Chapter 11: Fame in a Single Battle

In life, there are always such moments.
Those once overlooked, dismissed, treated as nothing more than background—suddenly, they stand in the center of the world’s gaze.

Not because they grew taller or stronger overnight, but because everyone else had been blind from the very beginning.

And this moment was the perfect example.

Almost everyone thought Luo Jiutian would lose, perhaps even die.
Instead—he won.

Without so much as a scratch.

The entire audience was struck dumb. No matter how they tried, no words could capture their shock.

【Ding! Host has successfully gravely injured the Child of Destiny ‘Luo Chen.’ Luck Value is automatically being converted…】
【Current countdown to Blue Star’s Return: 296 years, 6 months.】
【4 years deducted. Remaining time: 292 years, 6 months.】

Luo Jiutian ignored the stunned stares.
He simply dragged Luo Chen like a dead dog and flung him to the edge of the arena platform.

The dull thud of his body hitting the ground rang harshly in the silence.

“Chen’er!”

Luo Changqing was the first to react. He rushed onto the stage, supporting Luo Chen and probing his condition with spiritual sense.

Luo Chen’s chest was soaked with blood, the wound running from shoulder to torso, sliced open directly by sword energy. Fortunately, he still clung to a single breath—life barely hanging on.

Blue veins bulged across Luo Changqing’s forehead as he forcefully suppressed his fury. He raised his head and glared at Luo Jiutian, voice cold as ice.

“No matter what, he is still of your bloodline. How dare you strike with such cruelty?”

Several elders seated on the high platform quickly chimed in:

“That’s right, Luo Jiutian. Do you not understand restraint?”

“Even in sparring, one must show mercy! Luo Chen is the family’s future pillar!”

“Indeed! No matter the grudge, you should never have struck so ruthlessly!”

At those words, Luo Jiutian, who had been examining the spear in his hand, suddenly let out a short laugh.

He slowly lifted his head, meeting Luo Changqing’s gaze before sweeping over the elders who had scolded him.

One by one, their righteous tones withered beneath his eyes.

Only when quiet returned did Luo Jiutian withdraw his gaze.

He planted the spear into the ground with a clang, his voice steady and resonant:

“Everyone here saw it clearly. It was Luo Chen who first struck with killing intent.”

He strode step by step to the center of the platform.

“If that spear had landed, I would already be a corpse.”

His eyes swept across the audience, his voice rising with passion:

“He provoked me. I stood and fought him head-on. I won. And now I’m the villain?
Would you rather I had stood still, let him cut me down, just so I could ‘know my place’?”

Among the clan disciples, expressions grew complicated. Some lowered their heads, some clenched their jaws, some nodded slightly—swayed by his words.

Luo Jiutian pressed on:

“He is the Young Master, so his life matters.
But me? Because I am not Young Master, does that mean I deserve to be beaten to death?

If so, why don’t you write the rules more clearly? State outright: only the Young Master may kill, everyone else must die without resistance!”

As his words fell, murmurs spread among the Luo clan disciples. Quiet whispers at first, but together they swelled into a tide.

“He’s… not wrong.”

“Indeed. Anyone would fight back. Who could just let themselves be slaughtered?”

Even some of Luo Chen’s staunchest supporters began to waver.

Luo Changqing’s brows knotted tightly. His lips parted, but no words came.

At that moment, Luo Jiutian raised his hand and tossed Luo Chen’s long spear.

It arced through the air and landed heavily at Luo Changqing’s feet with a resounding thunk.

“Since you all dislike me so much, I’ll leave.”

He turned, back to the crowd, words brief and sharp:

“The world is vast—surely there is a place where I can stand.”

He had just begun to walk when a voice called out behind him:

“Wait.”

Luo Jiutian halted, glancing back.

Luo Changqing drew a deep breath and lowered his head.
“Today’s matter… is my failing.

Within the clan, we should stand as one. Chen’er erred first, and you only defended yourself. It is my poor discipline that caused you such grievance.”

The crowd erupted in shock.

Who would have thought—the head of the Luo clan himself would bow and apologize to a mere youth in front of everyone?

At Luo Changqing’s words, Luo Jiutian’s lips curved faintly.

As expected of a clan head.

In an instant, he had weighed the scales and made his decision. Shrewd indeed.

Of course, Luo Jiutian had never truly intended to leave the Luo clan. Not yet.

Luo Chen was still alive, still carrying an ocean of Luck Value. How could he possibly let such a fat sheep escape?

From the very beginning, he had taken this battle with a clear purpose.

First, to harvest Luck Value.
Second, to establish authority and deter future challengers—strike once with overwhelming force so that a hundred fists never dare follow.
And third, to turn Luo Chen into the center of scrutiny, putting the so-called ‘new Young Master’ over the fire.

With that, surely no one would dare test him again for some time.

A complete victory.

Now that Luo Changqing had lowered himself, it was only right for Luo Jiutian to give him a step down.

He withdrew his oppressive aura and replied calmly: “Since the Clan Head himself has spoken, how could I as junior continue to dwell on it?
Let today’s matter be set aside.”

His words showed deference while giving the clan head face.

Luo Changqing inclined his head slightly, calm restored. He gestured for several stewards, who quickly carried the gravely wounded Luo Chen away.

Luo Jiutian spared him not even a glance as he strode off the stage.

Wherever he passed, the crowd instinctively stepped back half a pace, opening a path for him.

At the edge of the crowd, two familiar figures rushed toward him.

Su Wan’er darted up first.
“Ninth Heaven brother, you’re not hurt, are you?”

Her words were filled with concern, but her hands roamed all over him without restraint.

The corner of Luo Jiutian’s mouth twitched. He seized her wrist and yanked her wandering hand away.
“What are you doing?”

“Aiya~ I was just checking for injuries, wasn’t I?”

“I don’t know if I was hurt before, but if you keep groping, I really will be.”

Su Wan’er pouted, about to lean in again—only to be interrupted by a gentle voice.
“Wan’er, you really are attentive.”

Luo Yunlan had walked up, her gaze warm as it swept briefly over Jiutian before resting on Su Wan’er’s hand.

Su Wan’er lifted her chin proudly.
“Of course! After all, the Ninth Heaven brother is my husband.”

Luo Jiutian opened his mouth, but Su Wan’er cut him off, quickly adding:
“And besides… he didn’t refuse just now. He let me touch him from head to toe.”

“…I did refuse.” Jiutian’s smile was all teeth.

Su Wan’er blinked innocently.
“Did you?”

“Yes.” He ground the word out.

Luo Yunlan gave a quiet laugh, offering no comment, and merely stood on Jiutian’s other side, gently smoothing his sleeve.

And just like that, one girl on the left, the other on the right—once again, Luo Jiutian found himself trapped in between.

He flexed his arms but did not shake them off. Yunlan clung too firmly, Su Wan’er pressed too close—almost as if the two had planned it together.

With a helpless sigh, he shut his mouth and let them flank him, the three of them walking out of the arena together.