Chapter Ninety-Four: National Honor

After the Japanese led by Mizukawa Inaka left, the onlookers did not descend the mountain. They knew there would be another contest the next day, and the road back up was too long; they would rather spend the night on the mountain.

The common folk were unwilling to leave, so Yuan Tingyu ordered the kitchen to prepare thin porridge to sate their hunger.

At dinner, Yuan Tingyu personally hosted Zhou Yi, Baozi, and Xuhua. The table was filled with vegetarian dishes, along with Maoshan’s homemade rice wine.

“What does Master Zhou think of tomorrow’s match?” Yuan Tingyu asked first, for the ownership of the Sun-Moon Cosmos Saber hung in the balance, and this was no longer a matter to dismiss lightly.

“If Xuhua and I are not unlucky, we should be able to win two rounds. For the remaining round, does Master Yuan have anyone in mind?” Zhou Yi lifted the rice wine and took a sip.

He was used to the strong white liquor brewed at the village distillery, and found the rice wine somewhat hard to get used to.

Yuan Tingyu shook his head. “Maoshan has only three disciples at Azure Qi cultivation. My fourth disciple, Zhong Muyu, is only at the peak of Yellow Qi. There is no better choice. As for the elders... alas...”

With that, Yuan Tingyu sighed again. If they had not agreed beforehand to let the younger generation compete, how could Maoshan be in such a tight bind now?

“Let us eat first. If we truly must lose, then we cannot let that Japanese have an easy time of it. Once he steps onto my arena, he need not come down again.” Yuan Tingyu raised his rice wine and drank.

Zhou Yi knew worrying was useless; he could only let things take their course. He made up his mind that if Mizukawa Inaka won tomorrow and took the Sun-Moon Cosmos Saber, he would seize it by force. If Maoshan won, he would simply ask Yuan Tingyu to lend it to him, and return it to Maoshan afterward.

At dinner, each of them was lost in his own thoughts, and the meal was finished in haste. Zhou Yi and Baozi then returned to their rooms to rest. Zhou Yi was honestly a little envious of Baozi’s miraculous self-healing ability, but when he recalled the sight of Baozi rescuing his mother from the flames, his flesh scorched through and through, all envy in his heart turned to gratitude.

“Brother Yi, what are you thinking about?” Baozi turned and asked.

“I’m thinking about tomorrow’s contest,” Zhou Yi said with a faint smile.

Baozi curled his lip, feeling somewhat guilty. “Today’s mess is all my fault. If I had killed that Kameda sooner, we wouldn’t have lost a round.”

Zhou Yi patted Baozi on the shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You did your best. If anything were to happen to you, how would I explain it to Uncle when I go back?”

“How come that Xuhua came too?”

Zhou Yi then told Baozi everything: how, after their clash at the foot of the mountain, Xuhua had agreed to help Maoshan drive off the foreign enemy first. After hearing it, Baozi merely snorted.

“That bald donkey did the right thing this time, but I still cannot stand the sight of him.”

They said no more. Both sat cross-legged and began to heal.

The next morning, Zhou Yi woke from his meditative state with about half his spiritual power restored, enough to fight.

After washing up, he sensed two powerful auras racing up the mountain from below. He stepped out of the room and found Yuan Tingyu already waiting outside.

Zhou Yi cupped his hands toward Yuan Tingyu and said gravely, “Are these two visitors your friends, Master Yuan?”

Yuan Tingyu shook his head. “They should be Japanese men invited by Mizukawa Inaka.”

After hearing this, Zhou Yi’s brow furrowed once more. These arrivals were very strong; this was an intuition shared by masters. If they really were invited by Mizukawa Inaka, then today’s match would be far from promising.

Yuan Tingyu did not have time to think further and ordered the young attendants to gather everyone at the arena.

As Yuan Tingyu turned to leave, Zhou Yi rose into the air and looked down the mountain. Once he made out the newcomers, his brow could not help but knit tighter, for one of them was Mizukawa Yuji.

