Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter Sixty-Five: The First Round Concludes

As Chen Chang’an’s clear voice echoed atop the peak and drifted down the slope, all the copper coins hidden in Song Jiu’s shoulder bundle, as well as those the others hadn’t yet managed to pocket, rose into the air, arranging themselves in a line and flying toward him.

Within the dense forest below, more coins floated up, surging in a flurry in his direction.

The combined waves of coins amounted to six thousand in total, a grand and sweeping tide that blotted out the sky, converging overhead.

The secret technique he’d obtained that night at the Perfumed Courtyard had explained the matter clearly: the Spirit-Gathering Art could draw upon the spiritual energy of all things, so manifesting such a spectacle was not difficult, provided he didn’t extract the coins’ essence but merely controlled and guided them gently.

In truth, it was thanks to Song Jiu’s earlier remark that he’d been reminded to do this.

Unfortunately, with his current cultivation still low, even exerting the Peach Blossom Secret Art at full strength, six thousand coins was his absolute limit—he could not summon more.

Otherwise, the twenty thousand coins would all have fallen into his hands.

As the mass of coins gathered overhead, blocking out the sunlight, shadows vanished from the ground, rendering the Fixed Shadow technique useless.

Yet none moved; they all stood transfixed, gazing up in disbelief at the vast sea of coins, each doubting their own eyes.

How had Chen Chang’an accomplished this? It was common knowledge that a martial artist could only control nearby objects in two ways: through a special origin art, or by leaving their own aura on the item in advance.

He had only just broken through to the Body Training Realm, so it was impossible for him to rely on origin arts, and the latter was equally untenable.

The coins had been kept under official guard before being scattered on Qinghua Mountain—how could they possibly bear his aura? Was he, perhaps, the son of a Black-clad Guard?

Song Jiu refused to accept it. Sword in hand, he pointed at Chen Chang’an, “Whatever means you used, don’t think you’ll take first place in today’s trial from me.”

With a fierce roar, he unleashed his inner power, energy swirling about him.

At the same moment, the clear note of a sword rang out—a pale pink blade hovered before Chen Chang’an as Ruan Jingchu, free from the Fixed Shadow, stepped forward. “None of us have shadows now; your origin art is useless.”

“And even if you could use it, you wouldn’t catch us off guard a second time.”

Chen Chang’an grinned mischievously. “Little Song, you can choose to fight our Sister Ruan to the death, but beware of others seizing the advantage. Even if you snatch them away, with a single call the coins will obediently return to me!”

“If you’re wise, you’d better go look elsewhere in the woods. I can only summon about six thousand coins—there are over fourteen thousand left waiting to be found.”

“Damn it!” Song Jiu ground his teeth in frustration, but he had no choice—Chen Chang’an’s words struck home. The Fixed Shadow could not surprise them again, and fighting head-on risked someone else making off with the prize.

The smartest move was to gather as many of the remaining coins as possible, but no matter the effort, no group could surpass six thousand; the top spot in this first trial was firmly in Chen Chang’an’s hands.

“Damn it, just how did he do it?” Song Jiu muttered, glaring at his teammates. “Useless fools, go search, now!”

With that, he stormed off into the forest, the rest following in quick succession. Having experienced the sensation of coins leaping from their pouches and flying away, they all agreed there was little point in contending with Chen Chang’an.

Before leaving, Liu Yingfeng gave a thumbs-up. “Impressive as always, Brother Chang’an.”

Ye Lin puffed out his chest, boasting to his three teammates, “I know Chen Chang’an—we’re good friends!”

The three instantly brightened, beaming with delight.

Ye Lin swaggered over, calling out, “Brother Chen, can you spare a few thousand coins for me too?”

Chen Chang’an, mindful of their friendship, replied, “Find them yourself.”

Ye Lin was left speechless, his teammates instantly crestfallen.

