Chapter Sixty-Nine: Victory and Defeat

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The Grand Arena in the Golden District of Silver City.

Fan Bei sat inside a luxurious private box, gazing through a fine mesh of golden wires at the scene below.

Beneath him rose a tall marble platform, its perimeter shrouded by a delicate, pale-gold mesh, resembling an enormous gilded cage.

Inside the box, a young woman, strikingly beautiful, served him and He Xixi tea and water.

Da Bai squatted on the floor, scratching his head in boredom, toying with the small iron ball, Xiao Bai.

What’s so interesting about humans fighting? If it were two dogs, I might be a bit more interested...

Fan Bei scrutinized the golden wire mesh before him, noticing it was identical to those used for ventilation and drainage in the shelters.

Out of curiosity, he asked, “Excuse me, miss, isn’t this defense a bit too flimsy? Won’t there be problems?”

The lovely attendant smiled demurely. “Sir, do you think the fighters here are all capable of flying, burrowing, or splitting mountains with a single palm?”

“Well, yes, that’s exactly what I thought,” Fan Bei admitted earnestly.

Golden Rank—a title reserved for peerless experts. If you can’t split a mountain with a blow, can you truly call yourself Golden?

The attendant remained impeccably polite. “Actually, the physical destructive power of combatants here doesn’t surpass that of the world’s former heavyweight boxing champions. The real duel lies in spiritual might. The arena restricts the manipulation of spiritual essence, so neither side can summon too much for destructive attacks.”

Fan Bei was suddenly enlightened—and impressed. Even a service staff member was so professional, a testament to the depth of the Silver Chamber of Commerce.

At the same time, he gleaned insight into Lin Zhongqing’s formidable background; otherwise, the Chamber could simply restrict an opponent’s access to spiritual essence and crush them without effort.

If an ordinary person blindly tried to imitate Lin Zhongqing, they’d likely have died a hundred deaths already. Without understanding why she dared and was able to do so, mere imitation was a dead end.

From this single exchange, he already felt his visit worthwhile. The limitation on spiritual essence was an immensely valuable clue, letting him glimpse the hidden laws of the mystical world.

He immediately understood why Lin Xiaohong had previously said that humans could never contend with high-level evil spirits.

As they conversed, an announcement echoed throughout the arena.

“Partners of the Silver Chamber of Commerce, thank you for your support. Today, we present an elite spectacle—a duel between two Golden Rank masters, hailing from the North…”

As the broadcast played, the attendant switched on a large screen embedded in the box’s wall, displaying the events on the high platform.

Fan Bei could either watch the battle directly through the mesh or via the screen. Naturally, he chose the latter, given the platform was a hundred meters away and he lacked eagle-eyed vision to make out faces.

Years of diligent reading had at least spared him nearsightedness—a lesson well learned from his past life.

By now, two figures had appeared on the platform, one to the north and one to the south.

Lin Zhongshi’s upright stance was immediately recognizable to Fan Bei, who’d become familiar with him in recent days.

As for Lin Zhongqing, this was Fan Bei’s first time seeing her. She wasn’t an entertainment celebrity and wouldn’t be seen on the streets.

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Dark hair, exquisite features, striking beauty, graceful bearing, and an unapologetic air of pride—as though she herself were the world’s center.

That was Fan Bei’s instant impression.

Seeing her, Fan Bei realized immediately: expecting someone like this to be a butler for anyone else was pure fantasy.

A woman’s voice now sounded from the screen.

“Do you know? If it weren’t for you, I’d never appear on this stage like a clown, putting myself on display.”

Her tone dripped with boredom and disdain.

Lin Zhongshi bowed his head slightly.

“Forgive me. I know this is their ploy, but I’ve always wanted a stage like this to issue a formal challenge to you, sister.”

“Very well. Today, I’ll show you exactly where you belong. Never overreach, lest I have to bring your corpse home one day,” Lin Zhongqing replied coldly.

