As Wu Hao waited, more heads began to poke over the sides of the upper floors. It was as if the entirety of the restaurant had been built with a central pillar in the middle, which had then been removed somehow. This left it with each floor having the shape of a ring, allowing more and more spectators to look over the stairs down at him.
A few still seemed shocked at his bad language - he caught a few scandalized expressions here and there. Others seemed interested in how he'd perform, though.
Bi Shifeng landed, his robes catching the force of his landing so that the dragons embroidered on his robe danced in the wind before settling down again. He held a sword in one hand, the other clenced tight.
His face was drawn tight with anger.
"What did you just call me?" he hissed.
"Motherfucker," Wu Hao said. "I thought qi improved hearing."
Bi Shifeng reddened. "My senior brothers always said that vulgarity of the speech reveals the vulgarity of the mind. I see now that that's true."
"One moment, please!"
A presence smashed down into the paving stones of the arena, so hard that it caused the tiles to ripple underneath Wu Hao's feet in a clacking storm of stone tapping against stone. As the dust cleared it revealed an immensely burly man, at least twice as tall as Wu Hao, his arms the size of tree trunks. On his fingers a set of rings shone, one per finger. He must have fallen from twice the height that Wu Hao had fallen from and had made no attempt to stop his rapid descent, but he didn't show any sign that it had hurt.
A first-grade martial artist. One of the semifinalists for the first-grade tournament. His qi was like that of An Xifan but much, much moreso. Concentrated into a tight core that contained more qi than Wu Hao could have mustered in a year, he looked as if he needed none of it to beat an entire building into dust.
He righted himself, cupped his hands, and spoke in a loud voice.
"I am Yin Buyong of the Kongtong Sect," he announced. "I have been asked to referee this duel. I apologize for the disturbance."
His eyes moved from Wu Hao to Bi Shifeng and then back again. Both of them had turned to stare at him. The muscles on his arms flexed slightly.
"You both agree?" Yin Buyong said.
"I agree," Bi Shifeng said. He bowed. "Thank you, senior!"
"I agree," Wu Hao said curtly. "We fight until one of us falls."
Yin Buyong frowned. "I would prefer three strikes, each drawing blood. I realize that you both are used to harsher conditions, but the Immortal's Repose has no medics on staff."
"Fine," Wu Hao said. He twirled his saber. "Let's get this started. I'm hungry."
"Again you give me no face," Bi Shifeng growled. "Is it a joking matter to you, giving a sect such as mine no respect?"
Wu Hao blinked. "I respect your sect," he said. He was pretty sure he did, anyway. "Prove me to that you're worthy of the same."
Bi Shifeng's teeth ground together, but he actually obeyed the command Wu Hao had given by him shutting up. Instead, he drew his sword from his hip, turning it into an artful twirl. He raised it, sideways so that he looked over the edge at Wu Hao, and his other hand moved in front of him, forming a fist. He sunk lower down on his knees, bouncing slightly.
Qi roared to life throughout Bi Shifeng's core. It wasn't to the point of forming a fully-fledged dragon yet, but there was a scale-like pattern, interlocking and interweaving, that decorated his qi. Wu Hao's nose caught a taste of something, and though he didn't know what it made him think of stern, regal authority.
Wu Hao just rolled his shoulders. As if to announce its presence, he allowed his qi to bubble up to his skin, the tiger's roar sounding vicious in his ears. It sounded as if it'd met an opponent that it would gladly tear to shreds. Together, Wu Hao and the tiger within prepared themselves.
Lines began to emerge from nowhere, shaping avenues of attack that grouped together until they formed natural arrays. Wu Hao grinned.
"Begin!" Yin Buyong commanded.
In the next moment, Wu Hao pushed his qi into the Dragon's Gate Ascending art and forced himself forward. The world blurred around him but even as he touched down again he was gathering qi again, and between breaths he sketched out a line that showed potential and followed it high into the air.
He fell back down to earth, saber pointed straight at Bi Shifeng's heart. The other boy's head snapped up as he saw Wu Hao move and his eyes narrowed, his sword coming up in a block. His fist, meanwhile, dipped in a counterpoint. Qi formed a barrier around his sword.
When they met, sparks flew. Jolts of electricity coursed against the dragon scale, digging in but not managing to get a good grip on the sword. Instead they were repelled, sent turning into the air where they dissipated, screaming into nothing. Wu Hao's saber hummed against the scales but with qi meeting qi, it was a contest of properties Wu Hao didn't much understand.
