Dormitory Strife

The black command token bought from Senior Sister Cuiyue actually belonged to Fang Buwei.

As Su Qing walked with them, she gained a new understanding of this Night Arena.

The internal area’s sixteen streets corresponded to sixteen arenas.

If one didn’t want to fight their way up arena by arena, they needed the arena master’s permission to pass.

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Coincidentally, the arena master for Arena Eleven, where Tian Ning was scheduled to fight today, was none other than Fang Buwei.

Although Fang Buwei didn’t appear particularly strong during the midterm exam, being easily subdued by a mere first-year Su Qing, and his extremely difficult-to-cultivate puppet techniques seemed somewhat redundant in both duels and group battles, in terms of arena defense, he was genuinely troublesome.

Moreover, Xiaocao was still researching “immortal puppets” with Fang Buwei, which presumably involved combining the regeneration of plants with metal, allowing the puppet body to heal even if damaged, hence the name “immortal.” Just hearing the name made it sound difficult to deal with.

But! The thought of Xiaocao, who was always solitary, actively doing group assignments with someone else, and a senior brother at that, gave Su Qing a strange sense of comfort.

It seemed that having realized the inconvenience of managing a hundred puppets, the previously silent street became bustling again.

The people on the street shed their eerie, non-human feel and resumed their old routines: some tended stalls, some inquired about items and haggled, some strolled leisurely, while the stick insect and the bearded man continued their chase, repeating the same act.

All the varied aspects of life were condensed into this small street.

Only a short, sturdy little girl emerged from the crowd.

She had a blade of grass on her head, like a white radish freshly pulled from the ground.

She blinked with a cheerful smile, her voice soft, “Sister, come with Xiaoman, okay? Xiaoman will take you to the arena. You’ll buy Xiaoman candied hawthorn, okay?”

The little girl tilted her face up, her eyes black and bright, her small face plump and tender-looking, no different from a human child. But clearly, she was also one of the puppets in Fang Buwei’s hands.

The thought that Fang Buwei’s consciousness was actually encased within her shell, coupled with the sight of the diverse men, women, and children on the street, made Su Qing strongly feel that to master puppet techniques, one needed not only a thorough understanding of humans but also the ability to be a split personality.

Who would have thought that Fang Buwei, as cold as a puppet himself, would have so many puppet clones?

Xiaoman talked a lot, beckoning Su Qing to follow and chattering away with introductions.

“My dad says the sixteen arenas in the Night Arena all have different rules. Only Arena Eleven allows multiple-on-multiple fights! Oh, and everyone is so obsessed with the arenas because there’s a rumor that if you challenge all sixteen arenas in one go, you get something good. But Xiaoman says, arena fights are too dangerous, with all the bleeding and broken bones. It’s super scary and not fun at all, so kids shouldn’t participate.”

“Oh, right, have you two seen the arena fights here? They don’t care about falling off the stage or not. As long as you knock your opponent down within the arena area, or they surrender, you win!”
The little girl walked forward, kicking and shuffling, mumbling to herself. When she reached the end of Eleventh Street, Su Qing noticed there was another teleportation array there.

“Once you enter the teleportation array, two elder sisters can go to the arena backstage.” The little girl smacked her lips. “Although the food there tastes good, it’s three times more expensive than outside. My dad is really stingy; he only bought it for me once.”
Playing it so real, Tang Yueling asked, “Child, how old are you?”

The little girl held up a hand and said loudly, “I’m six years old!”

As she spoke, her missing teeth showed.

Tang Yueling touched her hair bun with interest. “Interesting. How about this, older sister buys you candy, will you come with us?”
Only Fang Buwei was particularly disheartening; his uninflected voice echoed down the street, “There’s still a quarter of an hour until the arena match begins. If you don’t want to go, you can delay as much as you like.”

Speaking of which, Su Qing still hadn’t found his true body. Puppet techniques in reality were truly cheating.

Although Fang Buwei’s words were disheartening, time was indeed pressing.

She and Tang Yueling no longer delayed, using the command token to enter the arena’s backstage.

Su Qing’s vision blurred, and the scene before her changed again. She found herself in a transparent small room.

The room wasn’t large, but it was entirely transparent, allowing a clear view of the outside.

A giant circular arena, a hundred meters in diameter, with circles of seats surrounding it, rising from low to high. The higher the seats, the better the view.

The seats in different areas also had different colors, likely corresponding to different prices.
This was clearly the audience area.

At this time, with only half a quarter of an hour left until the arena match, the seating area was mostly filled.

There were many people, ninety percent occupied, presumably there to see the super newcomer who had emerged victorious from ten arenas consecutively.

Some children, whether real or puppets, pushed carts of chips, shuttling among the seats, inviting people to gamble.

There were also carts selling snacks, drinks, and other refreshments.

Su Qing’s vision was sharp; she could clearly see the menu on the carts—mostly spirit foods like melon seeds, dried fruits, and other dried goods. The prices were three times those outside, yet quite a few people were still buying.

‘Which genius came up with this business model?’

The thought of this person raking in immense profits made her incredibly envious.

A floating display stand appeared on the arena. Two people stood on it, adjusting equipment.

The equipment looked strange, but from the metal wires sticking out everywhere and the dish-sized microphone-like parts, Su Qing roughly understood that it should be a sound device.

Its effect, she guessed, was something like a modern microphone, or speakers.

There were two people on the display stand.

