Whoever loses has to grant the winner a favor. This kind of bet is rare in the martial world—if you’re not trustworthy, it’s meaningless, but if you are, the stakes are sky-high. Aunt Crystal and Joan, sitting in the Ladies' Circle (the group of wives and female supporters who add commentary and comedic flavor), had just raised their hands and opened their mouths to say, “Think twice—” but before the words could leave their throats, the two contestants had already slapped palms and sworn their oath.
Smack! With that palm strike, a vow was sealed—harder than stone, tougher than steel. The ladies’ “Think twice” never made it out.
[Forget it, that old man’s always like this. You can’t stop him. But it’s fine, the opponent’s just a little girl—my old man would never lose!]
That’s Aunt Crystal’s take. She’d missed the earlier sparring, but even if she’d seen it, she still wouldn’t believe her man could lose. The little girl’s aura was impressive—like she’d trained in some legendary martial art. But her power was so obvious, it was easy to sense. On closer look, her level was about the same as Aunt Crystal’s. With her old man’s strength, even three of those girls together wouldn’t stand a chance.
So, Aunt Crystal flashed Maggie Monroe a confident smile, instantly figuring out the easiest way to win: a contest of Internal Energy (cultivation energy). Simple as can be—just pit inner strength, and victory is effortless!
Meanwhile—
[Forget it, that guy’s always like this. You can’t stop him. But it’s fine—maybe not as good in real combat, but if it’s just a contest of whatever, winning is a breeze!]
That’s Maggie Monroe’s take. Bobby Tong’s aura was so smooth and natural—totally different from the wild, flashy Supreme Skill. He was plain and unassuming, making it hard to judge his true strength. But whatever, Bobby’s bet was basically a sheep walking into a tiger’s den.
So, Wu Zhengfeng shot Aunt Crystal a knowing smile, landing on the simplest tactic: arm wrestling. They’d already agreed—no Internal Energy (cultivation energy) allowed, just pure arm strength. He’d crush her!
So, just like a scene from a high-stakes soap opera, Maggie Monroe and Aunt Crystal played out a duel of "the sword’s not in your hand, it’s in your heart; the knife’s not in the sheath, it’s in your smile." Meanwhile, Jill Young and Bobby Tong were already whispering together.
"Haha, you pick the contest! I can't wait any longer!" After hiding out in Hundred Flowers Valley for so long, Bobby Tong had leveled up his cultivation, but he was itching for action like a chain-smoking grandpa denied his cigarettes. He'd been dying to find someone for a good brawl, and today was finally his lucky day.
Actually, among the two women he’d bumped into, the younger girl seemed even more mysterious—he couldn’t get a read on her at all. Maybe it was just the weird chemistry between two oddballs, but in that instant, his eyes locked onto the white-haired woman whose words, gestures, and gaze all radiated pure, guileless honesty. Something told him: a match with this white-haired lady would be way more fun.
"Since you want to compete and let me pick, I won’t be shy. We’re martial artists—no point in anything else. Let’s get physical!"
"Great, great, great!" Bobby Tong threw up both hands in enthusiastic agreement.
[Great, great, great!] Aunt Crystal echoed in her heart, clapping mentally: [Good, let’s get physical! If I win, I don’t want anything else—just let me cut off that gorgeous mane of hers. I’ve always been jealous of it!]
[Great, great, great!] Wu Zhengfeng was also cheering internally: [With my arm strength, I’ll crush him in seconds! If I win, I don’t want anything else—just make him draw a big silly turtle on his wife’s face. Couples who flaunt their love every three sentences deserve the world’s collective eye-roll! (Ladies' Circle will love this.)]
"But honestly, just slugging it out is kind of boring. All that punching and kicking feels so uninspired, no flavor at all. Hmmm, what if we..." Jill Young pinched her chin, gazing up at the sky and down at the ground, pondering a more creative way to duel.
Suddenly, not far in front of her, a river was flowing along, minding its own business. The current was swift—yesterday’s heavy rain had really pumped up the water levels in the southern mountains. Floating along the river was a log, about the size of a person’s hug, drifting steadily downstream, looking for all the world like it was about to raise a sign saying, “Just passing by, don’t mind me.”
But when Jill Young spotted that log, her eyes suddenly lit up and she snapped her fingers: "I've got it!"
Everyone else perked up curiously. (Bobby Tong, nicknamed 'Old Mischief,' looked especially intrigued.)