"Is this all?" Bi Shifeng growled. He had managed to block Wu Hao's attack but his arm had trembled minutely when he did. Wu Hao had noticed, but Bi Shifeng was trying to taunt him into forgetting.
More electricity flooded through Wu Hao's veins as he found another line that stood at a right angle to the one he'd just drawn, allowing his body to sink down to the ground as he slashed out.
Bi Shifeng was forced to stumble back, a thin line scored just above one of his eyebrows. A single droplet of blood dripped down slowly from his forehead, sliding past his right eye.
"First blood to Wu Hao," Yin Buyong intoned. There was a vague murmur of speech from the watching audience, but Wu Hao couldn't spare the attention for that.
Using a movement technique that left his body swaying in a sinuous, serpentine motion, Bi Shifeng charged forward.
His sword cut down on where Wu Hao had just been - and missed him, because he'd shifted back like the tide in response to Bi Shifeng's approach. The line had pulled him backward, dodging instead of blocking. He wasn't made for a solid, unbending defense, anyway.
Wu Hao angled his saber upwards and saw the line of Bi Shifeng's sword rising up again, pumped full of qi to try and rip into him on the backstroke - a two-part technique. His instincts had worked faster than his conscious mind again.
When Bi Shifeng's sword had blurred through the air, Wu Hao launched himself on another line, speeding forward like an arrow. Bi Shifeng's fist was waiting for him but he slipped past it, assured of the fact that his timing had been perfect to the point where the other boy didn't have the time to push qi into it, and then his saber lanced out and tore another gash into Bi Shifeng's arm.
A long, spiraling cut that wasn't at all deep, but which had neatly cut through one of the dragons on Bi Shifeng's robe.
He'd been aiming to take the arm out entirely, though. This had been nothing but a lucky accident, but one he'd take.
"Second blood," Yin Buyong said. His voice sounded impressed and his qi was eager. "Wu Hao."
Grinning, Wu Hao pressed the attack. With each flash of steel and each ringing sound of electricity clashing against dragonscale, Bi Shifeng was pushed back further, little by little and step by step. A few times Wu Hao landed glancing hits but they bounced off scales that had grown on Bi Shifeng's face, and they drew no blood.
Then, finally, Bi Shifeng had to dodge another strike from Wu Hao that might have cut his face, and that movement caused the droplet beading atop his eyebrow to sink slowly into his right eye. Growling something incoherent - and probably vulgar - he blinked.
Wu Hao was on him in the next breath.
The saber reached out, cutting through Bi Shifeng's desperate, blind attempt to block. The line ended suddenly in a bright gleam of blue as Bi Shifeng's shield pendant activated, forming a roaring dragon's face. Hidden behind that protective wall, Bi Shifeng lost his balance and fell backwards.
The other boy stared down at his chest as if the pendant had betrayed him. Then his eyes flicked up to Wu Hao, whose hand was still extended in that single thrust, before Wu Hao drew back the saber, twirling it once, and returning to his default position.
"Third blood," Yin Buyong said, his voice resounding throughout the restaurant. "Victory in this duel goes to Wu Hao."
Bi Shifeng struggled to his feet, gritting his teeth.
"It's not over," he hissed.
Qi was gathering, cohering, bunching up into clumps. The scales that had scattered everywhere shimmered in a sudden light emanating from Bi Shifeng. Wu Hao prepared himself to dodge another Sky-tier strike, but then he realized that there was more qi gathering than most Sky-tier strikes. It didn't feel like a Heaven-tier strike, though. There was none of that concentrated intent behind it.
"Golden Dragon Art," Bi Shifeng roared. "Breath of the -"
Someone flickered into being around Bi Shifeng and, with a single fist, smashed him in the back of the head. The fighter who'd just taken a dozen blows from Wu Hao collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
The man had crimson scales which had crept up the fist that he'd used to hit Bi Shifeng with, and were even as Wu Hao watched creeping back down. It was a fascinating application of qi but, as if aware that he was watching carefully, the technique was receding faster than he could study it.
"Apologies, everyone," the handsome man said. "I am Cen Xun, also of the Kunlun Sect."
He cupped his hands, keeping his eyes mostly on Wu Hao but occasionally glancing up at the crowd. Yin Buyong's massive arms had folded over each other, and he was looking askance at this Cen Xun.