One was likely a senior brother from a higher year, with a face that looked somewhat unreliable.

The other, Su Qing actually recognized; it was clearly Ling Xiaorui, the loud-voiced first-year student.

She was solemnly patting the artifact refining equipment in front, probably for a sound check.

She casually complained, “What kind of equipment needs me to debug it? Why does the Artifact School only produce junk?”

These words provoked the anger of many Artifact School students in the audience.

Several of them stood up and shouted, “That’s because your spirit stones weren’t enough, cheap goods are never good goods!” This drew chuckles from others.

Ling Xiaorui didn’t mind. She grinned and announced loudly, “It’s no use telling me that, go tell the person in charge of the fighting arena!”
Su Qing silently observed, blinking. ‘They said the black market wasn’t open to first-year students…’

It seemed everyone had their own connections.

Ling Xiaorui had a fiery personality, a loud voice, and loved watching excitement, so this job, similar to a commentator, was indeed very suitable for her.

Seen this way, the Night Arena was not only a place for showing off ferocity and competing, but also a place for entertainment.

Therefore, arena matches emphasized fun. The characteristic of Arena Eleven was that it allowed multiple-on-multiple fights, with three to five people battling until only one remained.

It was said that other arenas included speed arenas, which involved moving while adapting to terrain and fighting, as well as treasure-snatching arenas, betting arenas, and other highly entertaining and competitive arena formats.

The specifics depended on how the arena master designed them.

This was Su Qing’s first time stepping into the Sword School’s night world.

To that extent, she was perhaps too “honest,” always focusing on cultivation, meditating and breathing at night.

Even when sleepless in the dead of night, she would go to the Sword Tomb to practice swordsmanship, completely unaware that there was such a fun place beneath the Sword School.

With a forceful smack, physically repairing the equipment, Ling Xiaorui announced loudly, “Here we go, here we go! Everyone, stop eating your melon seeds, rest your mouths for a bit, counting down a hundred numbers—let the arena begin!”

Su Qing watched as a row of numbers appeared at the top of the transparent room, starting from one hundred and rapidly changing: “Ninety-nine, ninety-eight…”

Tang Yueling looked up. “It seems we’re on once the countdown finishes.”

Su Qing had bought the qualification to participate in Arena Eleven from Senior Sister Cuiyue, which meant the right to face Tian Ning in a proper battle.

For so many years, the three of them had mostly walked side by side, rarely confronting each other with swords.

Even when they did spar, it was mainly for comprehension, stopping just short of serious injury.

Ultimately, they truly lacked a formal competition between them.

This was actually wrong, because Tang Yueling, Tian Ning, and she—all three of them were outstanding among the first-year students, companions but also rivals.

But there had never been a truly meaningful competition between them, simply because they were roommates, they were friends—this shouldn’t be.

One fact might be easily overlooked: Su Qing felt that every relationship had a power dynamic, not to say the emotions weren’t pure, nor to say who led whom, but rather that human interactions always had a subtle balance.

An imbalance of power would indeed cause them to drift apart, growing more distant.

If she, Su Qing, and Tang Yueling truly wanted to support Tian Ning, to touch upon the unease and anxiety, the despair and shame within her heart, then they had to demonstrate their strength, proving that they were characters who could give her the courage to speak.

So, all things considered, it boiled down to one sentence: this fight absolutely had to happen, and it had to make Tian Ning concede wholeheartedly.

They had to think only of victory and seize that victory.

Su Qing, being a meticulous person, understood the reasons behind Tang Yueling’s anger towards Tian Ning.

Firstly, she was angry that Tian Ning was too hasty and quick, not taking care of herself. Secondly, she was angry at herself for not being able to make Tian Ning naturally express her inner thoughts.

This was partly due to Tian Ning’s personality, and partly because… Tian Ning was too strong, and they were too weak.

But Su Qing didn’t believe that if one person couldn’t beat her, two people couldn’t either?

If one person couldn’t be relied upon, then two people couldn’t be relied upon either?

The countdown above the room had already reached “thirty-three, thirty-two, thirty-one…”

Su Qing’s eyes deepened. She met Tang Yueling’s gaze, which was lighter, but extremely bright, as if burning with fervor. “To what extent can you go?”
In this battle, what are your limits?

Tang Yueling counter-asked, “And you?”

Su Qing pondered for a moment. Simultaneously, the anxious time flipped pages: “Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…”

She wasn’t someone who could instantly blurt out a promise, but she was someone who would strive to achieve what she had clearly thought through.

Therefore, in the already tense time, she spent an additional ten precious seconds in thought.

Tang Yueling knew her personality.

She and Su Qing had many differences, but she also had her pride, a pride that honored her word like gold.

“I think my bottom line is not to cause irreversible harm.” Su Qing gave her answer. “As for broken arms or legs, large holes in the chest, severed meridians, mangled flesh, or losing all her teeth from being beaten—those are all within my acceptable range.”

“Have some ambition, okay? We might not get beaten that badly.” Tang Yueling felt a little guilty as she said this. She lightly coughed, casting the guilt behind her.

The announcement outside sounded again, louder and more impassioned than before. “Last ten counts: ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!”

D

Tang Yueling put away the disdain in her eyes, revealing a heavy determination. “I am likewise.”

“Fellow Daoists, today is truly a momentous occasion, a dragon-tiger struggle! You are in for a treat—Arena Eleven, let the games begin!”