The last time they had met was in the capital more than a month ago. Back then Zhou Yi had not yet undergone his tribulation. He could only sense that Mizukawa Yuji possessed spiritual power, but could not tell what level of cultivation he had attained. Now, however, it was clear that Mizukawa Yuji was a master who had already passed through tribulation.

The Japanese man behind him was slightly slower than Mizukawa Yuji, and the one who came into view was not Suzuki Yuichi.

“More than a month apart, I never expected to meet you, little friend, here on Maoshan. Yuji is most fortunate.” Upon seeing Zhou Yi, Mizukawa Yuji cupped his hands.

Zhou Yi narrowed his eyes slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting faintly. “Master Mizukawa, your Chinese is truly hard to commend. Perhaps you should simply speak properly.”

As he spoke, his eyes were full of contempt. Though he had long suspected that Mizukawa Inaka and Mizukawa Yuji were related by blood, he had not expected Mizukawa Yuji to come in person today.

Mizukawa Yuji did not mind. Smiling, he said, “Then I have made a fool of myself before you.”

With that, Mizukawa Yuji turned and walked onto the arena.

His manner of walking was different from Baozi’s. Baozi’s was merely for show. Mizukawa Yuji took his first step already suspended in the air, each step higher than the last, as though the air itself were a staircase. He ascended at an unhurried pace, displaying to full effect the depth of his cultivation.

When he reached the platform and stood firm, he turned back with a smile and said to Zhou Yi, “Little friend Zhou Yi, you and I are old acquaintances now. I have long admired your Daoist arts. Might the first round be fought between us?”

His tone was confident, yet his words were filled with respect for Zhou Yi.

After hearing him out, Zhou Yi’s heart gave a jolt. Mizukawa Yuji had already shown his extraordinary intelligence in the Northeast. His appearance here could hardly be a coincidence. Had he come all this way merely for a Sun-Moon Cosmos Saber? That did not add up. What was his true purpose?

Zhou Yi could not make sense of it. Looking up at Mizukawa Yuji on the platform, at that confident smile and the right hand extended before him, he thought: whatever scheme you have, let us fight first and speak later.

Without further delay, Zhou Yi rose into the air. His figure lifted some five meters before he stepped, one step at a time, onto the arena. Mizukawa Yuji had ascended from below, whereas Zhou Yi descended from above.

There was purpose in Zhou Yi’s movement as well. Walking down onto the arena from above was more difficult, requiring far greater control over spiritual power. This was not an act of showmanship. It was a deliberate attempt to place pressure on Mizukawa Yuji. Today’s opening round was the key to the entire contest. Zhou Yi could only win; he could not lose.

When Mizukawa Yuji saw this display, he could not help but applaud. “Your control over inner energy is indeed superior, little friend Zhou Yi. I am impressed.”

It turned out the Japanese called spiritual power inner energy. In truth, that made sense. Since Daoist arts had made their way into Japan, the Japanese had recklessly altered the methods of cultivation, even changing the color of spiritual power itself; naturally, they could no longer call it spiritual power.

Though it was plagiarism, there were too many things within it that were worth preserving.

“Master Mizukawa need not be so courteous. Please.” Zhou Yi smiled faintly and drew Lihuo from his waist.

At present, he could not afford to be distracted. The wounds from yesterday had not yet healed, and now he faced an opponent like Mizukawa Yuji. He had to cast aside all stray thoughts and deal with him with care.

By then, Mizukawa Inaka had already arrived at the arena with his group of Japanese. With all present and accounted for, the crowd took their seats.

Everyone was eagerly awaiting the battle between these two tribulation-passing masters. Such masters were rare to see, and when they fought one another, it was usually only to the point.

But this round was different. This was no longer merely a contest of Maoshan Daoist arts against Mizukawa Inaka’s ferocity. This match was the pinnacle clash between Chinese Daoist arts and Japanese ninjutsu. The wager no longer mattered. What mattered was the honor of the nation.

Battle...

Today I argued with my family. I am tired. I want to rest, I want to sleep. But I do not dare, and I cannot. I do not want to let you down. Tired as I am, after finishing a chapter and looking at what I have written, I still feel a great sense of accomplishment. The process is painful; since I cannot resist pain, then I must learn to enjoy it.