Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Duel

Three days passed in this manner.

Fan Bei occasionally went out to observe and discovered that there were sixteen people from Lin Zhongshi’s group in total. Most of them were clearing weeds at the bend of the valley road, stretching lines to mark boundaries.

According to the contract, they delineated a perfectly square plot of fifty mu. Once the boundaries were marked, they began planting trees along the lines.

Curious, Fan Bei asked and learned that the species of tree they were planting could repel low- and mid-level malevolent entities.

He didn’t question why none of them wore armor; he noticed that all of them possessed spiritual cultivation above the bronze tier.

Of course, that only applied to their spiritual prowess. In terms of physical strength, he doubted most of them could even defeat Dabai...

If Dabai could ever become a cold-blooded creature, it would certainly be a terrifying killer among dogs. Unfortunately, with its foolish character, that path was forever closed to it.

That day, August 8th, while Fan Bei was hunting wandering evil spirits in the valley with Dabai, he spotted an off-road vehicle driving toward the exit of the valley along the main road.

He stood on the mountainside, thoughtful.

Before long, the radio at his waist crackled to life.

He answered, and Chef He’s voice came through.

“Mr. Fan, Mr. Lin is heading to Silver City. Before leaving, he asked me to give you two books.”

“I’ll head back right away.”

Hurrying back to the shelter, Fan Bei received the two books from Chef He.

One was “Key Points for Meditation,” the other, “The Mutual Enhancement of Physical Training and Meditation.”

He flipped through them quickly, his heart stirred.

The first book explicitly stated, “When practicing any meditation method, strive for precision and depth rather than quantity; focus your attention on a single point.”

Indeed, a true teaching boils down to a single phrase, while false learning fills volumes.

What Lang Sheng had spent years and many detours to comprehend, the author had written plainly in the book.

Neither book contained specific cultivation techniques; both were collections of experience and personal insight. To him, such insights were even more precious.

As he browsed, the radio sounded again.

This time it was He Xixi.

“Mr. Fan, the Silver Chamber of Commerce invites you to attend the Golden Duel Tournament in Silver City two days from now. All participants will receive a generous gift package and one year of VIP membership in the Chamber. If you accept, they’ll send someone to escort you personally.”

“Golden Duel Tournament?” So Lin Zhongshi was that formidable—a gold-tier master as well?

But from previous introductions, his talent wasn’t considered high, and Lin Zhongqing had only reached gold-tier by spending vast sums. Fan Bei didn’t buy it; Lin Zhongshi was likely infinitely close to the gold tier, perhaps capable of challenging beyond his level. This “Golden Duel” was simply a ruse and a psychological tactic.

The Silver Chamber was clearly adept at backstage maneuvering—bringing in Lin Zhongshi to oppose his own sister. No matter the outcome, Lin Zhongqing’s reputation would suffer. If she lost, that went without saying; if she won, people would wonder what kind of partner couldn’t even tolerate his own brother.

They had secured an unbeatable position from the outset. Their only miscalculation was Wu Zicheng, the pawn used to test Lin Zhongqing’s strength.

But for them, it was probably inconsequential. After so many days, there was no further movement.

After some thought, Fan Bei decided to go; this was a rare opportunity to gain real combat experience.

Lin Zhongshi was a hero who had fought his way out of the north, while Lin Zhongqing was a top master within a thousand kilometers. Their clash would showcase the pinnacle of human combat in this world.

As for possible risks, Fan Bei had considered them carefully. The Silver Chamber’s style and modus operandi were clear—they sought to maintain commercial order on the surface and would not act directly against their clients.

For a long time, he would have to deal with them in a game of feigned intimacy.

Under these circumstances, his visit to Silver City would actually obligate them to guarantee his safety.

Of course, he would take all necessary precautions.

He found Iron Ball Xiaobai and handed it a bag of spiritual cores—over fifty in total, some freshly acquired by Dabai over the past three days, and more than twenty previously submitted by Chef He.

With Dabai’s system, collecting a dozen in a day was already impressive. For others, hunting in the wild might yield less than one a day.

Indeed, killing just one spirit would be worth one or two months of Chef He’s salary. Risking one’s life certainly paid better than a safe job.

“This is your security fee, to be settled monthly. You’re responsible for my safety,” Fan Bei said, allowing no argument. “This is the directive of that honored lord.”

“Oh, understood.” Xiaobai accepted cheerfully, swallowing the lot in one go. Having become a dog, there was no harm in embracing it fully...

And Fan Bei had no worries about betrayal—unless Xiaobai was willing to abandon the enormous benefits of the system.

...

The next day, Fan Bei met the person sent by the Silver Chamber to escort him—a familiar face: Xie Bo.

As always, Xie Bo wore a suit, impeccably polite, the model of courtesy.

“Manager Xie, it’s too much trouble for you to come in person,” Fan Bei said with feigned modesty, shaking hands vigorously.

“Not at all; you’re a priority client for our new development. It seems you’ve cleared out the evil spirits here. I’m truly impressed,” Xie Bo praised sincerely. “You’re clearly a cultivation prodigy, reaching bronze tier in such a short time.”

“It’s adequate. Openness brings progress; isolation breeds ignorance,” Fan Bei replied with meaning.

They joked and chatted like old friends who hadn’t met in years before boarding the sole large jeep dispatched by the Silver Chamber.

Xie Bo drove personally, with Fan Bei in the passenger seat.

Dabai leapt nimbly into the back, while He Xixi sat beside it, holding a sandalwood box containing the Iron Ball.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Xie Bo casually asked, “That iron ball—may I ask what kind of treasure it is?”

“Oh, it’s an avatar bestowed by an esteemed protector of our shelter, to ward off evil. I carry it with me for safety,” Fan Bei replied candidly.

“It seems you are truly blessed, Mr. Fan.” Xie Bo started the engine and, without hesitation, accelerated.

The valley scenery on either side began to blur past in under a minute.

Fan Bei was a bit surprised. The road beneath them was in terrible disrepair, untouched for over a decade—yet Xie Bo dared to drive so fast?

What’s more, the ride was astonishingly smooth, comparable to a high-speed train from his previous life.

Sensing Fan Bei’s curiosity, Xie Bo explained with a hint of pride, “This is a driving technology developed by our boss—‘Cloud Mist Glide.’ Take a look at the wheels and you’ll understand.”

Fan Bei leaned toward the open window and glanced at the wheels.

He saw a mass of gray-brown mist enveloping each wheel, shifting with the subtle undulations and bumps of the road. The mist even possessed some offensive ability, leveling high undergrowth before the vehicle passed.

He understood at once: it was as if a level surface was laid beneath the vehicle in real time, contouring to the terrain below while keeping the ride above stable and flat.

“Amazing,” Fan Bei said sincerely.

In commerce, transport comes first. They had grasped the core principle; no wonder their development was so rapid.

The more Fan Bei learned about the Silver Chamber, the more he realized it was a true behemoth—one that was still on the rise.

“Haha, there are many flaws. For one, only drivers above the bronze tier can operate these vehicles. The vehicles can’t be too large, nor carry too much weight, and they’re limited to relatively flat roads. On developed road sections like these it’s fine, but in real mountain terrain, marshes, or river networks, it’s useless.

“Even so, it’s impressive. We must be doing one hundred and fifty kilometers per hour?” Fan Bei guessed, watching the mountains flash by.

“Close—one sixty-three,” Xie Bo checked the dashboard and gave the precise figure.

At this speed, with Silver City lying over three hundred kilometers southeast as the crow flies—and over five hundred by road—they would arrive in just over three hours.