“Come out for your meal, if you’re late there won’t be any left!” a guard called out from outside. “Quick! Come out and get your food.”

In an instant, the noise outside grew even livelier.

In a corner, a tall but not particularly burly man pulled open the tent flap and stepped out.

“Qian Er, three portions.” The man’s voice was clearly deliberately suppressed.

“No portion limits today, take whatever you want.” The guard waved a hand.

“The Master said the back mountain has too many people, it’s hard to control, and there’s no time to waste on useless people.”

“Starting today, all the rules for the back mountain zone have changed.”

“Take as much food as you want — it’s only good for a meal or two anyway. Once you’ve got your food, come draw lots.”

“Everyone present has been assigned. Today you’ll be split into four groups, and it’ll all be conducted as group brawls.”

“In each group, the last five people still standing in the arena can advance to the next zone.”

“Come on, come on, those without a lot drawn can’t go on — don’t forget!”

Qiao Mu, disguised as a man, took two portions of wild vegetables and grabbed a bag of buns before returning to the tent.

Inside the tent, Jian Yi and Feng Jiu’er sat facing each other, waiting for the one who had gone out to return.

Qiao Mu set the wild vegetables down in the middle, and put down the buns.

Jian Yi turned and picked up the cloth bag.

He pulled a box out from the bag, opened it, and set it in the center.

“Is that all, three chicken legs?” Qiao Mu, dressed to look like a man in his thirties or forties, frowned.

“Jiu’er said it’s fine.” Dark-skinned Jian Yi picked up a chicken leg and held it out in front of Feng Jiu’er.

Feng Jiu’er, her skin likewise darkened, small and thin in frame, dressed in an ill-fitting coarse linen coat, her head wrapped in linen cloth, took the chicken leg and bit into it.

“That’s plenty.”

“True enough.” Qiao Mu nodded, holding three bamboo lots in her hand. “They said outside that the competition rules changed starting today, mainly group brawls now.”

“I’ve got three lots here — one for the first round, two for the second round. I’ll go first.”

Qiao Mu divided the lots in her hand, giving one each to Jian Yi and Feng Jiu’er.

Qiao Mu’s appearance today was much like Feng Jiu’er’s and Jian Yi’s — all of them looked like simple, honest commoners.

The three of them, posing as brothers, claimed to come from another distant town, here this time for the position of Thunder King.

To be precise, everyone who came here was here for the sake of becoming a Thunder King.

Feng Jiu’er and Jian Yi took their lots without a word and continued eating.

Without any surprise, the three of them were certain to stand out today.

Qiao Mu entered the wooden cabin zone ahead of time, waiting for the other two to catch up.

Feng Jiu’er never raised a hand from start to finish, and Jian Yi kept his abilities concealed the whole time too.

Among this batch of people, few truly understood martial arts, so holding out to the end posed no problem at all.

Feng Jiu’er never had to fight — Jian Yi was the one protecting her the whole time, and no one else even got the chance to touch her.

Before the midday meal, the three of them gathered together again.

The cabin wasn’t large; Qiao Mu spent a little money to secure a room for three.

When the midday meal began, people came out of the rows of cabins and gathered around the courtyard in the middle.

The food here was considerably better; there were roasted sheep on both sides, and you could carve off as much as you wanted without anyone saying a thing.

Those who made it into the wooden cabin zone all had decent martial arts skills; at this inn, those with good skills earned respect.

“You, kid, you’re eating mutton too?” A guard, eyeing the person standing in front of the roasted sheep, strode over in a few steps.

Feng Jiu’er had just taken the mutton Jian Yi handed her, and as she looked up, her eyes met the guard’s.

“Why shouldn’t I?” She glanced at the guard, her gaze indifferent.

Seeing this, Jian Yi set down the short knife he was using to cut meat and stepped in front of Feng Jiu’er to shield her.

“Look at you, the only reason you got in at all is because of your eldest brother, isn’t it?” The guard, unable to see past Jian Yi to Feng Jiu’er, still spoke with contempt.

“Of the ten people who came in this morning, you have the weakest martial arts by far.”

“No skill, and looking like that on top of it, yet you still dare come out and make a fool of yourself — you really don’t know your own place!” the guard snorted coldly and drew his sword.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Qiao Mu, seeing this, stormed over with a fierce air.

Seeing Qiao Mu, the strongest fighter from the first round, the guard’s attitude softened slightly.

The Master valued talent, and the guards didn’t dare offend anyone capable.

“Nothing.” He glanced at Feng Jiu’er, who had stepped out from behind Jian Yi, then used his sword to hack off a piece of meat.

“You only got in today because you got lucky!”

“Every match from here on out depends on your own ability — don’t think having two capable older brothers makes you anything special!”

The guard shook his head in disdain, picked up a piece of mutton, and turned to walk away.

“Right, someone who clearly couldn’t fight off a chicken, yet gets to eat and live alongside us — it’s infuriating to look at!”

Not far away, a man set down the basin in his hands and sat down to eat.

“Exactly!” another man said scornfully. “If it weren’t for that extra useless one, Young Yang would definitely have gotten in.”

“Everything was fine, and now who knows why they changed the rules — just giving these people an unfair advantage!”

“What can be done about it?” the man beside him sighed silently. “We can only blame Young Yang’s bad luck.”

“Let’s go.” Feng Jiu’er, carrying her mutton, walked off toward the other side.

She had known from the start that never lifting a hand would surely draw criticism.

So now, being mocked felt perfectly natural to Feng Jiu’er.

Jian Yi and Qiao Mu followed Feng Jiu’er and sat down at a nearby table.

Yet unexpectedly, more bored people came over to bother them.

“Kid, you got the guts for a match?” A burly man sat down beside Qiao Mu, looking across at Feng Jiu’er.

Jian Yi started to rise, but Feng Jiu’er placed a hand on his arm.

She looked at the man who had spoken, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t wait to get onto the arena, can you?”

“Even on the arena, I might not get matched with you. Anyway, I’ve got nothing better to do today, and my fists are itching for a fight.” the man said.

“Boss Yang, you’re just sulking because Young Yang couldn’t get in, aren’t you?” Another man sat down not far from them.

“And so what if I am?” Boss Yang glanced at the man.

He was the very elder brother of Young Yang, the one others had just mentioned as having been eliminated.

Boss Yang’s gaze landed on Feng Jiu’er.

“I’m advancing to the next zone today. Fight me — if you win, I’ll give up my spot to you!”

“But if you lose, you get out of here and have a proper fight with my brother!”

“Is that so?” Feng Jiu’er looked at Boss Yang, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. “Don’t tell me you’re the one who decides things around here?”

“Of course.” Boss Yang lifted his chin and puffed out his chest. “I’m the strongest fighter in this whole batch.”

“The Master values people like me. Whatever I say, goes!”

As soon as he finished speaking, Boss Yang stood up.

“Wait just a moment, and I’ll show you that here, I’m the one in charge!”

With that, Boss Yang walked off.

Hearing the commotion, quite a few people gathered around.

Feng Jiu’er, however, acted as if nothing had happened at all, picking up a piece of meat and taking a small bite.

Seeing her shake her head, Qiao Mu handed her a sweet potato instead.

“Eat up, don’t be so picky.”