RPAGF Chapter 546 Qin Mu Makes His Debut!
Chapter 546 Qin Mu Makes His Debut!
The training ground was very large, large enough to accommodate tens of thousands of spectators and hundreds of participating martial artists at the same time.
The arena was set up in the center, surrounded by layers of wooden stands. Outside the stands was a large open space enclosed by a wooden fence, where sects and independent cultivators from all over set up camp.
There was no courtyard, no courtyard wall, only tents one after another, gray-white, bluish-gray, dark brown, like clusters of mushrooms sprouting from the ground after the rain, crowded together haphazardly.
Clotheslines strung between the tents, with washed clothes and old cloths used for wiping swords hanging on them, swaying slowly in the autumn breeze.
The tents of the Qing Shi Sword Sect were easy to find; they were in the innermost corner of the open space, right next to a crooked locust tree. The tents were small, and the gray-white cloth had been washed until it was almost white.
There were several marks on the corners where they had been patched with thick needle and thread, the stitches were crooked and uneven, as if the person who did the stitching was not very good at needlework.
A few stones were piled up at the entrance, serving as stools, and a small iron pot sat next to it, with ashes from the firewood burned the night before still remaining at the bottom.
On a low stool against the wall sat a young girl, who was weaving a straw rope with her head down. She was weaving very slowly but very carefully, stopping to check every few sections, afraid of making a mistake in the pattern.
She looked no more than eighteen or nineteen years old, with a ponytail, wearing a short blue cloth shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing a section of slender forearm, the color of which was the light tan that comes from years of sun exposure.
Her eyebrows were curved, as if drawn with a fine brush, and her eyes were bright, like two pebbles just scooped from a stream, so clean that they could reflect the clouds in the sky.
Hearing footsteps, she immediately looked up and saw the boy walk in; her eyes instantly curved into two crescent moons.
She put down the straw rope in her hand, and like a bird released from its cage, she sprang up from the low stool and ran to the boy in two quick steps, her voice clear and crisp.
"Senior Brother! You're back!"
The boy grinned, revealing a row of neat teeth: "I'm back. I almost missed registering."
The girl's eyebrows furrowed slightly, like a flower ruffled by the wind: "What's wrong?"
The boy scratched his head and smiled somewhat embarrassedly: "I didn't bring enough money, but luckily this Brother Zhao helped me."
He stepped aside, making way for Qin Mu: "This is Zhao San, Brother Zhao."
The girl's gaze fell on Qin Mu's face, and she looked him over curiously for a moment. Then she bowed gracefully and said in a soft voice, "Hello, Brother Zhao. My name is Lin Xiaolu, and I am the junior sister of the eldest brother."
Qin Mu nodded slightly, a faint smile on his lips: "Hello, Miss Lin."
Lin Xiaolu smiled again, her eyes crinkling, looking very cute.
The teenagers behind her also gathered around, curiously sizing up Qin Mu like a flock of ducks peeking out from a pond.
The boy introduced them one by one: "This is the second junior brother, this is the third junior brother, this is the fourth junior brother... and that youngest one over there, he's only been here for half a year and hasn't formally become a disciple yet, his name is A Yuan."
Every boy whose name was called nodded to Qin Mu. Some smiled shyly, while others simply kept their heads down and continued sharpening their swords, as if they were shy or not very good at interacting with people.
Qin Mu didn't say much, but simply nodded to each of them in greeting.
An old man sat on a rock to the side of the tent.
He didn't get up, but simply turned his head slightly, his gaze falling on Qin Mu. Although there was no hostility in his eyes, there was a kind of caution that only someone who often travels the martial world would have.
While Qin Mu and Lin Xiaolu were talking, the old man stood up, walked to the boy's side, patted him on the shoulder, and said in a low voice:
"Who exactly is this person? Are you sure about his background? Why would someone be so kind as to pay for you for no reason?"
The boy lowered his voice, but his tone remained nonchalant: "Master, don't worry. With our meager resources, we have to be careful with even the cost of a hotel room. What could we possibly have that would tempt anyone to covet us?"
The old man paused for a moment.
He glanced at the faded tent, then at the iron pot with a chipped edge, and then at the old robe he was wearing, patched in several places.
After a moment of silence, he seemed to be persuaded, or perhaps too lazy to pursue the matter any further. He simply shook his head, sat back down on the stone, and picked up the chipped, rough porcelain teacup to drink his tea.
Lin Xiaolu was already sitting on a rock at the entrance of the tent, pulling out a blade of grass from somewhere and weaving a small grasshopper with her head down. She was weaving very slowly, stopping every few strokes to examine it, as if to confirm that the direction was right.
Qin Mu sat down on a rock next to her, about a fist's distance away.
"Brother Zhao, where are you from?" She didn't look up, her voice so soft it was as if she were talking to herself.
"Jiangnan".
"Jiangnan?" She looked up, a hint of serious curiosity in her eyes. "Is it really like the books say, with rivers everywhere? And that you have to take a boat to go anywhere?"
Qin Mu looked at her eyes, which were illuminated by the autumn sun, and smiled: "There are quite a lot."
Lin Xiaolu nodded, then lowered her head again and wrapped the grass stem around once more, weaving it into the shape of a grasshopper's wing.
She was silent for a moment, her voice becoming even softer than before.
