Chapter 119: Betting on Whether You Can Survive

Ying Du never expected Gu Ning’an to ask such a question at this critical moment.

After a brief pause, Ying Du chuckled and said, “Naturally, it would be best to wager with that Immortal my master encountered back then. But if I could meet the Immortal today, wouldn’t it be a good chance to test my skills?”

Gu Ning’an asked again, “Do you intend to win?”

“Why else would one gamble, sir?” Ying Du laughed. “If not to win, then what’s the point?”

Hearing this, Gu Ning’an nodded slightly, smiling as he replied, “Very well, then what if I were to tell you that I am the person your master met all those years ago?”

Clink!

The teacup Ying Du had just picked up wobbled in his hand, nearly spilling its contents. He quickly wiped the tea from the corner of his mouth, forcing a sheepish grin. “Mr. Gu, that joke isn’t very funny.”

Gu Ning’an smiled faintly. “You know about the incident where your master encountered a vengeful spirit and was saved by an immortal, don’t you?”

Whoosh!

Ying Du shot to his feet, his pupils trembling as he stared intently. “Mr. Gu, are you truly the Immortal from back then?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Gu Ning’an replied with a smile.

Ying Du swallowed hard and said, “You certainly resemble him—so much so that I’ve been too afraid to confirm it… But since you know about the vengeful spirit, you must be the Immortal my master met back then!”

“Now that you’ve revealed yourself to me, is it because you want to wager with me?”

Gu Ning’an nodded. “Exactly.”

Ying Du eagerly leaned forward and asked, “What shall we bet on? Dice? Pai Gow? Cricket fights?”

“Enough,” Gu Ning’an interrupted. “I’ll bet with you on this: whether you can survive Qiu Qianren’s so-called Immortal’s Trial.”

“Huh?” Ying Du froze for a moment before asking, “Does this trial involve death?”

Gu Ning’an pointed to the now-empty pavilion and countered, “The first round already claimed so many lives. Do you think the second round will spare more?”

“Additionally, let me give you a piece of information: this so-called Immortal Sword Manual is not what you imagine it to be. It’s quite similar to the vengeful spirit your master encountered back then—only far stronger.”

“You can think of it as a malicious ghost that delights in devouring human souls…”

Gulp.

Ying Du’s throat went dry as he turned to Liu Feixue, trembling as he said, “Miss Liu, you must stick with me later. I’ll do the thinking, and you handle the fighting… Together, we—”

“Don’t bother,” Gu Ning’an interrupted. “She can’t hear you.”

Before Ying Du could react, all the candles in the pavilion were suddenly extinguished.

Clang!

The sound of a sword reverberated through the air!

Ying Du’s vision went dark, and he felt his body collapse involuntarily.

Thud! Thud!

Two ghostly blue flames flickered to life, casting faint light into the surroundings.

Nearly a hundred martial artists were now gathered together. They glanced around, finding nothing but those two flames, which illuminated two narrow dugout canoes—each barely wide enough to hold six people—and a murky black-and-yellow river.

From the depths of the black-and-yellow river came intermittent click-clack sounds, an eerie noise that grated on the nerves.

Ying Du looked around and saw Liu Feixue to his right. Looking farther out, he also spotted Lu Yao and Lu Ming, the two brothers, but there was no sign of Gu Ning’an.

“Miss Liu, did you see Mr. Gu?” Ying Du asked anxiously.

“Mr. Gu?” Liu Feixue frowned. “I only heard a sword’s cry earlier. When I opened my eyes, I was already here.”

“But he was just talking to you earlier. You should know better than I do, shouldn’t you?”

Could he not have entered…? Ying Du grabbed Liu Feixue’s arm and led her a short distance away. In a low voice, he recounted what Gu Ning’an had said earlier.

Upon hearing this, Liu Feixue couldn’t help but laugh. “If Mr. Gu had told me this personally, I might have believed it. But coming from you…”

“Do you think I’ll believe it?”

