Chapter 103: The World Isn't Dark, It's Just Darker
"What… just happened?"
Ning Fengzhi and Sword Douluo arrived at the Clear Sky Hall and saw Tang Lie unconscious on the ground. The usually authoritative elders of the sect were now silent, and Tang Xiao stood off to the side.
Qian Xunji stood calmly before them, with a deep chasm carved into the stone floor beneath his feet, splitting nearly half the hall.
As for Tang Yuehua, who was gazing at Qian Xunji with infatuation, Ning Fengzhi didn't even acknowledge her presence.
"Nothing much. Elder Seven was a little too hot-headed, so I helped him cool off."
Qian Xunji turned back around, regaining his usual easygoing expression. "Sect Master Ning, Sword Douluo—I've got a fun little game in mind that takes three to play. Care to join me?"
Ning Fengzhi immediately felt a flicker of caution. "Your Holiness, what kind of game are we talking about?"
Qian Xunji smiled faintly. "Oh, it's nothing. Just a simple game called 'Fight the Landlord.'"
"Fight the Landlord?"
From a nearby pavilion, laughter and shouts rang out periodically.
Ten meters away, disciples from various sects looked over at the three adults sitting at a table—laughing, shouting, and clearly having far too much fun. They couldn't help but wonder: Are these guys drunk? Sleep-deprived?
But they hadn't even touched alcohol.
Qian Xunji (Landlord): "One King!"
Ning Fengzhi: "Two."
Qian Xunji / Sword Douluo: "Pass."
Seeing them pass, Ning Fengzhi's face lit up as he played a card. "Three."
Sword Douluo: "Eight."
Qian Xunji: "Joker."
"Three, four, five, six, seven."
Sword Douluo / Ning Fengzhi: "Pass."
"Pair of threes."
Tossing his final two cards, Qian Xunji grinned. "Sorry, Sect Master Ning, Sword Douluo—I win again. Time for your three-penalty drink."
Ning Fengzhi groaned as he drank. He had thought Qian Xunji passing on a 'two' meant Sword Douluo had a bomb. But no—Qian Xunji simply skipped, and Sword Douluo's low cards had no follow-through.
All four threes were in the hands of the peasants, and they still lost.
Sword Douluo was also annoyed. If only I hadn't held back those 'twos,' I could've beaten Qian Xunji's three-of-a-kind…
After two drinks, Ning Fengzhi asked, "Your Holiness, may I ask… how do you win nearly eight out of ten games as the dealer?"
He was baffled. Qian Xunji seemed like a prophet. At every critical moment, he always played the one card that broke the game wide open.
Sword Douluo was already level 96. Even if Qian Xunji had a power advantage, he shouldn't be this much better.
"I just like using my brain."
Qian Xunji, now shuffling the deck again, no longer had his usual playful tone. His eyes were sharp, like an entirely different person.
"Every card played can be counted."
"Counted?"
"Sect Master Ning, you should know—excluding the jokers, each card appears four times. In a two-player match, you basically know what's in your opponent's hand. That's why Fight the Landlord works best with three players. Calculating… really burns brain cells."
Qian Xunji was using his mind as a card counter. As soon as he said it, he smiled again and returned to his usual demeanor.
Ning Fengzhi fell deep into thought. There was profound meaning in Qian Xunji's seemingly casual words.
Qian Xunji looked out the window at the rising cooking smoke. "Ah, lunchtime already? Sect Master Ning, Sword Douluo—one more round?"
"No, thanks. If we keep going, I'll be too full of wine to eat," Ning Fengzhi said.
"Let's play a few more rounds this afternoon then."
Qian Xunji put away the cards and left the building.
Watching him leave, Ning Fengzhi's gaze grew increasingly serious.
"Fengzhi, what did he mean by that card analogy?" Sword Douluo asked.
"I think… that deck represents a power structure. Spirit Hall, Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect—we're all part of it. Jokers are us. Our disciples are the cards in our hands."
"When we make a move, we play our cards. Our enemies do the same."
Ning Fengzhi's tone turned grim. "Sword Uncle, the danger isn't from power without intelligence—or intelligence without power. The danger is someone with both."
"Calculating each move is exhausting. The Pope might not only stab us in the back—he might anticipate our every step. That's likely how Tang Lie got his arm broken."
He sighed. "Qian Xunji is terrifying. I've never met someone like him before. I don't know if I should call myself lucky or unlucky to live in the same era as him."
Ning Fengzhi believed he could read anyone—except Qian Xunji. He was like a cloud—shapeless, ever-changing.
No, there was one other type he couldn't understand: hopeless romantics. Like Bibi Dong. Or Liu Erlong, who left her clan to chase Yu Xiaogang across the continent—despite him being her cousin. That scandal almost destroyed the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan.
And when Yu Xiaogang started spreading his "Ten Core Competencies of Martial Souls," the soul master world erupted. Even though the theories were basic and flawed, the major clans were furious—not because he claimed credit, but because it empowered commoners.
They believed commoners should never rise. Not even a one-in-ten-thousand chance. They were to be exploited, enslaved, and used up—never elevated.
If one commoner clan rose, they'd eat into the nobles' pie. That alone was a path to death in the soul master world.
If Yu Xiaogang weren't Thunder Douluo's son, he'd have been dismembered long ago.
Faced with pressure from the soul master aristocracy, the Blue Lightning Clan had to erase Yu Xiaogang from their family records. But between Liu Erlong and Yu Xiaogang's drama, the clan—already the weakest of the Upper Three—fell even further.
Poor Yu Yuanzhen.
But Ning Fengzhi couldn't understand such madness. Was that loser worth it?
"Sect Master Ning, with me, Bone Douluo, and Chen around, what are you afraid of? With your skills, when have you ever left a trail?"
Sword Douluo knew enough about their covert actions.
"Loose lips sink ships. Just like Tang Lie."
"Qian Xunji alone is scary. Now they have the continent's top healer and controller—Silver Empress Douluo. And I'm only a Soul Saint. I can't out-support her."
"And their child, Qian Renxue—her talent is unmatched. Unless Gu Chen masters his twin martial souls, he won't stand a chance. And Qian Xunji has another son—who knows how gifted he'll be."
Ning Fengzhi was ready to lay low again. Even with Gu Chen, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect would avoid offending Spirit Hall for the next century.
If things got bad, he had one final card to play: Ning Rongrong, who was the same age as Qian Renchuan.
Even if her awakened martial soul was spider-type, Qian Xunji would understand—because they were both rulers of darkness. And rulers know how to protect what matters.
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