang Lie.
Dressed in navy-blue martial attire, he had handsome features and a tall, powerful build—truly a fine-looking man.
Fu Juemin’s gaze swept casually over the six men, pausing only on two of them. One, naturally, was Liu Songyang, whom he had personally handpicked to advance to the finals.
Although Liu Songyang had received the true teachings of Ye Zhenren’s "Five Beasts Skill," his age and Martial Arts were still lacking. As expected, he came in last, but at least he managed to snag the title of "Second Champion." In any case, he had brought some honor to the Five Victories Martial Arts Hall.
The other person... was a lean, cold-looking man of about thirty.
His name was Zhang Yi, and he had won the title of "Third Place Scholar."
The reason Fu Juemin paid him any attention was that he recalled one of his men having a small conflict with this person when he had gone to Wusheng to seek a master. He also seemed to have a son.
The man’s strength had been personally tested by Big Cat. He was a genuine Tongxuan Realm Martial Artist who had challenged and defeated half the Martial Arts Halls on Training Ground Street. It was no surprise he could take third place.
Zhang Yi apparently remembered Fu Juemin as well, and their eyes met for a moment.
After sizing up the men, Fu Juemin withdrew his gaze and scanned the sides of the stage.
The people on the main stage were mostly the same as before, but... there were a few new faces.
"This must be Young Master Zhao Tianpeng, I presume?"
Fu Juemin’s eyes fell on a distinguished-looking young man dressed in a blue cross-collared shirt with a black vest over it, a large jade thumb ring on his left thumb. He casually directed the question to Zheng Jicang beside him.
Before Zheng Jicang could answer, the young man himself spoke up.
"That would be me."
Zhao Tianpeng sneered at Fu Juemin, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Young Master Zhang certainly puts on airs. After being invited two, three, four times... I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up today."
"What are you talking about..."
Fu Juemin shook his head, his voice flat and emotionless. "The Zhao Family’s debt of seven hundred thousand silver coins... you’ve only delivered fifty thousand. With this account still unsettled, how could I not come and see things through?"
"You!"
Hearing this, Zhao Tianpeng’s face instantly flushed red. A flash of shame and anger crossed his eyes, and he instinctively started to stand up, only to be subtly stopped by Zhou Feibai—the gray-haired, gray-clothed man beside him—who lightly pressed the back of his hand.
Zhao Tianpeng sobered up instantly. Forcibly suppressing his anger, he took a deep breath, stared at Fu Juemin, and said slowly, "You can rest assured. As long as you fulfill your duties as Martial Sacrificial Officer and help this Martial Arts Association event reach a perfect conclusion, you will receive the remaining six hundred and fifty thousand silver coins. Not a single coin will be missing."
Fu Juemin smiled, pretending not to see the subtle exchange between them. He walked past Zhao Tianpeng and sat down in his honored seat as the Sacrificial Officer.
He then summoned Zheng Jicang and gave a simple command, "Begin when you’re ready."
"Yes, sir."
Zheng Jicang responded with a grin, but as he turned away, the smile vanished from his face.
He picked up a Copper Trumpet and announced with a cold expression, "The Champion Conferral Ceremony... begins!"
The next moment, Copper Gongs set up at the four corners of the plaza were struck simultaneously.
"GONG—!"
The sound of the gongs drowned out the noise. Lion dance troupes immediately entered the grounds, strings of firecrackers were lit, and confetti flew through the air... The crowd below erupted in thunderous applause and cheers.
Several newspaper reporters holding cameras ran out from both sides of the main stage, indiscriminately taking pictures of everything on and off stage as their flashbulbs flared nonstop.
The entire venue was in a festive uproar. While the area below was incredibly lively, the stage itself was deathly quiet. Everyone on it was expressionless, creating a strange, cold atmosphere... Separated by the stage, it was as if they were in two different worlds.
"The Heaven-Supporting Drum!—"
With a loud cry, the beat of the gongs intensified.
Following the cry, on the champion’s platform, the valiant young man named Yang Lie began to move. He snatched a Drum Stick wrapped in red cloth from a nearby attendant, took two quick steps, and leaped into the air, bringing the stick down hard on the face of the massive, imposing, upright drum!
"BOOM—"
"Bravo!"
The cheers erupting from the crowd nearly drowned out the sounds of the gongs and firecrackers.
This part of the ceremony was called "Striking the Heaven-Supporting Drum," drawing on the auspicious phrase, "The Martial Champion is a pillar supporting the heavens." Among all the Martial Champions, only the number one Champion was qualified to strike the great drum.
Yang Lie struck the drum three times in succession. The sound of the drum rolled on, and the cheers were relentless.
After the third strike, Zheng Jicang shouted again.
"Confer the titles!"
After shouting, he turned respectfully to face Fu Juemin, and everyone’s gaze followed suit, focusing on him.
Fu Juemin rose calmly and walked to the front of the purple sandalwood table. Zheng Jicang smiled and reached out to lift the bright yellow satin cloth, revealing six gleaming golden Tokens arranged neatly underneath.
The winter sun shone on the Tokens, reflecting dazzling, cold spots of light.
Fu Juemin casually picked up a Token. Below, Yang Lie, the Martial Champion, squinted his eyes and began to walk up the ramp from the high platform, one step at a time.
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