Chapter Twenty-Two: The Duel

ICP Filing Number: Xiang B2-20100081-3 Internet Publishing License: Xin Chu Wang Zheng (Xiang) No. 11 Online Cultural Business License: Wen Wang Wen [2010] No. 128

On the open-air terrace of the Lanya Grand Theater, Xiu Yi stood opposite a group of noble men and women.

The moment his words left his lips, the young noble before him voiced his dissatisfaction, “Are you questioning the lord’s abilities?”

Xiu Yi replied with a smile, “No, sir, I am well aware of the lord’s power. A sixth-level spatial sorcerer combined with fourth-level mastery of water—such a person would prove difficult even for a Star Warrior to defeat. But I understand, too, that sheer force does not account for everything. Even the most miraculous magic cannot allow one to do as they please. If it could, there would be no crime in this world, and the throne would not be occupied by His Majesty Strick.”

The noble youth was silenced by Xiu Yi’s words, and he could even hear the lady beside him stifling her laughter, which only deepened his discontent.

“Nevertheless, if that Xiu Yi Glaire dares to show himself, he will certainly be captured. He’s like a rat in the gutter, disturbing the peace of all. If he appears before me, I swear I’ll sever his legs with this sword!”

The noble youth patted the magical longsword at his waist, pride gleaming in his eyes.

His boast drew the approval of his companions. Another young man with chestnut hair chimed in, “Exactly. If Xiu Yi Glaire dares to appear before me, I’ll catch him myself. I’ll bring his head to the lord, and with the Imperial reward, purchase the most beautiful gemstone—the Emerald Heart—and present it to you, Lady Christine. I’ll have it set in your necklace. Only your beauty is worthy of a treasure worth ten thousand gold Vitts.”

“Oh, that’s precisely what I wanted to say!” cried the youth wearing a silver tie. Clearly, he was not pleased his companion had stolen his words of praise.

It was evident that this topic had drawn much attention.

A large group of young nobles, united in their indignation, declared that should Xiu Yi Glaire dare to appear, they would capture him on the spot and thus prove their courage to the ladies they admired.

And the object of their flattery was none other than the beautiful Lady Christine, who held her wine glass and regarded them all with curious eyes.

Up to this moment, she had not spoken a single word. Xiu Yi, however, found himself recalling certain rumors about the name Christine.

He had heard that in the Lanse Empire, there was a wealthy widow who once captured the heart of a former emperor, who sought to marry her but ultimately failed. That widow, it seemed, was called Christine. Could it be that the Christine before him, adored by all the gentlemen, was that same captivating lady?

Unexpectedly, Christine did not seem pleased by the flattery of the men at her side. Instead, she frowned, almost imperceptibly, as if quite dissatisfied.

Xiu Yi could not help but interject, “Forgive me for speaking plainly, but I do not believe that gifting this lady a gem worth ten thousand gold Vitts would benefit her in any way.”

The crowd turned to Xiu Yi in surprise, even Lady Christine’s eyes widened as she looked at him.

The chestnut-haired youth was irate, “Are you implying Lady Christine is unworthy?”

“For that remark, I must challenge you to a duel!” The youth with the silver tie was already preparing to draw his white glove.

Should he throw the glove at Xiu Yi’s feet, Xiu Yi would be compelled either to accept the duel or to leave in disgrace.

At that moment, Lady Christine, surrounded by admirers, spoke at last, “Why don’t we first hear this gentleman’s reasons before making any decisions? The sages have said, impulsiveness leads only to error.”

Then the lovely lady fixed Xiu Yi with her enchanting gaze, “I don’t think that’s what you meant, did you? Though you are young, I can see you are not one to speak rashly. There is a mysterious quality about you; I sense you have experienced many interesting things.”

“Lady, you flatter me. I only wished to say that true beauty needs no adornment. To drape oneself in jewels only obscures one’s own radiance behind glittering trinkets. It is like a true oil painting—never dependent on the frame’s craftsmanship. An overly ornate frame detracts from the painting’s essence. If you were to wear such a jeweled necklace, I wonder whether people would admire your gemstones more than they would admire you.” Xiu Yi replied.

At last, the crowd understood.

Christine laughed softly; clearly, Xiu Yi’s words resonated with her. Among all the nobles on the terrace, she wore the least jewelry, and yet she was surrounded by the most men. She was a woman who understood how to present herself; to her, luxurious adornments served to enhance a woman’s beauty, not to overshadow it.

Between wealth and beauty, she valued the latter more.

Those women who believed piling on gaudy ornaments would render them more beautiful were, without doubt, foolish. They failed to play to their strengths; even a simple string of beads, if it suited them, meant more than a treasure worth ten thousand gold.

The crowd gazed at Xiu Yi, clearly impressed. Though young, he possessed a refined and elegant air, and his words were well-organized. Many nobles who did not know his background assumed he must be a prodigy cultivated by some distinguished family.

The chestnut-haired youth protested, “That may serve as an excuse for the common folk, who use such reasoning to win the ladies’ hearts without spending a penny.”

A chorus of young nobles laughed in agreement.

Xiu Yi smiled, “You are not wrong, sir. But at least commoners do not rely on some elusive fugitive as proof of their devotion to love. Speaking of Xiu Yi Glaire, he is at least worth ten thousand gold Vitts. I wonder, if you never manage to capture him, will you also find yourself in the same financial predicament as the common folk? Perhaps I can describe your approach more directly: it’s called feeding on promises.”

“How dare you insult me?” the chestnut-haired youth shouted.

