Chapter Fourteen: An Unexpected Duel

As he was lost in thought, a pleasant and unfamiliar voice sounded beside him: “Sir, is there anything you need?” He realized he was already at the entrance of a clothing store. Just as he was about to speak, Die Shang stepped forward and said, “Shopkeeper, my young master needs some clothes for changing. Please take his measurements first.”

The shopkeeper was quick and efficient, measuring Yun Yufeng’s size with a ruler as he asked, “Sir, what kind of clothes are you looking for? We have short robes, fitted attire, cloaks, long robes, undergarments—everything you could want.”

“Then three sets of fitted attire, ten long robes, and thirteen sets of undergarments. For the long robes, white will be the main color. For the others, shopkeeper, you may choose as you see fit—just keep the colors subdued, nothing too flashy.”

“Very well. We have several types of fabric, each with different prices. Which would you prefer?”

Yun Yufeng sat down on a nearby bench. “The finest quality.”

“Please wait a moment, sir. I’ll wrap them up for you.” Seeing such a generous customer, the shopkeeper’s eyes crinkled with delight.

Soon, the clothes were wrapped up. The shopkeeper came over with a large bundle. “Sir, that will be one hundred and thirty taels of silver. Would you like to inspect them?”

“No need. Die Shang, pay the bill!” Yun Yufeng grabbed the bundle and walked out of the store, heading down the long street. After ten meters or so, Die Shang caught up with him, holding up a gold coin as if to claim credit—her eyes curved into crescent moons as she smiled and said, “Young master, you’re too casual. You didn’t even bargain, but with just a few words I saved you ten taels of silver.” The universal currency system valued one gold tael as ten gold coins, or one hundred taels of silver.

Yun Yufeng laughed, “That’s your achievement. Keep it for yourself.”

“No, we agreed on the price. I won’t break the rules. I don’t want this money. I live by my own labor, not by charity.” Die Shang glared at him. After spending most of the day together, she understood Yun Yufeng’s rather easygoing nature.

“Alright, my esteemed Die Shang, hold onto it for now. You’ll need it to pay later.”

Shang puffed her cheeks in mock annoyance.

Die Shang continued to introduce the sights along the street, sharing popular anecdotes as they walked. The bundle had long since been stashed away by Yun Yufeng in his spatial pouch when no one was looking.

The sound of metal striking echoed nearby. Yun Yufeng turned and asked, “Where’s the best weapon shop?”

Die Shang pursed her lips, “Not far ahead. It’s expensive, but favored by mercenaries—they’d rather bleed a little to buy their weapons there.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

“Young master, look—that corner up ahead, the sign says ‘Celestial Arms Pavilion.’ They say its branches are spread across the entire continent.”

Upon entering, he saw a wall behind the counter hung with all sorts of weapons—even rare ones like hooks. Each weapon was displayed, its blade reflecting a cold white gleam, exuding a chilling, sharp aura that made one shiver instinctively.

The shop was spacious, the vaulted ceiling set with many magical lamps emitting a gentle white glow. At each counter corner stood a stern-faced warrior, their bodies radiating battle energy—each at least third-tier in cultivation.

Yun Yufeng walked to the sword display. None of the swords had sheaths; cold light flashed everywhere, dazzling him. They all looked impressive, but he wondered about their quality.

After a while, Yun Yufeng pondered whether to buy a longsword or a heavy sword. He already owned Qiushui, a longsword, so a heavy sword would be good for training his wrist strength. Until he mastered the heavy sword, he’d need a longsword for combat as well.

Having made up his mind, he beckoned a clerk and pointed to a longsword priced at five hundred taels of silver. “I’ll take this one. Do you have any better heavy swords?”

“Sir, the higher-quality weapons are upstairs. Entry to the second floor costs five hundred taels of silver, unless you’re a VIP, in which case it’s free.”

Die Shang winked at Yun Yufeng, indicating how expensive it was.

Yun Yufeng signaled, and Die Shang quickly handed over a five hundred tael bank note. The two collected a crystal card from the manager at the entrance and entered the second floor.

