Chapter Seventy-Four: Awkward

“Brother Liu Yang, I like you.”
“I like you too, Yao.”
“But there’s a scar on my face. I’m not worthy of you.”
“It’s all right. I, Liu Yang, happen to like just that.”
“Brother Liu Yang, you’re so good.”
“And so are you, Yao.”
“Brother Liu Yang.”
“Yao.”
The two gazed at each other with deep affection, their lips drawing closer and closer, just about to touch.

But...

“Hey, hey! Liu Yang, you’re off work. And you, grinning like that—are you having a spring dream? Ugh, drooling at your age? I despise you.”
Liu Yang climbed up from his desk, a little disoriented, and saw his buddy’s rough face, finally snapping out of his reverie. He suddenly jumped from his chair, grabbed his things, and dashed outside.
“I’ll head home first, see you tomorrow!”
“Damn! What’s gotten into you lately? Slacking off and napping at work every day, vanishing as soon as it’s time to clock out…”

He didn’t hear a word his friend said behind him. All Liu Yang could think about was getting home to continue advancing the plot of “Mystic Cultivator.”

Over these days of tireless cultivation, his feelings for Meng Yao in the game had grown ever deeper. And since she was an apothecary, he promptly handed her the recipe for the Marrow Cleansing Pill and used vast resources to help her experiment with alchemy, successfully making her a highly respected alchemist.

The Marrow Cleansing Pill could slightly improve a cultivator’s talent. Once Meng Yao became an alchemist, Liu Yang gained an endless supply of these pills. With such resources at his disposal, even though the pill wasn’t meant to aid cultivation, he forced his way to the third tier of Mystic Cultivator in just over two months!

For someone his age, such cultivation made him a prodigy, even when viewed across the entire nation of Xuanwu.

Now, Liu Yang felt that his cultivation alone was enough to suppress Yan Li, and that was not even counting the fortuitous encounters he’d had recently. If those were included, he reckoned he could take on ten Yan Lis with one hand.

“In the game, it’ll be the Mystic Sect entrance competition in a day. Then I’ll trample Yan Li and hold Meng Yao in my arms... Ah—”

Just imagining it sent a shiver through his body, as if his soul had been exhilarated, let alone actually experiencing it himself.

He rushed home at the fastest speed, quickly finished dinner, and impatiently logged into the game.

...

...

“Brother Liu Yang, what’s wrong?”
On the carriage,
Meng Yao sensed Liu Yang’s body tremble and turned to him, her bright and beautiful eyes full of worry.
“What could be wrong?” Feeling her concern, Liu Yang laughed heartily.
“Yao, this time at the Mystic Sect’s competition, if I take first place, the thing you promised me…”
Hearing his words, Meng Yao’s worry was instantly replaced by shyness. Her voice was barely above a whisper:
“That depends on you taking first place, Brother Liu Yang…”

While they spoke, they soon arrived at their destination—the largest martial hall in Piaoyang City.

After getting out, Liu Yang gazed upon the vast crowd, like a sea of humanity.
The major families of Piaoyang City had all gathered here.
The younger generation was eager, getting ready to showcase their skills in the competition.

Seeing this, Liu Yang told Meng Yao to stay in the carriage. After all, his purpose here was to humiliate Yan Li, which would surely offend the Yan family completely. If enraged, they might even hunt him down.

He wasn’t afraid for himself,
but worried that the Yan family might vent their anger on Meng Yao.
He was confident he could escape with her, but couldn’t guarantee her safety completely.
So, to be prudent, this banquet of betrayal was one he had to face alone.

Entering the martial hall, Liu Yang immediately registered with the help of the staff and received his number: 1724.
“You’re assigned to Arena No. 17.”
“There are 52 people there, matched in pairs. The winner of each round advances, and only one person moves on to the final selection.”

After hearing the rules, Liu Yang frowned. The rules were ridiculously simple, yet extremely harsh.
Out of fifty-two, only one could advance, and even then, they wouldn’t become a disciple of the Mystic Sect, merely earning the chance to compete.
He put away his number plate, didn’t hesitate, and headed straight for the arena.

Soon, he arrived at Arena No. 17.
“Well, well, isn’t it Liu Yang the useless? Didn’t think you’d really dare to enter the Mystic Sect entrance competition!”
Just as Liu Yang was about to find a place to sit and wait for the match to start, a familiar voice came from not far away.
He looked over and immediately saw Liu Jinglong walking towards him.

Compared to three months ago, Liu Jinglong had changed greatly.

His face had shed some masculinity and gained a hint of femininity.
[His third leg was broken by someone]
[Never offend a woman]

Seeing the comments, Liu Yang swallowed hard.
“The way I am now is all thanks to you! You’d better pray you don’t run into me, or I’ll make you end up just like me.”
Liu Jinglong saw Liu Yang’s expression change, knowing he had realized his current predicament,
and spoke venomously.

“I’ll be waiting to see,” Liu Yang replied.

“Hmph!” Liu Jinglong snorted coldly and turned to leave.
He feared that if he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t be able to resist attacking Liu Yang.
If he vented his anger now, he’d violate the Mystic Sect’s rules; not to mention anything else, even his Liu family wouldn’t let him off.

After Liu Jinglong left, Liu Yang sat down and waited quietly.
He’d been restless before, but now that revenge was at hand, his heart was calm.

Soon, registration ended and the competition was announced.
Contestants were called to the stage one by one.
Some matches ended instantly due to overwhelming strength, while others were closely contested.

Fortunately, the first tier of Mystic Cultivators didn’t have much mystic energy, so at most, five minutes of intense combat could be sustained, keeping the tournament from dragging.

“1723, 1724, please step onto the stage within ten seconds. If you exceed the time, you will be considered to have forfeited.”
Hearing his number called, Liu Yang rose immediately, leapt onto the arena, and cupped his fists, waiting for his opponent.
After about three seconds, a thin young man rushed onto the stage.

He originally wanted to announce his name to boost his own morale, but upon seeing Liu Yang, he was startled and immediately raised both hands above his head.
“I admit defeat! I admit defeat!”
Sweat broke out on his forehead as he cursed his luck. He was familiar with Liu Yang from the Mystic Beast Mountains, knowing full well that this man could slay even tier-three mystic beasts.
He had only a few pounds of flesh—he wasn’t even enough for Liu Yang to flick with one finger.