Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 37: The Banquet

Fucheng was bustling with excitement. It was merely the Yanzhou Prince’s heir hosting a banquet for the elite, gathering young talents from all corners of the realm. Many traveled thousands of miles to reach Fucheng. During this time, the news of the Sixth Prince of Wei breaking through to the Celestial tier spread across the land, shocking countless young prodigies and causing waves of astonishment among the royal families.

The Celestial tier—the heavens are lofty and unreachable. For ordinary martial artists, only upon reaching this tier could they be deemed strong. This was the mark of a true warrior.

For the myriad young people pursuing the martial path, this was a realm almost unattainable, a distant aspiration.

Outside the city, the Yanzhou Prince owned a sprawling estate, covering thousands of acres. Mist rose from the lakes, surrounded by peaks, sheer cliffs, and lush greenery. The gathering was held by the lakeside, amidst grand pavilions and towers.

Youthful and spirited, most preferred gatherings, both literary and martial. Literature could stabilize the nation and safeguard the world; martial prowess could defend the realm and uphold justice. From the emperor to the common man, all were encouraged to strive thus. The stronger the people, the stronger the nation.

A platform had already been erected at the lake’s center, and several large pavilions nearby gathered the Yanzhou Prince’s heir and his peers. At their age—just past ten, or nearing twenty—ordinary folk would only just begin their journey. Yet these scions of nobility and great families, raised with abundant resources, started far ahead, their cultivation speed incomparable.

“I’ve heard the Yanzhou Prince’s heir specialized in martial arts from a young age, once challenging all rivals in Fucheng. Back then, other prodigies couldn’t withstand even ten moves against him,” someone whispered.

“Then his skills must be quite advanced now!”

All eyes fell upon a youth in a simple blue robe, at once impressive and extraordinary.

Other young talents looked on with heavy expressions.

“If only we could meet the Crown Prince of Jin at this gathering! Among his peers, surely he is unrivaled—a figure to inspire awe,” someone mused.

“Nonsense. If Wang Chuan were here, there’d be no room for anyone else. He’d steal all the spotlight,” another said, exasperated.

“Indeed, he is too strong—like the bright moon, while the rest of us are mere stars, dimmed by his brilliance,” another added, disheartened.

“Look! The Prince of Wei has arrived—the Sixth Prince is really here…”

Yang Hao, seeing him again, felt a flash of sharp light in his eyes and took a deep breath:

This man is no ordinary figure…

Compared to before, his strength had soared!

Back then, Yang Hao felt no pressure facing him. Now, seeing him again, he could no longer afford to be careless.

That resolute yet handsome face was even more extraordinary.

“The Sixth Prince of Wei! Even if he shows himself, it’s pointless—he’ll just disgrace himself. Wang Chuan is already a grandmaster, and none among the younger generation dare challenge him. If the Sixth Prince sees Wang Chuan as a rival, does he really think he can overturn the heavens?”

“No, the Sixth Prince has actually broken through to the Celestial tier—he’s become a towering figure. That’s the realm of the heavens, reserved for the chosen. In such a short time, he’s advanced so far; he must be favored by great fortune and opportunity. So young—perhaps he could even catch up to Wang Chuan!”

“It’s too early to say.”

“Look at him—his whole body is wrapped in energy, true power bursts from his meridians, his strength formidable. He’s finally broken through! After years with no one reaching this level in Wei, it’s a momentous event!”

“Is Wei truly pleased? Remember how they once treated Wang Chuan. Even if he ascends to Celestial tier, becomes a giant, what good is it? Unless he also becomes a grandmaster and defeats Wang Chuan in one stroke. But that seems as difficult as reaching the heavens!”

...

The Sixth Prince listened quietly to these discussions, saying nothing.

This was only the beginning. When the Legacy Estate opened, his true fortune would be found within.

That would be his real rise.

What was today, compared to that?

He would endure for his country; let’s see who would have the last laugh.

The banquet had barely begun before someone could no longer restrain themselves and stepped forward to challenge.

“Zhou Ping, I’ve never been convinced since you beat me last year. I’ve been striving ever since. Today, I will wipe away my shame!”

He looked determined, though his eyes darted to the many nobles below.

If luck favored him today and he was noticed, he could save himself years of struggle.

The duel was just a formality—a chance to shine.

Another young man took up the challenge, thinking much the same.

He was a prodigy among his clan’s youth, dominating his region.

But to stand out in Fucheng, the capital, was far from enough. Here, geniuses abounded.

Indeed, after fifty or sixty exchanges, both displayed impressive martial prowess, but Zhou Ping eventually prevailed.

Both were at the Profound tier, already exceptional compared to ordinary folk.

Yet, it was still far from enough.

They glanced at the high platform, but seeing no great figure beckon them, they left disappointed.

Perhaps it would be better to follow the Crown Prince of Jin’s example—rent a boat, drift down the river, recite poetry amid nature, and compose verses about unrecognized talent to make a name.

Why was it so hard for him to write poetry, while Wang Chuan seemed divinely inspired?

He simply couldn’t compare.

“Hah! With such meager skill, you dare compete here? What a disgrace,” sneered a scion of a noble family.