The layout upstairs was similar to the first, but the decorations were far more refined. The counters were made of precious rosewood, filling the space with a fragrant aroma. The ceiling was adorned with many pearls, each shining under the magical lamps.

All the weapons were placed on special wooden racks, unlike downstairs where they hung on the walls. Not all the weapons gleamed with silver light; some were dull, others dark blue or black, and some had blades so polished they could reflect a person’s image.

Here, the weapons didn’t rely on flashy looks to attract customers; quality mattered most. The clientele were all devoted martial artists.

Yun Yufeng strolled to the sword rack. There were twenty or thirty swords—long, short, and heavy—priced from a hundred gold coins to as much as ten thousand, the most expensive being a longsword at the very top. Its blade was smooth and seemed to emit a chilling gleam, as if light flowed across its surface—a sword sharp enough to split a hair.

Yun Yufeng was absorbed in examining the swords when he was suddenly shoved aside. A lavishly dressed youth took his place, flanked by two burly guards.

Yun Yufeng sized up the youth and shook his head.

Two large pearls rotated in the youth’s left palm; his right thumb bore an expensive ring, and a blood-red jade pendant hung at his waist. He waved a folding fan arrogantly, nostrils flared, looking down on everyone—a typical pampered scion.

“What are you staring at? Move aside, don’t spoil my mood,” the youth sneered. “Still staring? Admire my looks, do you?”

Yun Yufeng scoffed at the overbearing youth, refusing to argue. He walked to the shopkeeper and pointed to a black heavy sword. “Shopkeeper, I want that heavy sword. Bring it over.”

Die Shang, meanwhile, spoke up indignantly, “Young master, that guy’s so vile. Why don’t you teach him a lesson?”

Yun Yufeng shook his head, “When traveling, it’s better to avoid trouble. Besides, if a dog bites you, is there any need to bite it back?”

The crowd burst into laughter; Die Shang couldn’t help but giggle, covering her mouth.

The youth didn’t seem to hear, but noticing everyone’s amused glances, he suspected Yun Yufeng had insulted him. Without proof, he couldn’t react.

With a snap, he closed his fan and rapped the counter, “Manager, manager, where’s the manager? Hurry up! I want to buy a sword. Bring me the best one—if it’s good, there’ll be a reward.” His tone was brash and commanding.

The shopkeeper approached the rack, picked up the black heavy sword, and prepared to hand it to Yun Yufeng.

“Wait! I like that sword. I’ll take it.” The youth, eager to cause trouble for Yun Yufeng, seized the opportunity.

Yun Yufeng’s expression darkened. This arrogant fool was utterly shameless. “I’ve already bought the sword. If you want it, offer double the price—I might sell it. Why put on airs for anyone here?”

The scene fell silent. Two spirited youths locked eyes, tension thick, but neither moved. This was the Celestial Arms Pavilion, the heart of Muzha Camp, its centuries-old prestige not to be challenged.

The youth’s eyes reddened, his face twisted in rage. He roared, “Damn brat! You dare snatch my sword? I’ll teach you a lesson—you’ll learn your place. If you’re a man, meet me in the arena for a duel. No victory, only life or death!”

Yun Yufeng’s spiritual power was formidable. He swept the youth and guards with his mind, instantly discerning their strength. The youth’s spiritual power was much stronger than his guards’—likely a Mage Spirit, though unfamiliar with spirits, Yun Yufeng couldn’t judge the exact level. The two guards were both early fourth-tier Martial Spirits.

When Yun Yufeng probed them, the youth and guards clearly felt a chill—a sign of Yun Yufeng’s raw use of spiritual power. Without a teacher, he had learned to use it during a month spent in the Blackwind Mountains, honing it to judge magical beasts. Thus, it couldn’t be concealed, and brought a mental pressure to the targets. If fully developed, Yun Yufeng’s spiritual power could rival an eighth-tier Emperor.

Now confident in their strength, Yun Yufeng replied calmly, “As you wish. The arena decides life and death. Shopkeeper, keep the sword for me—I’ll be back to claim it.”

With that, the youth’s face twisted in a mocking sneer, looking at Yun Yufeng as if he were a dead man. “You’d better worry about keeping your life—the sword will be of no use to you.”