Chapter Eleven: Four Gates and Two Halls

"This..."
"Chen Fan won?!"
It wasn’t until the referee declared, "Victory goes to Chen Fan," that many of the onlookers seemed to awaken from a dream.
Naturally, the most disappointed were Xiao Chunkong and his companions.
They looked as if they’d lost their dearest kin, each face darker than the last.
"It's over, it's over! So much silver on the line, and we lost just like that?!"
With the official endorsement of the Baiyun Dojo, there was no way they could renege on their bets.
Even Yun Wei couldn’t help but sigh at the sight: "It seems I have no chance at claiming Master Uncle’s treasured artifact!"
She had almost glimpsed the dawn of victory, only to see it vanish in the blink of an eye. Her heart was a tangle of emotions. Still, gifting a few resources to a genius like Chen Fan could be regarded as a token of introduction—and that she could accept.
Her status and position far surpassed Xiao Chunkong and the others; she had little cause to mind the loss of money or resources.
Li Linliu burst out laughing again, more delighted by Chen Fan’s victory than he would have been by his own.
He knew better than anyone the strength of Chen Fan’s body.
Chen Fan cupped his fist and stepped down from the stage, not sparing Xiao Chunkong and his group a single glance.
His physique was formidable.
Even with Mu Lei’s second-level martial prowess and a nearly perfected secret technique, he couldn’t inflict serious injury on Chen Fan.
Of course, Chen Fan wasn’t entirely unscathed—blood stained his lips, and he’d sustained some injuries—but nothing that threatened his foundation or would prevent him from competing further.
Lin Shiyu and the others came forward to offer their congratulations.
It was a long moment before Xiao Chunkong, face ashen, finally walked over to Chen Fan. "Junior Brother Chen, we lost this duel. However, as for the resources you mentioned, we’re a bit short. Would you accept silver or other items to make up the difference?"
Though they were prodigies, they weren’t the direct disciples of the dojo master. The resources they could access were limited. Having wagered so boldly and lost, it was only natural they couldn’t pay up at once.
Even so, with Li Linliu present, they dared not show Chen Fan the slightest disrespect.
Chen Fan nodded slightly. "That will do."
Winning was a pleasure.
Moreover, if Mu Lei hadn’t challenged him, he would have sought out someone else.
With three skills on the verge of breakthrough, he’d soon need new opponents to advance further.
His thoughts shifted as he looked at Xiao Chunkong, whose face was flushed with embarrassment. "May I ask, Senior Brother Xiao, how old are you now, and what is your cultivation level?"
Xiao Chunkong froze, then his face turned a shade redder. "What... do you mean?"
Chen Fan had asked these questions twice before, and now, with a third inquiry, Xiao Chunkong could make a fair guess.
Those around, including Lin Shiyu, all understood as well.
Lin Shiyu hurried forward to grab Chen Fan’s arm. "Junior Brother, leave it be! Don’t be reckless!"
He felt helpless—this junior brother was just too aggressive.
At that moment, Yun Wei and Li Linliu stepped over, puzzled. "What’s the matter? Why is it a problem for Chen Fan to ask two simple questions?"
Xiao Chunkong’s face was crimson, but he said nothing.
Lin Shiyu stepped in to explain.
Li Linliu then laughed again, looking toward Xiao Chunkong. "Go on, tell us—how old are you, what’s your cultivation? See if Chen Fan dares to challenge you..."
Xiao Chunkong’s mouth twitched, but he answered honestly: "I am twenty-three years old and have been at the third level of martial arts for three and a half years."
At twenty-three, with over three years at the third level, he was likely approaching the tempering of the five viscera and six bowels—almost perfecting his foundation. As a core disciple of Baiyun Dojo, his strength was nothing to scoff at!
This was nothing like the rapid advancement seen among the Black Tiger Gang in Feiling County.
Their so-called third level was gained through shortcuts—weak in power, and with lifelong prospects for further progress all but cut off. At best, they were pseudo-martial artists.

