When will the scorching sun pass, and where can the cool breeze be found?
……
Sihuai City.
This was a small town near the Unparalleled City. Many used it as a transit point on their way to Peerless City. At the end of Sihuai City lay one of the four great gambling houses of the world—the World Pavilion. Beyond it, continuing straight ahead, one would reach Wushuang.
These days, the most talked-about topic in Sihuai City was naturally the Young City Lord of Swordless City, Zhuo Yuean, who wore a mask and carried a paper umbrella, issuing his Sword Challenge to Unrivaled. This was especially true among the gamblers at the World Pavilion, who came and went with real gold and silver. As they passionately debated the upcoming duel, the betting pool swelled to nearly a million taels of silver.
Even the World Pavilion hadn’t seen such a massive wager in many years.
The current overseer of the World Pavilion—the young man Su Muyu had encountered that day, Haoyue Jun—was waving a folding fan in his hand as he gazed at the wooden plaques in the distance. A young man with exceptional lightness skills leaped high into the air and flipped the leftmost plaque. The words on it changed to: "Song Yanhui, Win, 1:2." Haoyue Jun smiled faintly, closing his fan. "It seems fewer and fewer people are betting on our Peerless City’s lord."
Beside him stood the short, stout man who had guided Su Muyu that day, constantly wiping sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. His tone was uneasy. "If Peerless City truly falls, our days at the World Pavilion will become difficult too."
"What’s there to fear? A centipede dies but never falls. Even if Peerless City declines, it will be a long, drawn-out process. The World Pavilion may slowly fade into obscurity, but so what?" Haoyue Jun chuckled. "By then, another World Pavilion will rise in the martial world, and I—I will be its new master. Young man, don’t walk your path too narrowly." Suddenly, Haoyue Jun noticed a rather refined-looking man standing among the crowd below. The man’s expression was calm, his eyes clear, but he seemed slightly puzzled as he studied the plaques above.
"Fresh prey," Haoyue Jun murmured with a smile.
"I’ll go down and take a look," the stout man said, immediately understanding. He hurried downstairs. The young man was quite striking, with a jade-inlaid golden belt around his waist—clearly from a noble family. Combined with his confused expression as he looked at the plaques, he must have been utterly clueless about gambling. Such a person was nothing short of a fat sheep in a gambling den.
The stout man pushed through the crowd and sidled up to the young man, his tone overly familiar. "Is this your first time visiting our World Pavilion, young master?"
The man blinked in surprise, then glanced at the stout man and shook his head. "This would be my second visit."
"Oh? I don’t recall seeing you before. How unexpected," the stout man said, wiping his forehead again.
"With so many people coming and going in this gambling house, you remember them all?" the man asked, puzzled."Hmph. These people's eyes are like a dog's nose. Anyone who carries even a whiff of money on them will be stared at like prey. Then within an hour, they'll investigate the person's background, determine the maximum financial burden their connections can bear, and devise an elaborate plan to strip them clean of flesh during their stay at World Pavilion, chewing even the bone fragments to swallow." A hunched-back old man beside the young man sneered coldly.
"Old Ding, what nonsense are you spouting!" the short, stout man roared angrily.
Old Ding continued sneering, utterly unfazed: "Back then, this was exactly how you swindled me out of everything I owned!"
"I have no interest in the gambling games of World Pavilion," the young man shook his head, then pointed at the wooden plaques above. "I'm just somewhat curious—what do these represent?"
"Ah, this concerns a major event in the martial world right now. Zhuo Yuean, the orphan of Swordless City, is challenging Song Yanhui, the City Lord of Peerless City. You can bet on Zhuo Yuean to win at one-to-one odds—put down a hundred taels of silver, and if he wins, you get two hundred. Or you can bet on Song Yanhui to win—if he succeeds, a hundred taels will get you three hundred. There's also the option to bet on a draw; if you guess right, you still get two hundred," the stout man explained.
The young man shook his head, puzzled. "Why does betting on Song Yanhui yield more?"
The stout man was taken aback, thinking this person was incredibly ignorant, and continued explaining, "Because fewer people are betting on him to win. After all, the previous City Lord of Peerless City already lost to Zhuo Yuean, and Song Yanhui's reputation isn't much higher than Liu Yunqi's."
"I see," the young man nodded.
"But the more important reason is that people love a good story. A nearly forgotten sect, an unknown swordsman no one's ever heard of, defeating Peerless City's top disciple, the Four Swordsmen of Dao Inquiry from Martial Hall, Grand Elder Jian Shanyue, and former City Lord Liu Yunqi—what an inspiring tale! And if he finally tramples Song Yanhui, the current City Lord of Peerless City, underfoot, wouldn't that be the perfect ending?" The stout man chuckled. "Gambling is never absolute; the outcome reflects what people wish to see."
"I see. What's the minimum bet?" the young man asked.
"At least three taels of silver, up to an entire city!" the stout man declared loudly.
"Good, then I'll place a bet." The young man took out a small silver ingot from his pocket and placed it in the stout man's hand. "Three taels of silver!"
"Eh?" The stout man's jaw dropped, his eyes filled with disbelief. After all that buildup, the young man was only willing to bet three taels. Still, he maintained his patience and asked, "And who are you betting on, young master?"
"Naturally, I'm betting on myself," the young man stepped closer to the stout man and whispered in a voice only he could hear.Standing on the second floor, Haoyue Jun, who had been watching them, read the young man's lips and was equally shocked. No wonder this person had said earlier that it was his second visit to the World Pavilion—he was the masked man who had come that day to take the Peerless Token. Frowning deeply, Haoyue Jun focused all his attention on the man, trying to memorize his face.
This person had always appeared masked before. If he could remember his face and circulate his portrait, it would surely be a lucrative deal.
But to his astonishment, the more intently he looked, the more blurred the man's features became below. After staring a few more times, his mind even went completely blank.
Then, the man below patted the short, stout man on the shoulder and turned to leave. Just before exiting, he suddenly glanced back, looking upward.
Cold sweat drenched Haoyue Jun's back!
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