Indeed, such heirs were naturally a cut above.

Their talent and insight were not inferior; their martial arts techniques were higher in grade and broader in scope, their strength surpassing others.

It could be despairing.

Those of humble birth could only redouble their efforts to achieve higher goals.

The gathering proceeded in an orderly fashion.

There were further bouts—mostly ordinary Profound-tier talents.

For their age, even those who reached the Earth tier were already quite outstanding.

“I am Xu Zhao, and I wish to test Yang Hao’s strength.”

Finally, someone stirred the crowd by calling out Yang Hao directly.

Who was Yang Hao? Previously, he was a supporter of the Crown Prince of Jin.

Most still regarded him as Wang Chuan’s aide; these days, he ran errands for Wang Chuan, networking with Fucheng’s elite and winning the common people’s favor.

He was wealthy—very wealthy!

Everyone was amazed at the extent of his resources, the sums he could mobilize were staggering.

Yang Hao was startled to hear his name called; he’d always practiced martial arts sporadically.

It wasn’t a lack of will—it was simply that he was too busy, making money and conducting business.

He’d just found the banquet dull, wishing instead to seek new avenues for profit.

For a poor youth like him, the chance to study was already a huge luxury; martial arts was almost unthinkable.

In the past, six nations stood side by side; each ruler founded their realm on martial prowess, governing through literature.

Once Yang Hao earned enough, he learned basic martial arts for self-defense.

At times, he grew lax.

Then Wang Chuan appeared—the foremost martial artist of the younger generation, dazzling as a grandmaster.

In the presence of such a figure, Yang Hao felt himself a mere spark, and so began to work harder in secret.

Wang Chuan had instructed him several times, imparting techniques and skills.

How far he could go depended on his own effort.

Now, with little time to prepare, would he really face off against a young talent today?

“I am merely the Yanzhou Prince’s page—I would not win through unfair means,” the young man said. “My surname is Zhao. Out of the prince’s kindness, I was granted a noble surname and the chance to study and train in martial arts. I must repay this debt with gratitude. Long have I admired the Crown Prince of Jin, and since you are close to Wang Chuan, the dragon does not dwell with the snake. How much of his martial prowess do you possess?”

Yang Hao was embarrassed, caught in a dilemma.

Such thinking was misguided; even if Wang Chuan himself was unmatched, it was unlikely Yang Hao inherited much of his talent.

How could he be so formidable?

Indeed, it was meant as a challenge to Wang Chuan.

Yang Hao stepped onto the stage, eyes blazing.

As tales of his deeds circulated, the crowd erupted in laughter.

Most of the talents present were in their teens or early twenties.

Yang Hao, by contrast, was older—over twenty, nearing thirty.

For someone of his age to accept such a challenge was embarrassing; it seemed he was bullying the younger man.

The scene was rather amusing.

“How absurd! Have you people of Yu forgotten?” At that moment, a carriage passed by outside the estate, its occupant mocking from afar. “Before thirty, Emperor Taizong was obscure, and no one believed in him. Yet Emperor Taizu saw his potential, defied all opposition, and passed him the throne. At forty, he ascended to Celestial tier in one leap, and the next year became a grandmaster. Rumor has it he shattered the void and vanished…”

“I had no idea heroism was now judged by age. The Crown Prince of Jin was ordinary for over a decade until he received the guidance of a sage. Know that the more exquisite the jade, the longer it must be polished…”

The crowd was silenced, momentarily lost in thought.

The carriage slowly departed.

On stage.

Xu Zhao sneered and, without a word, launched his attack.

Today, if he could defeat Yang Hao, it would count as severing the Crown Prince’s arm—a worthy achievement.

The Yanzhou Prince’s heir allied himself with the Sixth Prince, so naturally held no goodwill toward Wang Chuan.

Martial prowess meant little if wielded poorly—brute force without wisdom would find little support.

Xu Zhao’s arms turned bronze-red, muscles bulging, true energy surging as he unleashed a fierce and domineering internal force, crashing forward.

Yang Hao grew flustered—he rarely fought opponents, let alone in life-and-death combat.

With wealth, he relied on bodyguards.

His training was mostly routine.

He summoned his true energy, internal force rising, launching a palm strike.

His movements were rushed, growing anxious.

Boom…

Their forces collided violently.

Yang Hao staggered backward, blood surging.

Xu Zhao merely paused, his arm trembling in intense pain.

Was this the martial path that drove so many to madness and obsession?

Was this the pursuit of strength?

Yang Hao recalled Wang Chuan’s teachings, letting his true energy flow faster.

Xu Zhao’s physical power and defense were stronger—he relied too much on brute force. Each clash left Yang Hao battered.

“Break!”

“Destroy!”

Yang Hao finally seized his chance—while Xu Zhao was focused on offense, Yang Hao struck swiftly.

Two fingers thrust out.

The force was swift as lightning, arriving in an instant.

The wind howled like a raging river, momentum overwhelming.

Boom…

After several fierce exchanges, Xu Zhao was forced back, his blood surging.

How could this man be so strong?

A mere merchant, who began training late, could reach such a level?

It was enough to inspire despair.