Morning came with the sound of rain.
Wuya woke to water drumming against the roof tiles, the steady rhythm almost meditative. He lay there for a moment, listening, then rose and went to the window. The streets of Silverpeak City were slick and gray, puddles forming in the uneven cobblestones. Disciples hurried past with oiled paper umbrellas, heading toward the Assembly grounds.
Rain meant the smaller arenas would be unusable. Everything would move to the covered main arena and the pavilions. More crowded. More attention.
Wuya splashed water on his face, tied his hair back, and checked his sword. The blade was clean, edge sharp despite never having left its sheath during the matches. He ran his thumb along the scabbard, feeling the worn wood.
*Maybe today,* he thought. Then shrugged. *Or maybe not.*
By the time he reached the Assembly grounds, the rain had settled into a light drizzle. The main arena was already packed, spectators filling every available seat under the massive covered structure. The smell of wet earth mixed with incense and cooking food from nearby stalls.
"Wuya!"
He turned to find Liya jogging toward him, holding a meat bun wrapped in paper. She thrust it at him.
"Eat. You need energy."
"I had rice porridge at the inn."
"That's not enough. Eat." She waited until he took a bite. "Good. Now listen - I've been asking around. Your opponent today is Du Feng from the Iron Mountain Sect."
Wuya chewed thoughtfully. The bun was good - pork and vegetables, still warm.
"Iron Mountain is a mid-tier sect from the western provinces," Liya continued. "They specialize in external cultivation - body strengthening, defensive techniques. Du Feng is twenty-six and known for outlasting opponents. He's not flashy, but he's solid. Literally."
"Defensive specialist," Wuya said.
"Right. Which means your usual strategy of dodging until they get frustrated might not work. He'll just wait you out, force you to engage." She paused. "You might actually have to attack this time."
"We'll see."
"Why do you keep saying that?"
"Because I don't know until I see him fight."
Liya groaned. "You're impossible. Fine. Just... be careful. The round of sixteen is where things get serious. No more easy matches."
The announcement echoed across the grounds: "Round of sixteen participants, report to the main arena!"
Wuya finished the meat bun and handed the paper back to Liya. "Thanks for breakfast."
"Don't die," she called after him.
"I'll try."
The main arena floor had been covered with sand to absorb the rain. Eight fighting circles were marked out, allowing multiple matches to run simultaneously. Officials directed fighters to their assigned positions. Wuya found his circle - number three, near the center of the arena.
Du Feng was already waiting.
He was built like a boulder - broad shoulders, thick arms, stance so stable he looked rooted to the ground. His skin had an odd sheen to it, like polished stone. Iron Mountain's body cultivation at work. He wore simple brown robes and carried no visible weapon.
The referee stepped between them. "Circle three - Jin Wuya of Clearwater Sect versus Du Feng of Iron Mountain Sect. Standard rules apply. Ready?"
"Ready," Du Feng said. His voice was deep, calm.
"Ready," Wuya said.
"Begin!"
Du Feng didn't charge. He took a solid stance and watched Wuya with patient eyes. His qi was different from the others Wuya had faced - not aggressive or sharp, but dense. Heavy. Like trying to push through mud.
"I watched your matches," Du Feng said. "Good technique. But technique only works if you can hurt your opponent."
He raised his arm and tapped his own chest. The sound was like knocking on stone. "Iron Mountain's Diamond Body. I've spent ten years strengthening my external cultivation. Your finger strikes won't work on me."
"Interesting," Wuya said.
"So what will you do? Keep dodging until time runs out? The matches have a limit now - one incense stick. If neither fighter wins, judges decide based on performance." Du Feng gestured to an incense holder at the edge of the circle, already burning. "You'll have to engage eventually."
Wuya considered this. It was true - dodging indefinitely wasn't a strategy here. Du Feng wouldn't chase him wildly like Yan Feng. Wouldn't give him openings to exploit.
"Fair point," Wuya said.
He walked forward, closing the distance between them. Du Feng watched but didn't react, standing like a mountain waiting for the wind.