He was about to persist when he noticed Ruan Jingchu nearby and immediately straightened, putting on airs. “Hmph, I was only joking! Do you think Ye Lin is the type to profit without effort?”

“Chen Chang’an, I’ll be off, then!”

With a flourish, Ye Lin departed.

Chen Chang’an paid him no mind, instead turning to Ruan Jingchu, Wen Jin, and Lan Yingxue. “Come and rest. No matter how hard they search, no group will surpass six thousand coins—we have this in the bag.”

The three women nodded with radiant smiles. Ruan Jingchu asked curiously, “How did you do it?”

Chen Chang’an winked, adopting a playful tone. “It’s a secret. If you promise yourself to me, I’ll tell you.”

Ruan Jingchu rolled her eyes expressively and left him to chat with Wen Jin and Lan Yingxue.

Chen Chang’an couldn’t help but laugh boorishly.

After an indeterminate time, two Black-clad Guards rode the wind above Qinghua Mountain, announcing the end of the trial and supervising the more than five thousand contestants—one thousand three hundred and forty groups—ordering them to stop searching or fighting and return to Wuyi Alley by the original route.

Upon seeing the vast sea of coins drifting above the highest peak, the two officers were so astonished they nearly lost their footing in midair.

…

At the entrance to Wuyi Alley, Cao Wu, having finished her tea in the watchtower, appeared before the assembled crowd alongside Cheng Mulong, supervising the trial’s close.

Watching the groups return in succession, she instructed her maid, Cai’er, “Take people to count the coins each group collected.”

“Yes!” Cai’er curtsied and hurried off.

Cheng Mulong scanned the crowd, muttering, “Where’s your chosen one, Chen Chang’an? Don’t tell me he dragged his group down with him and ended up with nothing.”

“That can’t be—their group includes Ruan Jingchu, who’s a fourth-rank Mountain-Opening Realm, and the niece of Wulin Alliance Leader Zhou Yao. No matter how much he hinders them, they shouldn’t come in last.”

Cao Wu’s eyes flickered. “Do you have so little confidence in the one I’ve chosen?”

“No, no!” Cheng Mulong waved his hands, voice rising. “It’s just that Chen Chang’an is an ordinary man—maybe clever, but only in investigations. I’m just being objective.”

Cao Wu smiled faintly. “He’s not ordinary anymore. Didn’t you notice he’s already broken through to the Body Training Realm?”

“What’s so impressive about that?” Cheng Mulong scoffed.

Cao Wu gently reminded him, “Half a month ago, when I brought him back from Mao Ji’s workshop, he was still not even a martial artist.”

This succinct comment made Cheng Mulong’s heart tighten. That’s right—on that night, Chen Chang’an was just a regular man. In other words, he’d broken through in only half a month?

Even the most talented Body Training prodigies needed at least three months.

Of course, those in the know realized it had, in fact, taken him only one night.

A nervous cough escaped Cheng Mulong. “Breaking through could be a fluke. What matters is his performance in this trial.”

He had barely finished speaking when, a hundred yards away, Chen Chang’an appeared with a mass of coins floating above his head, striding toward the entrance of Wuyi Alley with three young women at his side.

As deputy commander, Cheng Mulong was dumbfounded, his mouth twitching. “What…what is this…”

He couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. Others arrived with small bags of coins; this man reported in with layer upon layer floating above him, as though he fancied himself a money leopard.

The Black-clad Guards were stunned, especially the veterans who’d been through several years and many trials—they’d seen all sorts of oddities, but never anything like this.

“Look at that, coins floating above his head! How did he do that?”

“Is he the God of Wealth in disguise? Oh, how I wish I could be him—I’m so poor!”

“So handsome! I want to marry him!”

Nearby spectators shouted excitedly, while the other martial artists, also taking part in the trial, could only gnash their teeth in envy and jealousy.

Cao Wu’s bright eyes reflected Chen Chang’an’s figure, her lips curving in a rare smile. “Not bad…not bad at all.”