Xiu Yi grinned, “I do not see it as an insult. Perhaps you think highly of yourself, but in my eyes, you are no more valuable than a fugitive. Ten thousand gold Vitts… I doubt the Lanse Empire would offer such a price for you.”

This was an unmistakable slight, reducing the youth below even a fugitive, and all eyes turned to him.

Overwhelmed by Xiu Yi’s words, the youth’s anger boiled over. He swiftly drew his white glove and flung it before Xiu Yi, “I, Viscount of the Morell family, in the name of the beautiful Christine, challenge you to a duel!”

On the continent of Wind’s Call, tales and legends of duels were never in short supply.

If one wished, one could hear stories every day of nobles dueling over some dispute or another. Once a duel was declared, both parties could openly kill one another without fear of legal consequence. The loser’s family could not seek vengeance.

It seemed women were indeed often at the heart of turmoil. In mere minutes, two men had already prepared or declared duels against Xiu Yi.

Xiu Yi found it somewhat amusing.

He glanced at the white glove on the ground. He knew that picking it up meant formally accepting the duel.

A melodious tune drifted through the air; Xiu Yi understood that this signaled the opening act of the Violet Dance Troupe.

Ignoring the other’s rage and the glove at his feet, Xiu Yi walked over to the crystal wall and looked down at the stage.

As the brass instruments played, the curtain slowly rose, revealing the opening scene—a chilling, ominous atmosphere:

Towering palace walls, guarded by vigilant sentinels wielding massive blades. At one side, a gleaming bronze gong; facing it, a row of wooden posts bearing a dozen grotesque heads. A crowd of citizens gathered, seemingly awaiting something.

At last, a minister stepped forward, solemnly declaring, “Citizens of the capital, heed well: The noble Princess Turandot has issued three riddles to seek a consort. Any who wish may attempt to answer, but if they fail, they will lose their lives!”

The performance began.

Watching the stage, Xiu Yi’s tightly pressed lips finally relaxed into a smile.

His indifference further enraged the chestnut-haired youth.

He shouted at Xiu Yi’s back, “Are you afraid now? Coward! If you fear death, apologize to me and my friends at once. I might reconsider my challenge.”

At that moment, the noble youth was as arrogant as a king, his gaze toward Christine full of confidence.

Xiu Yi watched the stage outside the crystal wall for a long while, ensuring the performers were well, then slowly turned to address the noble youth, “I have no interest whatsoever in such a duel, so I decline your challenge.”

A hum rose from the crowd, and people cast scornful looks at Xiu Yi.

Refusing a noble’s duel challenge was always considered cowardly in high society. Many young nobles, faced with such public challenges, would accept even if it meant certain death.

Few dared to refuse as Xiu Yi had done. Even the beautiful Christine frowned in displeasure.

It was the first time anyone had openly refused a duel in her presence. Though privately she considered dueling to be one of men’s most foolish behaviors, seeing someone refuse it was still uncomfortable.

Perhaps all women were like this—they enjoyed watching men compete for their favor, even fight for it.

The chestnut-haired youth laughed triumphantly, “Since you admit you’re a coward, apologize to me!”

Xiu Yi shook his head gently, “I think you misunderstand me. I refused your challenge not out of fear, but because it is utterly unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary? A duel for honor and dignity—how can that be unnecessary?” the youth shouted.

A mocking smile appeared on Xiu Yi’s face.

“For honor and dignity? Viscount Morell, that may be your lifelong pursuit, but alas, it is not mine.”

He stepped back to the center of the crowd, surveying those around him, and spoke loudly:

“I know you were born into wealth, never lacking for anything. I can well imagine you have no idea how harsh life can be outside. You have never struggled at the edge of life and death, so you cannot understand the value of life, nor the true meaning of freedom. Because you do not grasp the truth of freedom, you naively believe honor and dignity mean everything, that one can duel for their sake—even risking life for a few insulting words or a lady’s favor. This is the idealist’s way—a form of irresponsibility toward life.”

“Unlike you, I was not born into a noble family. The place I lived was the darkest of this world—even worse than the slums. The shadows I faced daily forced me to work hard, to bow and scrape, just for the chance to survive. I had to smile at those who persecuted me, offer them the sweetest lies, to make my life a little easier. Honor and dignity… ha, they were never my pursuit. Had I chased after them, I would not be standing here speaking with you.”

“So, I know the preciousness of life. I know how hard-won freedom and existence are. I would never risk my life for empty honor and dignity, because I cherish life. You nobles treat life as a game, but I’m sorry—that is not my way.”

“If I take up arms, it is never for foolish honor, dignity, or a lady who does not love me. When I pick up a weapon, it means I am confident of victory. For me, that is not a duel—it is slaughter.”

“So, if you wish to duel me, you must first be mentally prepared. I mean… truly… prepared to face death.”

His words left everyone stunned, and none noticed that as Xiu Yi spoke, he was quietly moving closer to the chestnut-haired youth.

Just as Viscount Morell realized Xiu Yi was too close, Xiu Yi suddenly lunged forward, clamped his left hand around the youth’s throat, and with his right hand seized a table knife, aiming it at the viscount’s eye.

A chorus of screams erupted.

The knife hovered at Morell’s eyelid.

“Let him go!” many shouted, and several warriors rushed forward, trying to pull Xiu Yi away, who was now a serious threat to the viscount’s life.

Xiu Yi spoke coldly, “Whoever approaches, I’ll blind him.”

Everyone froze in place.

Xiu Yi looked mockingly at the terrified Viscount Morell, “Now, apologize to me.”

“No!” Morell shouted.

The knife pressed harder against his eyelid, and the pressure on his eyeball