Chapter 66 | Man Who Asked for His Lane

Feng found him under the bracket-board awning.

She slipped in beside Xu, close enough to speak without raising her voice, and tipped her chin toward the crowd.

"Green sash. Broad shoulders. That’s him."

Xu followed her gaze.

The face clicked into place as soon as Feng pointed him out. He’d seen the man here before his first bout, standing near the merchant-house entries and watching Xu’s line on the bracket longer than anyone with no interest in it should have.

Back then, he had only noticed the stare.

Now Feng had given it a reason.

’So that’s the requester.’

The man was reading the board again. His hand rested against the edge of a pinned sheet while his eyes moved down the match lines.

Xu walked over.

The concourse had thickened with the afternoon crowd. Participants came and went from the staging passages. Families squeezed toward the board whenever someone stepped away. Steam rolled from a food stall behind Xu, followed by a vendor loudly insisting that a bun couldn’t be called small if it needed 2 hands to hold it.

The man looked up only when Xu stopped beside him.

"You asked for my lane."

His hand came off the sheet.

For a heartbeat, surprise showed plainly. Then his brows lowered.

"And?"

Xu left him an ordinary amount of space. His sword stayed sheathed at his left hip. Neither hand went near the hilt.

"Why?"

The man looked at Feng first, as if deciding whether she belonged in the conversation. Feng looked back without helping him.

"I watched your fight," he said. "I wanted the easier side of the bracket."

"Fair," Feng said.

He frowned at her. "You mocking me?"

"No."

The answer came so flat that his frown deepened.

Xu asked, "You didn’t want to meet me early."

"Would you?" The man knocked a knuckle against the board. "There are people up there I’d rather fight first. I’m here to advance, not prove I’m stupid."

That answer came quickly. No searching glance. No careful pause.

Xu believed he meant it.

He said nothing.

The man waited. When Xu still didn’t speak, he shifted toward the open concourse.

Xu didn’t stop him.

He could leave whenever he wanted.

He didn’t.

A tournament worker shouted at the crowd to keep the middle passage open. People shuffled aside with the usual complaints. 2 young cultivators squeezed behind Feng, still arguing about a palm strike from the last match.

Then another group pressed toward the board.

Xu moved with the flow instead of letting strangers pack around them. He shifted toward the outer edge of the same awning. Feng moved with him and settled on his right, leaving the man’s path to the concourse open.

The man glanced at the space they’d just left, then followed with an annoyed look.

"What else do you want?"

Xu asked, "Who paid you?"

The man’s mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

Then, too quickly, "Nobody paid me to fight you."

"I didn’t ask that."

"I know what you’re trying to make this sound like."

Xu’s voice stayed level. "Then don’t answer a question I didn’t ask."

The man turned back to the board. "I wanted your lane. That’s what I told you."

Feng made a quiet sound in her throat.

He looked at her sharply. "What?"

"Wanting an easier bracket makes sense." She glanced at him. "The money doesn’t."

His jaw set.

A loose corner of the pinned sheet fluttered in the breeze. He caught it with his palm and held it down harder than necessary.

"Damn it. Fine." His voice dropped. "I got paid for information. There. Happy?"

The woman beside the next sheet looked over.

His eyes flicked toward her. He lowered his voice another notch. "Do we have to do this here?"

"You can walk away," Xu said.

The man stared at him.

"You hunt me down, ask who paid me, then tell me I can walk away?"

"Yes."

Feng’s lips twitched.

Neither of them moved to close the open path.

The man looked at it, then back at Xu, and cursed under his breath.

Xu asked, "What were you selling?"

"Your lane. Changes on the board. Who they put near your name." He gestured toward the sheets. "Nothing secret. I didn’t steal a damn thing. Most of it ended up in front of everyone anyway. They paid so they didn’t have to stand here watching it themselves."

"Who are they?"

"I don’t know."

Feng raised an eyebrow. "You took money from someone you can’t name?"