Wuya stopped just outside striking range. "Can I try something?"
Du Feng blinked. "What?"
"Your Diamond Body. I want to test it. With your permission."
The crowd murmured. This was unusual - asking permission in the middle of a match.
Du Feng studied Wuya's face, then slowly nodded. "Go ahead. It won't hurt me."
Wuya reached out and tapped Du Feng's chest with two fingers - the same strike he'd used on Yan Feng and Wei. No qi behind it, just physical contact.
It was like tapping solid rock. Du Feng didn't budge.
"See?" Du Feng said. "Ten years of—"
Wuya tapped again, same spot. Then again, slightly higher. Then lower. Each tap light, exploratory. Du Feng frowned but allowed it, confident in his cultivation.
*Interesting,* Wuya thought, feeling the resonance of each tap. *The density isn't uniform. Stronger at the center, weaker at the joints. And there - at the solar plexus - there's a slight give. Maybe a finger's width of difference, but it's there.*
"Are you done?" Du Feng asked.
"Almost." Wuya tapped one more spot, just below the ribcage. A tiny variation in the stone-like surface, so small most people would never notice.
"Okay," Wuya said, stepping back. "Thank you."
"You're welcome?" Du Feng looked confused. "But that doesn't help you win."
"Maybe not."
The referee glanced at them both uncertainly. "Fighters, if you're not going to engage—"
"We're engaging," Wuya said.
This time when he moved, it was faster. Not attacking, just circling, forcing Du Feng to turn to track him. Du Feng rotated smoothly, maintaining his solid stance.
Wuya tested a few strikes - palm strike to the shoulder, knife-hand to the ribs, straight punch to the chest. Each one bounced off harmlessly. Du Feng didn't even flinch.
"I told you," Du Feng said. "You can't hurt me with normal strikes."
"You're right." Wuya dodged back as Du Feng finally went on the offensive, throwing a heavy punch that Wuya slipped past. "But normal strikes aren't the only option."
Du Feng's next punch came faster. Then a palm strike. Then a low kick. His movements were deliberate, conserving energy, each attack calculated to force Wuya into a corner or trap him against the circle boundary.
Wuya wove between the strikes, but this time he was doing something different. Each time he dodged, he'd tap or brush against Du Feng - shoulder, elbow, hip, knee. Light contact, seemingly pointless.
But he was learning. Feeling the variations in Du Feng's cultivation. Mapping the body, finding the places where the Diamond Body technique was fractionally weaker.
*There,* he thought after the fifteenth exchange. *Inside of the left knee. And the right elbow. Both joints show slight weakness when he extends fully.*
The incense stick was halfway burned.
Du Feng's attacks were getting heavier, more committed. He was realizing that time was running out and judges' decision might not favor a defensive performance. "Stop running and fight!"
"I am fighting," Wuya said. "Just not the way you're used to."
He ducked under a wide punch and, for the first time, struck with intent. His palm hit Du Feng's left knee at the exact moment it was fully extended, targeting the weak point he'd mapped earlier.
Du Feng's leg buckled slightly. Just a fraction, but visible.
Du Feng's eyes widened. "You—"
Wuya struck the right elbow next, timing it for when Du Feng's punch extended. Another minute disruption in the Diamond Body's integrity.
"You're finding the gaps," Du Feng said, more impressed than angry. "How?"
"You gave me permission to test your defense," Wuya said simply. "So I tested it."
Du Feng laughed - a genuine sound of appreciation. "Clever. But knowing where the gaps are and actually breaking through are different things."
He was right. Even at the weak points, Du Feng's cultivation was formidable. It would take significant force to actually damage him, and Wuya was still fighting without qi enhancement.
The incense stick burned lower.
Wuya considered his options. He could start using qi, put real power behind the strikes. But something about that felt... wasteful. Like using a hammer to crack a nut.
*What would Elder Feng do?* he thought. Then smiled. *He'd tell me to stop thinking like there's only one kind of force.*
Du Feng launched another combination. Wuya slipped past the first punch, ducked the second, and instead of striking, he grabbed Du Feng's extended arm.