Finally, after Cai’er finished the count, the trial results were announced:

“First place: Group 1314—members Chen Chang’an, Ruan Jingchu, Wen Jin, Lan Yingxue—with a total of 6,237 coins.

Second place: Group 999—members Song Jiu, Wang Dahu, Zhang Zhihe, Yang Quan—with 655 coins.

Third place: Group 1111—members Ye Lin, Zhang Chui, Su Yu, Yang Mei—with 333 coins.

Fourth place…”

“Fifth place…”

“Sixth place…”

And so on, down the list.

With so many participants, the announcements continued until the sun had dipped to a golden sliver on the horizon. By the end, the throat of the Black-clad Guard reading the results was raw with pain.

Cheng Mulong stepped forward and declared, “Tomorrow, at the third quarter past the hour of the dragon, all those ranked in the top five hundred, including the five hundredth, are to return here for the second trial. The rest may go home, or enjoy a few days in Chang’an at your leisure.”

Some were happy, others disappointed. Song Jiu, secure in second place, remained grim—Chen Chang’an had nearly ten times his coins, an embarrassing gap.

His narrow eyes fixed on Chen Chang’an, and he hissed, “Next time, I won’t lose to you.”

“Quiet, quiet!” Cheng Mulong signaled for silence, suppressing the mixed emotions of over five thousand martial artists. “The first trial is over—go and rest.”

Chen Chang’an cupped his hands to Wen Jin, Lan Yingxue, and Ruan Jingchu. “Ladies, I’m a Chang’an native. It’s nearly evening—why not come to my house for dinner?”

Wen Jin shook her head gently.

Lan Yingxue waved him off. “No need, thank you, Young Master Chen.”

Ruan Jingchu also declined politely. “Your kindness is appreciated, Young Master Chen, but we wouldn’t trouble you.”

At that moment, Ye Lin hurried over and greeted them. Then, turning to Ruan Jingchu, he blurted, “Miss Ruan, I…well…the 300-odd coins I collected don’t reflect my true strength. I could have collected more.”

“There was just a little mishap.”

Is he a fool, telling me this? Ruan Jingchu thought to herself, but outwardly she smiled. “Of course, Lord Ye, as a high official in the Ministry of Justice, you’re surely capable.”

“And to serve in the Ministry and still participate in the Black-clad Guard’s trial—that’s more dedication than most.”

Ye Lin’s forehead darkened with frustration. The Ministry of Justice, Lord Ye—she just wouldn’t let it go.

Chen Chang’an pinched his thigh to keep from laughing.

Ye Lin forced a grin, then shot Chen Chang’an a look. “You’re a local, aren’t you going to invite me to your house for a meal?”

Chen Chang’an nodded. “Yes, the weather’s been hot, best to prevent heatstroke by eating more melons!”

Ye Lin’s eyes widened. “I mean, as a local, shouldn’t you invite me for dinner as a host?”

Chen Chang’an raised his voice. “What? My clothes are dirty—do you have a clean set I could change into?”

“You—!” Ye Lin nearly drew his sword, but with Ruan Jingchu present, he restrained himself and said with forced dignity, “I have business at the Ministry of Justice. I’ll take my leave!”

Once again, he mentioned the Ministry, subconsciously wanting to impress Miss Ruan.

Chen Chang’an casually pointed, “Hey, hey, wrong way—the Ministry is that way.”

Ye Lin was so exasperated he couldn’t speak, but went in the indicated direction.

Ruan Jingchu, Wen Jin, and Lan Yingxue each left as well.

Chen Chang’an instinctively reached for his pockets, only to remember he had none, so he whistled and prepared to return home to his mother—or rather, his future mother-in-law.

Unexpectedly, after just a few steps, Cao Wu’s voice sounded in his ear: “Come to Watchtower Three in Wuyi Alley. I have something for you.”