Ying Du let out a frustrated sigh and said, “Regardless, don’t act rashly later. You’ve got the martial skills, I’ve got the gambling luck. Otherwise, neither of us is getting out alive.”

“Just stay close to me,” Liu Feixue replied.

As soon as the two finished speaking, a voice echoed from the pitch-black sky above. It was Qiu Qianren, hovering midair with an imposing expression. “Everyone, you have entered the Immortal’s Trial. If you survive and pass, you will be granted the Immortal Sword Manual personally.”

Looking at Qiu Qianren floating above them, the crowd’s desire for the Immortal Sword Manual grew even stronger.

Qiu Qianren had achieved flight after obtaining the Immortal Sword Manual—surely, it must be the power of an Immortal!

“I’m going first!” A small, wiry swordsman dashed with incredible speed toward the narrow canoe on the left.

In the blink of an eye, he had leaped aboard, grabbed the oar, and began rowing.

“Quick, follow him!” Liu Feixue was about to charge toward the other canoe when Ying Du grabbed her arm tightly. “There’s something in the water!”

Splash!

A dark shadow shot out of the murky black-and-yellow river, yanking the wiry swordsman off the canoe and into the water.

A bloodcurdling scream rang out, followed by a crimson stain spreading across the water’s surface.

“What was that thing just now? Did anyone see it clearly?”

“It was just a shadow—it looked human!”

“Bullshit! What kind of human can hold their breath underwater like that?”

The martial artists halted at the riverbank, their chatter filled with unease. After witnessing what had happened, no one dared to make a move.

“Thanks,” Liu Feixue said quietly.

“Don’t mention it,” Ying Du waved it off. “We’re on the same side.”

Liu Feixue shot him a glance and frowned. “Then when do you plan to let go of me?”

“Huh?” Realizing he was still gripping Liu Feixue’s arm, Ying Du quickly let go and awkwardly changed the subject. “The thing in the water must be the malicious ghost Mr. Gu mentioned. Let’s let them go first and observe the situation.”

Liu Feixue nodded. “Agreed.”

The once-bustling pavilion had fallen silent. All around, martial artists lay sprawled lifelessly on the floor.

At the center of the pavilion, Qiu Qianren stood, gripping his ghostly sword. A strange, black aura emanated from the sword, spreading outward like ripples.

Outside the pavilion, wandering spirits began pouring in, floating and wailing as they moved.

“How strange… where did that person go?” Qiu Qianren murmured, opening his eyes in confusion.

Instinctively, he glanced toward the third floor of the pavilion, but he didn’t see the green-robed figure he was searching for.

Gripping the ghostly sword tightly, a dark glimmer flashed across his eyes. In that moment, it seemed as though he could pierce through any obstacle and glimpse what lay beyond.

Yet no matter how hard he searched, he couldn’t locate the green-robed man.

“This is impossible… There’s no way he could have left the pavilion!” Qiu Qianren muttered to himself, his expression growing tense and his tone increasingly frantic.

“Are you looking for me, Lord Qiu?” A calm voice rang out.

Qiu Qianren turned sharply, his face changing dramatically.

There, on the third floor of the pavilion, Gu Ning’an sat leisurely in his original spot, sipping tea as if nothing had happened.

A chill ran up Qiu Qianren’s spine. He had looked at that very spot earlier—Gu Ning’an’s seat—and it had been empty!

But now…

Huff… huff…

Qiu Qianren exhaled deeply, gripping the ghostly sword as he bowed respectfully. “It seems I’ve been blind to greatness, sir. May I ask your esteemed name? Surely, you are not here for the Immortal Sword Manual?”

Gu Ning’an smiled faintly. “No need for formalities. My surname is Gu. I came here initially to see the Immortal Sword Manual, but discovering it to be an evil art created by a ghost cultivator… well, it’s rather uninteresting.”