For the first time in the match, Du Feng looked genuinely surprised.
Wuya didn't try to overpower him. Instead, he used Du Feng's own momentum, redirecting the force of the punch in a circular motion. It was basic grappling, the kind of technique any martial artist learned early on, but applied with perfect timing.
Du Feng stumbled forward, his solid stance broken by his own weight.
Before he could recover, Wuya was behind him, tapping the back of both knees in quick succession - the weak points he'd identified earlier.
Du Feng's legs folded. He caught himself with his hands, but he was on the ground.
The crowd gasped.
Du Feng looked up at Wuya, who stood a few feet away, hands back in his sleeves. The big man started to laugh. "You didn't break my Diamond Body. You just ignored it."
"Your defense is incredible," Wuya said honestly. "But defense isn't the same as stability. Everything moves if you apply force from the right angle."
Du Feng pushed himself to his feet, brushing sand from his robes. He looked at the referee, then at the nearly burned incense stick, then at Wuya.
"I yield," he said. "I could stand here all day and you couldn't break through my cultivation with force. But you'd just keep finding ways around it. No point dragging this out."
The referee raised his hand. "Winner - Jin Wuya of Clearwater Sect!"
The crowd erupted in cheers and confused murmurs. Three matches now. Three different opponents, three different styles. And Jin Wuya still hadn't drawn his sword or used visible qi.
Du Feng walked over and clasped Wuya's shoulder. "That was the most frustrating and educational match I've had in years. Thank you."
"Your Diamond Body is impressive," Wuya said. "How long did it take to develop?"
"Ten years of daily cultivation. Body tempering, meditation, herbal baths. It's Iron Mountain's signature technique." Du Feng smiled. "And you found its weaknesses in about two minutes."
"Only because you let me test it."
"True." Du Feng's smile widened. "I won't make that mistake again. But I doubt we'll face each other in future tournaments. You're going much further than the round of sixteen."
They walked off the arena floor together. The other matches were still ongoing - Wuya had been so focused he hadn't noticed. In circle one, Bai Chenfeng was methodically dismantling an opponent with Azure Sky Alliance's flowing sword techniques. In circle five, Liu Yanmei from Crimson Blade Hall was locked in an intense exchange with someone in yellow robes.
Liya was waiting at the edge of the arena, practically bouncing with excitement. "You did it again! That was amazing! The way you just - and he couldn't - and you didn't even—" She took a breath. "Okay. Okay. Three for three. You're in the quarterfinals."
"Apparently," Wuya said.
"The betting houses are going insane. Your odds keep dropping. You're at ten-to-one now for the semifinals."
"Still not confident in me?"
"The great sect disciples haven't lost yet either. Bai Chenfeng, Liu Yanmei, Zhou Ming - they're all advancing." She lowered her voice. "And they're all watching you now. Really watching."
Wuya glanced back at the arena. Bai Chenfeng had finished his match - his opponent yielding after taking a sword strike to the shoulder. The Azure Sky disciple was looking directly at Wuya, his expression unreadable.
"Let them watch," Wuya said quietly.
They found a covered area to wait while the remaining matches concluded. The rain had picked up again, drumming steadily on the roof tiles. Wuya sat on a bench and closed his eyes, centering himself.
"Can I ask you something?" Liya said after a while.
Wuya opened one eye. "Sure."
"Why don't you use qi? I mean, you clearly have cultivation. I've seen enough martial artists to know. But you fight like you're trying to prove something by not using it."
"I'm not trying to prove anything."
"Then why?"
Wuya was quiet for a moment, considering how to explain. "Elder Feng taught me that qi is a tool, not a crutch. If you rely on it for everything, you forget the fundamentals. Timing, distance, reading your opponent. Those things matter more than how much power you can channel."
"That's... actually profound," Liya said. "But at some point, won't you face someone where fundamentals aren't enough? Where you need raw power to win?"
"Maybe. When I reach that point, I'll use what's necessary."
