C17 Seeing Gao Yubo!

After relinquishing his silver and soul stone, Meng Yang clutched a copper coin tightly, ready to await a signal. As the procession drew nearer, Lin Zitong's gaze eventually settled on him. Meng Yang's fists clenched, his face the picture of guilt as he bowed his head and turned away, his body quivering.

His over-the-top performance and awkward twitching had successfully deceived Lin Zitong.

"Hey, why haven't you greeted me yet? What are you hiding there in your hands?"

Meng Yang's face flushed as he turned to face her, careful not to meet Lin Zitong's eyes, which only served to confirm her suspicions. Without hesitation, she commanded the guards to seize him.

"Greetings, Miss Lin Zitong..."

As Lin Zitong blinked, a flicker of surprise crossed her expressive eyes.

"You're such a fool!" Meng Yang kept his head down, yet inwardly he was gleeful, resolved to take Lin Zitong for all she was worth.

Lin Zitong, receiving no reply, snorted sharply. "You're acting all secretive. Have you stolen something? Come clean to me, right now!"

"Miss, you've got it all wrong. I've only just become a disciple; I don't have the power to steal from others. This is my family's heirloom."

"Family heirloom?" Lin Zitong's eyes sparkled with intrigue at the mention.

She glanced at her guard, then stepped closer to Meng Yang with a childlike curiosity. "Let me see it!"

Meng Yang looked distressed as he hesitated. "It's not that I don't want you to see it, Miss, but I fear others might covet it if they knew. Your reputation for kindness and charm is well-known among the Lin family disciples. I trust you, Miss, but I don't trust..."

He trailed off, but Lin Zitong, no stranger to such situations, understood his implication. She approached the housekeeper, whispered a few words, and moments later, the housekeeper and the guards withdrew to a respectful distance.

"Alright, let's have a look now..."

With a look of grievance, Meng Yang extended his trembling hand, revealing the object of their discussion. Lin Zitong nearly burst into laughter.

A very ordinary-looking copper coin lay quietly in Meng Yang's palm, still warm from his prolonged grip.

"Isn't this just a copper coin? A family heirloom, you say?"

Meng Yang rolled his eyes, adopting a condescending tone as he explained, "This is no ordinary copper coin. It's a rarity in this world, with the obverse mistakenly stamped on the reverse, and vice versa. I wouldn't have even considered parting with it if I weren't in dire need of soul stones."

"I'll take it for five soul stones!" Lin Zitong declared with a cold huff, feigning indifference. Yet, her eyes remained fixed on the coin, her adorable face practically broadcasting, 'This is Lin Zitong's prize.'

Meng Yang, through gritted teeth and heavy breaths, countered, "Twenty, or it's not for sale."

"You dare threaten me?"

Confronted with Lin Zitong's fierce gaze, Meng Yang stood his ground, albeit reluctantly. "I wouldn't dream of threatening the young lady."

"I had no intention of selling it, but it seemed a shame to let the coin's unassuming exterior hide its unknown golden luster. It wasn't until I saw you, Miss, that I realized this one-of-a-kind copper coin was only fitting for a peerless, world-illuminating beauty like yourself."

"Hmph, smooth talker. Fine, twenty it is. Take it!"

Watching Lin Zitong's group depart triumphantly with the copper coin, Meng Yang's lips twisted into an almost crooked smile.

Little girls, after all, love to be flattered. But flattery without substance is like unsweetened water—it may quench thirst but leaves no sweetness behind. Only by proclaiming the coin's unparalleled rarity could he convince Lin Zitong of its worth.

Wealth: 5,090.

Level: Mortal.

Physical Body: None.

Heart Sutra: Scripture of the Triune Soul (Introductory).

Martial Arts: Level 2 Water Serpent Style, Level 2 Soul Stealing Palm, Level 2 Flesh Puppet.

"Who would have thought that this approach could actually increase my wealth value..."

"Could it be that I, Meng Yang, am destined to become a con artist?" Meng Yang mused, feeling the air turn sweet as he gazed at his wealth value surpassing the 5,000 mark.

By the time he reached the Martial Hall, half an incense stick's worth of time had passed. Once again, he was struck by the sheer size of the Lin family's estate and the vast number of disciples within the Martial Hall.

The plaza was immense, spanning the size of three football fields, paved with white stone. At its center stood a steel pole as thick as a man's waist, topped with a black flag that fluttered in the wind. The words "Martial Hall" emblazoned on the flag lent an ineffable aura to the skies above.

Beneath the flag, the crowd was buzzing with excitement, their cheers ebbing and flowing. Easily three hundred strong, they formed rings around the combatants, eagerly watching friends, foes, and rivals spar. Among them were numerous beautiful female disciples, prompting a grin from Meng Yang.

"Oh no, I've lost again. There go my soul stones..."

"I lost too. Could this be a rigged match? I was leading the whole time, and then suddenly, defeat."

"Hehehe, six Whispershards, I'm in the money."

As Meng Yang stepped into one of the dueling rings, the fight had just concluded. The victors were jubilant, while the losers hung their heads in dejection, listless as if they had just had their hearts broken. The combatants themselves fared even worse; once the outcome was decided, they were quickly forgotten.

But Meng Yang had been watching closely and realized that the pair had indeed thrown the fight. As soon as the match was over, they scurried to a nearby gambling table to divide the winning soul stones in secret.

"Uh oh, I sense hostility..."

Caught up in his observations, Meng Yang was jolted out of his thoughts by a piercing gaze. He looked up, barely suppressing a chuckle. A young man with a scar across his face was glaring at him through the throng with a menacing stare.

Realizing he had been taken down by a surprise attack, Gao Yubo was seething with rage. They say that enemies' eyes blaze with fury upon meeting, and Gao Yubo's were indeed blazing—so much so that one might mistake his glare for a case of conjunctivitis.

"Staring me down? In the realm of stare-downs, I, Meng Yang, have never backed down from anyone..."

It was as though they had struck an unspoken agreement; neither of them blinked. Even as tears streamed down and their eyes ached, they maintained their intense gaze, determined not to relent until the other was defeated. Their standoff drew a large crowd, captivated by their resolve.

There were those who engaged in direct combat and those who challenged the high-level disciples like Gao Yubo, but a staring contest was unprecedented.

"Come on, place your bets, we've got another battle here!"

Someone bellowed with a voice as loud as a gong, swelling the already sizable crowd.

Meng Yang's heart skipped a beat at the chorus of bets being placed: "I wager six soul stones, I bet five soul stones."

"Hold on..."

The crowd, thinking Meng Yang was intimidated, started to jeer at this pause.

But Meng Yang paid them no mind, rubbing his hands together with a playful grin. "Seeing everyone else betting has given me the itch to join in. I know the rules—I can bet on myself, right?"

With that, he didn't even glance at the astonished faces around him.

He pulled out fifty-one Whispershards from his pocket and placed them on his own name.

The gleaming stones even had Gao Yubo, who was ready to mock, staring in disbelief.

The rest of the onlookers rubbed their eyes, making sure they weren't seeing things.