"For reading a public board." His voice sharpened. "I wasn’t handing over Azure Cloud’s inner records."

"Didn’t say you were."

"Your face did."

Feng’s raised eyebrow didn’t move. "My face is innocent."

The man gave her a long look.

Xu nearly smiled, but let the moment pass.

"What did the payment cover?"

"I just told you." Irritation roughened the man’s voice. "Lane changes. Match lines. Information. Nobody paid me for a result, if that’s where you’re going with this."

A few people nearby had gone quiet over the bracket.

A cultivator in a blue practice robe glanced from the requester to Xu, then quickly found something fascinating on the board when Xu looked his way. The attention was spreading. If Xu turned this into an accusation now, the crowd would carry it farther than the facts. He had no use for that.

The man’s ears colored when he caught someone looking.

"Wonderful," he muttered. "Now I’ve got an audience."

"You’re doing most of the talking," Feng said.

He glared at her.

She ignored it.

Xu kept the next question narrow. "No name?"

"No."

"No mark, token, anything you’d recognize again?"

The man took longer to answer. His thumb rubbed the edge of the paper beneath his hand, then shook his head. "Nothing useful."

Xu watched him.

The hesitation could mean anything.

The faded merchant mark at the Medicine Hall came back to him, along with the tampered recovery jar. He left them unspoken. If the man knew nothing about the medicine, mentioning it would only show him where Xu was looking. If he knew more, Xu had no reason to tell him what Qing’er had found.

The man waited for another question.

None came.

"We done?" he asked.

"Yes."

He blinked. "That’s all?"

"You wanted to leave."

"I do."

Xu stepped aside. "Then leave."

The man lingered for a brief beat, eyeing the open way past Xu. Then he muttered something Xu didn’t catch and walked into the crowd.

Feng didn’t follow.

Neither did Xu.

The green sash moved between blue robes, disappeared behind a family near the food stalls, and was gone.

Feng watched the crowd a moment longer. "You believe him?"

"About wanting the easier bracket."

"Mm. Me too."

Xu looked at her.

Her mouth tilted. "I’d avoid you too, Tianlong. You’re unpleasant competition."

"You don’t avoid me."

"I have other weaknesses."

A laugh slipped out of him.

Feng’s expression softened, but only for a moment. Her eyes went back to the concourse. "So. Someone paid him."

"Yes."

"And he can’t tell us who."

"Or won’t."

Feng watched the place where the green sash had vanished. Around them, the people who had been listening were already drifting back to their own arguments and match lines.

"Annoying."

"You sound disappointed."

"I spent time finding him." Feng clicked her tongue. "I wanted a better return."

Xu glanced toward the bracket board. Names, lanes, match lines. Anyone could stand there and read them. Someone had still paid another man to do it.

"He gave us something."

"Not much at all."

Xu turned his attention back to the concourse.

A boy carrying cups hurried past the edge of the awning and almost clipped an older cultivator. The older man caught the tray before it tipped, scolded him anyway, then waved him off.

As the small commotion cleared, Xu got a clean view toward the staff passage.

Someone in an Azure tournament robe was coming straight toward him.

"Xu Tianlong?"

Xu turned fully.

The clerk stopped outside the thickest part of the crowd. Xu hadn’t seen him at the Medicine Hall desk. His robe was neat, his eyes tired, and his breathing was still a little quick.

"Yes."

"Good." The clerk exhaled. "I’ve been trying to find you. An official objection has been filed against your guest entry."

Feng’s attention sharpened beside Xu.

"An objection?" Xu asked.

"To your eligibility to remain in the tournament as a guest entrant."

Xu looked back at the board. His name was still there among the match lines.

"Who filed it?"

"I wasn’t given a name."

"On what grounds?"

The clerk grimaced. "Wasn’t given that either. I was told to find you and make sure you knew it had been entered. That’s the whole message."

Xu studied him. The clerk looked irritated, but not evasive.

"Where do I get the rest?"

The clerk turned his head toward the tournament-office passage.

Xu followed his gaze.