"And your sword? Same reasoning?"
"Same reasoning."
Liya shook her head. "You're either going to become a legend or get yourself killed. I haven't decided which yet."
An official approached them. "Jin Wuya? The quarterfinal matches have been scheduled. Tomorrow, main arena. You'll be facing—" he checked his tablet "—Bai Chenfeng of Azure Sky Alliance."
Liya went pale. "No. No, that's—"
"Thank you," Wuya said to the official, who bowed and left.
"Did you hear that?" Liya grabbed his arm. "Bai Chenfeng! Azure Sky Alliance's top disciple in this tournament! He's reached Master realm, has perfect scores in every match, and he's been training since he could walk!"
"I heard."
"And you're just... calm about this?"
"Would panicking help?"
"No, but—" Liya let go of his arm and ran her hands through her hair. "This is different from the others. Bai Chenfeng isn't going to underestimate you. He's seen your matches. He'll come prepared."
"Good," Wuya said. "I learn more from prepared opponents."
"You learn—" Liya stared at him. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? The challenge."
Wuya thought about it. Was he enjoying this? The matches were interesting. Each opponent taught him something new. And there was a certain satisfaction in facing skilled fighters and finding ways to adapt.
"Maybe a little," he admitted.
Liya laughed - a slightly hysterical sound. "You're insane. Completely insane. But..." She smiled. "I'm going to bet everything I have on you tomorrow."
"That seems financially irresponsible."
"Probably. But I've got a feeling about you, Jin Wuya." She stood up. "Come on. You need to eat properly today. If you're facing Bai Chenfeng tomorrow, you need your strength."
They walked through the rain to a restaurant Liya knew - actually nice, with private rooms and food that didn't taste like ambition mixed with dirt. Over dumplings and soup, Liya filled him in on everything she'd learned about Bai Chenfeng.
"Twenty-four years old. Reached Master realm at twenty-two. Trained directly under Azure Sky Alliance's Sect Leader. Specializes in Azure Sky's Thirteen Forms sword technique - supposedly one of the most complete sword arts in the jianghu. Has never lost a tournament match. Ever."
"Impressive," Wuya said, reaching for another dumpling.
"Is that all you're going to say?"
"What else should I say?"
"I don't know - express concern? Ask for advice? Something other than 'impressive' while eating dumplings?"
"The dumplings are really good."
Liya threw a chopstick at him. He caught it without looking up.
"Show off," she muttered. But she was smiling.
They finished the meal in comfortable silence, the rain continuing outside. When they finally left, the evening crowd had thinned. Disciples headed back to their inns or sect quarters, discussing the day's matches in excited tones.
"Get some rest," Liya said when they reached the point where their paths diverged. "Tomorrow's going to be... intense."
"Probably."
"Definitely." She hesitated, then added, "And Wuya? Thank you."
"For what?"
"For being interesting. This tournament was going to be boring - just great sect disciples crushing everyone else like always. But you made it fun." She smiled. "So try not to die tomorrow. The quarterfinals won't be the same without you."
She walked away into the evening streets, leaving Wuya standing in the rain.
He made his way back to his inn, nodding to the innkeeper who was starting to look at him with something approaching respect. Word traveled fast in Silverpeak City.
In his room, Wuya sat cross-legged on the bed and closed his eyes. His qi circulated naturally, following the familiar pathways. Steady. Calm. Like water flowing through channels worn smooth by time.
He thought about tomorrow's match. Bai Chenfeng. Azure Sky Alliance. A true test of skill against someone who'd been groomed for greatness from childhood.
*What will I learn from him?* Wuya wondered.
Outside, the rain continued to fall. Somewhere in the city, Bai Chenfeng was probably preparing too. Meditating. Planning. Confident in his inevitable victory.
Wuya opened his eyes and looked at his sword, leaning against the wall.
"Maybe tomorrow," he said quietly to the blade. "We'll see."
He lay down and let sleep take him, the sound of rain his lullaby.
Tomorrow would be very interesting indeed.