"I would like to visit Jiangnan in the future."
Qin Mu turned his head to look at her, but did not reply immediately.
"You can go anytime you want."
Lin Xiaolu looked up at him, then lowered her head again.
"But it will cost a lot of money, and the roads are not safe."
She paused, having almost finished weaving the grasshopper in her hand.
"I'll think about it again when I've saved up more money and am stronger."
Qin Mu smiled and said, "I'll take you there."
Upon hearing this, the girl looked up, her eyes shining, and said, "Really?"
But then her eyes dimmed again: "But my master will definitely not agree..."
Lin Xiaolu placed the woven grasshopper on the stone and picked up a new grass stem from the ground.
She had only spoken halfway when a burst of rapid drumming suddenly rang out from the training ground.
Lin Xiaolu's hand suddenly stopped. She stuffed the grass stem into her sleeve and sprang up from the stone.
"The eldest brother is about to enter the arena!"
Before she could finish speaking, she had already run a few steps away.
The other junior brothers also poked their heads out of the tent and ran out one after another after her.
Qin Mu stood up and walked slowly to the fence, leaning against a wooden stake.
Lin Qingshi was already standing on the arena.
His opponent was a tall man dressed in ochre-colored close-fitting clothes, a full half a head taller than Lin Qingshi, and his weapon was a large, ghost-headed sword.
The two stood at opposite ends of the arena, more than ten feet apart.
The drumbeats continued three more times, then stopped.
The man in ochre moved, slashing upwards with his broadsword from his waist, the blade slicing through the air with a muffled hiss.
Lin Qingshi did not take the blow head-on. Instead, he shifted his body to the left, and the iron sword emerged from the gap that had been created.
The man had already changed direction with his knife, the back of the blade sweeping upwards to block the iron sword's path.
Lin Qingshi was forced to take a half step back, his heel landing on the edge of the ring.
He gritted his teeth and parried with his sword, causing both of them to sway slightly before retreating.
Qin Mu stood by the fence, watching the two figures on the arena.
Lin Qingshi's swordsmanship is actually not bad, he just lacks real combat experience.
The man in the ochre robe, however, wielded a shrewdness honed through real combat with every strike.
The two exchanged seven more moves.
On the seventh move, the man's blade grazed Lin Qingshi's shoulder, tearing off a small piece of cloth.
A shallow bloodstain was left on Lin Qingshi's shoulder.
The members of the Qing Shi Sword Sect below the stage all gasped in surprise.
Lin Xiaolu clenched her fists tightly, and her lips were pressed into a thin line.
In the eighteenth move, Lin Qingshi suddenly changed his move.
He lowered his body and slid past the man's right side at an angle almost touching the ground.
The iron sword precisely sliced into the inside of his right arm where he was holding the knife, the blade grazing the skin of his wrist an inch away.
The man's hand suddenly trembled, causing his knife to veer off course and crash into the ironwood arena, creating a crack about an inch deep.
Lin Qingshi's sword tip stopped three inches from his throat, without pushing it any further.
"Thank you for your concession."
There was a moment of silence in the audience, then Lin Xiaolu's voice exploded.
"The eldest brother won!"
She jumped up, her ponytail swinging in an arc through the air.
Several of her fellow students cheered beside her, their voices blending together with an unadorned, pure joy.
Lin Qingshi stepped down from the arena, the bloodstain on his shoulder already wiped away with his sleeve.
He stopped in front of Qin Mu, his face showing an undisguised excitement.
"Brother Zhao, did you see it?"
Qin Mu glanced at him, then at the bloodstain, and nodded.
"I saw it. That sword strike was very precise."
Lin Qingshi paused for a moment, then grinned.
He patted Qin Mu on the shoulder, as if he were talking to an old friend.
"Let's have dinner together tonight! It's on me!"
After he finished speaking, he turned around and walked towards his fellow disciples, his steps much lighter than before.
Lin Xiaolu was still standing by the fence.
She turned her head and met Qin Mu's gaze, then smiled again.
After the fifth match, a new group of opponents took over the stage.
Qin Mu's number appeared on the match-up list for the sixth game.
"Next match—Qingfeng Sword Sect's Zhao San versus—Iron Palm Sect's Lei Heng!"
A murmur of discussion immediately arose from the audience.
"Lei Heng? That Lei Heng from the Iron Palm Sect?"
"I heard that he can shatter bluestone with one palm. Last year, he won seven matches in a row at the Xiliang Martial Arts Tournament, but he had to withdraw from the competition because he was exhausted."
"Who is this Zhao San? The Qingfeng Sword Sect? Never heard of him."
"Another one coming to die."
Lin Qingshi had just returned to the fence when he heard that name, and the smile on his face immediately froze.
He suddenly turned his head and looked at Qin Mu.
"Brother Zhao...is your opponent Lei Heng?"
Lin Xiaolu stood beside him, looking at Qin Mu with a worried expression.
Her fingers gripped the hem of her dress, her voice trembling:
"Brother Zhao... I've heard of Lei Heng. Last year at the Xiliang Martial Arts Tournament, he sent someone flying three zhang away with a single palm strike. When the opponent was carried off the stage, he had four broken ribs."
She paused, then spoke even softer.
"You...you be careful."
Qin Mu did not turn around, but straightened up, straightened his robes, and strode towards the arena.