Yun Wei nodded slightly. At twenty-three, on the cusp of breaking through to the fourth level, Xiao Chunkong’s progress was the standard for a core disciple—average, neither exaggerated nor slow.
She smiled, turning to Chen Fan. "Well then, Junior Brother, do you dare to challenge this Senior Xiao?"
Chen Fan narrowed his eyes.
With each level of martial arts, improvements came at a greater cost in time and effort.
Xiao Chunkong was not just any third-level martial artist—he was nearly perfect at that level, had trained for years, and surely possessed powerful true techniques.
Confident as he was, Chen Fan would not claim he could defeat such a man while still at the Internal Breath stage.
And yet, he was intrigued—he longed to test himself against such a formidable opponent.
Seeing Chen Fan’s silence, the others assumed he would not issue a challenge and thought no more of it.
Xiao Chunkong frowned, torn. He both hoped for another wager with Chen Fan and dreaded the humiliation of another defeat.
Just then—
"Three months..."
Everyone turned in surprise to Chen Fan.
He took a deep breath, anticipation lighting his face. "If Senior Brother Xiao is willing, let us meet in three months for a match. The wager: fifty Energy Pills."
He had lowered the stakes considerably, for even after three months, he doubted he could defeat Xiao Chunkong.
But in that time, he could master his remaining five first-class manuals and perhaps push his energy and blood to the limit—ready to begin training in true techniques.
Though his progress had slowed, if he reached the limit and began true cultivation, his power would leap forward.
With his unique aptitude, his advancement in true techniques would be swift, and he would gain new insights through battle.
Chen Fan’s intent was simple: he did not demand victory; he merely sought the experience.
The moment he issued the three-month challenge, the crowd erupted in astonishment.
Lin Shiyu could only smile bitterly, at a loss for words.
Yun Wei looked equally bewildered; she had meant her suggestion as a joke, never expecting him to take it seriously.
It was common for young geniuses to challenge stronger opponents, but to do so with so little time to close such a gap—three months—was truly remarkable.
If Xiao Chunkong had challenged Chen Fan as a third-level martial artist, he would be scorned as shameless.
But since Chen Fan had initiated, it was seen as audacious.
Li Linliu, on the other hand, was thrilled and full of praise:
"Interesting! Chen Fan, I knew I wasn’t wrong about you. So what if your cultivation is lower? If you lose the courage to challenge, that’s the true defeat."
With his own prodigious talent, he believed nothing was impossible.
He turned to Xiao Chunkong. "Well? Chen Fan has issued the challenge—do you accept?"
For an Internal Breath martial artist to challenge a nearly perfected third-level martial disciple—unthinkable!
Xiao Chunkong’s face contorted. After a long pause, he gritted his teeth. "The wager is too small!"
At these words, those around were astounded, expressions of disdain all around.
"Have you no shame?!"
"Despicable!"
Behind Xiao Chunkong, Mu Lei, Xiao Yurong, and the others looked awkward, but they knew he was only trying to recoup their losses.
They had dared to pressure the dojo master’s own disciple, thick-skinned as they were.
Chen Fan sneered and waved his hand. "If you’re unwilling, then forget it."

He was no fool; his odds of winning were slim.
Fifty Energy Pills would be a meaningful wager—a reason to fight at his best. Any more, and the risk would be too great.
Though he had no use for the pills, it would be easy to sell them if he wished.
This was just a friendly match—he could fight anyone. Why take on unnecessary risk?
At these words, Xiao Chunkong was momentarily stunned.
In his eyes, Chen Fan’s repeated readiness to accept challenges and even initiate them marked him as a brash young genius, unlikely to care about raising the stakes. He expected negotiation. But Chen Fan simply refused.
He, who had nearly cast aside his dignity for the wager, now found Chen Fan unwilling to play along.
Xiao Chunkong hurriedly stepped forward, gritting his teeth. "Fifty, then! Fifty Energy Pills!"
Though it was a fraction of what he had just lost, it was still a substantial sum—worth over a hundred taels of silver.
He had lost heavily; anything to make up for it was welcome.
He was, indeed, a man of remarkable nerve.
But Chen Fan shook his head. "Haven’t you heard that saying? Once you leave this village, you won’t find this shop again. Sorry, I won’t agree."
With that, he ignored Xiao Chunkong and the others, leaving with Li Linliu and Yun Wei.
In the main Baiyun Dojo, there would always be opportunities to fight others. At worst, Chen Fan could challenge someone else—he didn’t need to fixate on Xiao Chunkong.
The group’s faces darkened further, but with Li Linliu and Yun Wei at Chen Fan’s side, they dared not act out and could only slink away in defeat...
...
Upon returning, Chen Fan immediately began practicing the techniques he had gained insight into, efficiency enhanced, and then immersed himself in a bath with renewed excitement.
"My efficiency is increasing even faster than I expected. In just a month or two, I’ll have mastered all three of these first-class techniques!"
His victory over Mu Lei in this wager had won him enough resources for four or five months of unrestrained training.
Moreover, Senior Sister Yun Wei had promised him a gift as well—an additional wager of sorts.
With the Energy Pills he had yet to use and his monthly quota, he now had enough resources for a year of rapid cultivation.
"If I were to convert all this to silver, I’d never have earned so much in my entire life at the accounting office..."
Chen Fan shook his head, marveling at the unpredictability of life.
In the days to come,
Having already gained insight into three techniques through battle, he no longer sought out matches with others.
Instead, he wandered the city each day, searching for opportunities for enlightenment.
The harvest was meager, but his familiarity with Yan Capital grew ever deeper.
The city was vast, and within it, Baiyun Dojo was not the only major force. There were five other dojos and sects that stood as its peers—some even larger.
These martial halls and sects were collectively known as the Four Gates and Two Halls, the most powerful forces in Yan Capital.
They were: Clear Serenity Gate, Thunderclap Gate, Distant Heart Gate, Auspicious Cloud Gate; and two halls—Plum Moon Hall and Baiyun Dojo.
Beyond these, the city was filled with countless minor sects and schools, as numerous as the stars.
Most of the great powers were either connected to the imperial offices of Great Qian or controlled by noble families.
Even Baiyun Dojo, though not officially tied to the city’s government, was intimately allied with the city’s garrison.
Yan Capital was guarded by the Green Python Army—a small but invincible force. With the dojo’s connection to the army, no one dared provoke them.
The Four Gates and Two Halls all shared one thing in common: each was overseen by a master-level expert—some even by more than one.