“Thank you,” Lin Zhongshi bowed respectfully, his sincerity apparent. “Then, sister, I’ll make my move now.”

“Good. You haven’t forgotten my preference,” Lin Zhongqing replied, somewhat satisfied.

Fan Bei watched as, on the big screen, white vapor began to gather around Lin Zhongshi’s upright form. Yet the amount was scant, far less fierce than the black flames that had once raged around Wu Zicheng.

In less than ten seconds, Lin Zhongshi’s gaze sharpened, and he stepped forward, unleashing a punch.

Nothing seemed to change before his fist.

Then his entire body wilted, dropping to one knee.

Across from him, Lin Zhongqing’s eyes remained haughty and utterly indifferent.

Fan Bei hadn’t quite understood what happened, but fortunately, the big screen offered a slow-motion replay in the bottom left corner.

He saw it clearly: after Lin Zhongshi struck, a thread of dark-gold light, fine as a needle, shot suddenly from between his index and middle fingers.

In an instant, it struck Lin Zhongqing’s body, several dozen meters distant.

Yet she didn’t move, as if completely unaware.

The entire process was calm and rippleless. Without the slow-motion replay, everyone might have assumed the two were merely acting.

Having seen it, both Fan Bei and the attendant gasped.

At that moment, exclamations from other boxes echoed through the screen:

“That’s unmistakably a Golden Rank attack! And at least Level 2 in intensity!”

“How can that be? Didn’t Lin Zhongqing just recently reach the Golden Rank? She actually withstood it?”

“So the rumors are true—she’s found an even greater and more mysterious patron, one who truly favors her!”

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“Hmph, the more powerful and mysterious, the faster the downfall,” someone scoffed sourly.

After a moment, Lin Zhongshi laboriously raised his head, looking utterly defeated.

“So it’s true, then? Even after exhausting all my reserves, even at the cost of my cultivation regressing to Bronze, this strike was nothing to you—just a breeze across your face.”

“You’re not bad,” Lin Zhongqing replied, her gaze complex and slow. “Aside from me, not a soul here—not within a thousand miles—could best you in a fair fight.”

Lin Zhongshi threw his head back and laughed. “Do you think those people are my real opponents? No, I’ve never regarded them as such!”

Lin Zhongqing bit her lip, said nothing more, and silently left through a recessed southern exit.

“Ah, another one driven mad,” came the audience’s commentary.

“Lin Zhongqing is truly formidable. That level of attack—we wouldn’t dare even approach, yet she didn’t flinch, taking it head-on!”

“Lin Zhongshi is the real prodigy. From his words, he aims to challenge those beings…”

“Foolish dreams. Impossible. Humans are flesh and blood—both mind and body have limits. Without spiritual essence, if you try to throw a ten-ton punch, your own muscles and bones would shatter first.”

Fan Bei made no comment, though he felt something about Lin Zhongqing’s performance was off.

Thinking of her disposition, a suspicion formed. He immediately opened “Father of the System”—the Butler System page.

Sure enough:

“Host has suffered a powerful soul attack.”

“Host has adamantly refused the system’s automatic soul protection.”

“Host’s soul has been severely damaged. Power has plummeted, entering forced protection.”

Pride is an illness—and it needs a cure.

He’d known it: she would never rely on the system to fight her own brother. Her pride simply wouldn’t allow her to use “cheats” for an easy victory.

In fact, she had lost this match!

Lin Zhongshi could at least still speak, even shout to the heavens, though the cost was steep—a direct drop in rank.

If it weren’t for the system’s forced soul protection, Lin Zhongqing would likely have collapsed into a coma, her fate left to her brother’s mercy.

If the person on stage had been the “good guy” host, Lang Sheng, he’d have used the system’s soul shield without hesitation—used it thoroughly to showcase his strength, and, with his gentlemanly nature, would have consoled Lin Zhongshi as well…

Such is fate—character determines destiny.

At that thought, inspiration struck Fan Bei, and he hurried to perform system maintenance.