"My junior brother attempted a technique he is not yet ready for. It could have had dangerous effects on him, so I saw it necessary to stop the technique before it could be executed."
He glanced at Wu Hao. Oddly enough his gaze seemed almost approving. "And you are, of course, young hero Wu. It is an honor to meet you. I have heard a great deal, but the rumors do not do you justice. Junior brother Bi Shifeng has never been defeated within the sect's internal competitions, so it was difficult for him to take his loss as the learning opportunity it was."
Wu Hao stood there, saber dangling from his hand. It still fit his hand perfectly, but it felt awkward to hold it. He pushed it back into his spatial ring.
"I understand," Wu Hao said, fighting off that strange sense that had taken hold of him. "I hope he learns, now."
Cen Xun chuckled. "Don't worry, champion. We senior brothers will make sure of that, if his master doesn't."
He bowed his head. "Of course, if in the course of your travels you were to stop in at the Kunlun Sect, we would be honored by your presence."
Wu Hao hesitated.
"Just thank him," master Shu's voice echoed in his ears.
"Thanks," Wu Hao muttered.
Cen Xun smiled. "No, thank you. I await eagerly to see what kind of martial artist you'll become, champion."
He picked up Bi Shifeng by slinging him over his shoulder without even a hint of strain and then vanished without a trace. Wu Hao was left alone in the arena with Yin Buyong, who shifted on his feet.
"If that is all, I too will be returning," Yin Buyong said. "It was a pleasure, of course. We of the Kongtong extend the same invitation, should you and your master be nearby."
Wu Hao again said his thanks, already recognizing this was a rote interaction. He wondered if they'd actually allow him past the gate, were he to show up alone. At least the people from the Kongtong Sect had seemed polite enough.
Yin Buyong leapt up into the air and was gone. Wu Hao inspected the upper floors again - could he make that in a single leap? No, he didn't think so. Besides, trying and falling short of the railing he'd tried to grab would be embarrassing beyond belief.
So he ambled up the stairs. He heard more congratulations from everyone he passed, both on his duel and on having won the tournament. Some were already calling him the second Sword Sovereign, though it was apparently a matter of public debate what his eventual title as a Sovereign might be. The popular guess, as far as he was aware, was currently that he would become the Thunder Sovereign.
He had used lightning both against Su Biao and against everyone else, that much was true. Wu Hao didn't feel like that was quite right, though. The little he'd heard about Sovereigns was that their titles invoked something central to them, to their styles, and while he used lightning, it didn't define him. A title like Thunder Sovereign didn't seem like it would fit.
His seat was still empty, though, and better yet: the food had been served. Even as Wu Hao watched a few more platters of meat and fish and vegetables were carried in, all of them steaming hot, all of them exquisitely prepared. He didn't recognize most of it but picked up a few things from the chatter around him.
Du Linglong was already slobbering on a fatty piece of meat, even before Wu Hao let himself fall onto his cushion.
"Thish is sho good," she exclaimed, her mouth full. Wu Hao could only nod, though he also wondered if the Diancang Sect starved its members. How else to explain the ravenous way Du Linglong attacked her food? Then again, if she was to grow up...
An Xifan chuckled, catching Wu Hao's gaze. "Bejing duck," he explained. "A particular specialty of the martial artists there, I'm given to understand."
Wu Hao nodded as if he knew where in the hell Bejing even was. He grabbed himself a piece, as well, snatching it out of Du Linglong's grubby little hands.
She stared up at him, her eyes narrowing. A frenzied few seconds followed where she tried to grab as much as she could off the table, to the point where she nearly wound up nearly scratching him, but again he won. He was left with a full plate, whereas she was left pouting at the fact that she hadn't gotten as much of everything as she'd wanted.
A hush fell over the crowd, though, and it wasn't just their horseplay that had caused it.
Elegant pink robes, a handsome face, pink hair that faded to white at its edges - Hua Lixin had arrived. He passed through the crowd like a ghost, accepting the few congratulations he got, and sat himself next to Wu Hao without saying a word.
And as everyone turned to him he still said nothing, just surveying the table. His qi roared to life like a fire, as if he was preparing himself for a battle. Wu Hao braced himself in his seat. Was this going to be another duel? He'd beaten Shi Bifeng easily enough, but he didn't have the qi to take on every single comer.
But when Hua Lixin spoke, all he said was, "Could you pass me the rice, please? I'm starving."