Chapter 4808 — The Campus Belle's Close-Range Bodyguard

A stir ran through the crowd below the stage. For the first time, astonishment broke across Leng Rufeng's face; looking at Wei Zhao, whose fighting spirit surged like a tide, he could not help but draw a sharp breath. Only half a month had passed, and this brat had already grown terrifyingly strong!

"Again!" Wei Zhao cried, eager for more, brimming with anticipation. For a full half month, this was the first time he had ever fought Leng Rufeng head-on to a standstill.

A shockwave rippled through the spectators.

He knew, of course, that this did not mean their strengths were truly equal. The other man's condition had been drained to the dregs long before; at full strength, he would still have been pressed and pummeled. Even so, this was still a tremendous and heartening advance.

The crowd erupted once more.

Anyone suddenly fought to a draw by an opponent he had been crushing would find it hard to accept, let alone a proud, lofty figure like Leng Rufeng. Everyone knew the man was bound to bare his fangs and fight for his life.

The tension hung thick in the air.

Wei Zhao was waiting impatiently, but a single sentence from Leng Rufeng froze him where he stood, and the whole arena broke into an uproar: "No more. I concede."

A hush fell over the watching throng.

"What?!" Wei Zhao stared at him, utterly astonished, wondering whether the man was joking. By any measure, this was not the sort of person who would ever surrender of his own accord—and besides, a moment ago it had been a draw at most. Fight on, and who knew which way victory would fall!

Murmurs swept through the crowd.

Leng Rufeng said nothing. He turned and swept his gaze over the crowd that had turned into a boiling cauldron, and at last his eyes came to rest on Yang Qianshuang at the edge of the platform. With an apologetic look, he shook his head.

Yang Qianshuang's expression flickered.

It was not that he did not want to fight on. In truth, he did not believe he would lose to Wei Zhao at all—at the very worst, he could drag them both down in mutual ruin. But what then?

He knew the stakes all too well.

Unlike Wei Zhao, a newcomer, he had enemies everywhere here. Foes with backing and real strength—men like Ren Zhongyuan and Yi Xiaotian—were beyond counting. After all, the title of Cold-Faced Blade God had not come to him for nothing; every victory meant one more enemy. Once he had lost the strength to protect himself, any one of them could easily put him to death.

Pride he had, but he was no fool.

Leng Rufeng was proud, but he was not stupid. He knew exactly when to advance and when to retreat; otherwise, no matter how strong he was, he could never have risen to prominence in a place like this.

Wei Zhao studied his expression for a while.

After studying Leng Rufeng's expression closely, Wei Zhao finally confirmed that the man was not joking. He thought it over and said, "All right, then. The stakes we agreed on earlier—no problem there?"

Leng Rufeng met his gaze in silence.

Leng Rufeng gave him a long, deep look. Though some reluctance lingered in his heart, he nodded in assent. Of course he had no wish now to serve as anyone's bodyguard, but he had agreed beforehand—he could hardly go back on his word at this point, could he?

A murmur ran through the crowd.

"Good." Wei Zhao broke into a smile at once, and seeing the other's grave expression, he added, "Don't worry. You only lost and became my Feifei's bodyguard, but I won't treat you badly. There will be payment."

Leng Rufeng's brows lifted slightly.

"Payment?" Leng Rufeng blinked. Though he did not show it too plainly, a trace of disdain was unavoidable in his brow. At his level, a few spirit jades were hardly worth a glance—unless the other party could offer a sky-high price of several hundred thousand.

The crowd held its breath.

"I'll give you a Beauty Pill, and on top of that, a Thunder Mystery Pill. That should settle it, no? No other conditions—just protect Feifei well for me at the academy from now on, and don't let fools like Ren Zhongyuan harass her," Wei Zhao said calmly.

The arena fell silent for a beat.

At these words, the whole arena erupted once more. A grade-seven Beauty Pill plus a grade-seven Thunder Mystery Pill—wasn't that far too frightening a gesture? Worthy of the Western Isle's son-in-law indeed. Damn, what wealth and swagger!

Leng Rufeng was struck dumb.

Leng Rufeng stared at Wei Zhao, tongue-tied, and it was a long while before he managed to squeeze out a sentence: "If you'd said so earlier, why the hell would I have fought at all!"

He could hardly believe his ears.

He had worn himself out trading blows with Wei Zhao for half a month—all for the sake of the Beauty Pill and the Thunder Mystery Pill. Had he known surrendering would get him them too, why would he ever have gone to such trouble?!

Wei Zhao chuckled.

"Heh. If we hadn't fought a few good rounds, how would I know whether you're worth the price?" Wei Zhao laughed. In truth, he had simply gotten a taste for it and grown addicted; half a month of fighting Leng Rufeng had raised him two levels. From now on, he would have to spar often when he had the chance. Who knew, he might rise a few more levels yet.

Of course, that was only Wei Zhao's own fantasy.

Of course, this was only Wei Zhao's own fantasy. The reason he had been able to advance so quickly this time owed largely to the grave injuries he had suffered during the Western Isle trial. After a trip to the gates of hell and back, he had, in a sense, been reborn; add to that the mighty inheritance of the giant electric eel—though the power of lightning was of little use to him for the moment, it was more than enough to temper his flesh.

Day after day of injury had worn him down.

Moreover, wounded every single day for half a month, Wei Zhao had, apart from healing himself, taken no fewer than six Golden Pills of Gestation to replenish his vitality. With such immense medicinal power accumulated, breaking through and leveling up came as naturally as water flowing into a channel—after all, whatever else might be said, he was a perfect Nascent Soul.

A perfect Nascent Soul, no less.

"I'm dead tired. You're a real menace," Leng Rufeng said, shaking his head speechlessly with a strained smile. He was truly worn out in body and mind by Wei Zhao now; were it not for the crowd watching below, this Cold-Faced Blade God would have happily slumped down on the ground without a shred of dignity.

Still, it had been worth it.

Fortunately, the half month's hardship had not been in vain. With both the Beauty Pill and the Thunder Mystery Pill in hand, Yang Qianshuang's looks and strength now had every hope of returning to their former state. Cause for celebration indeed!

Below the stage, Ren Zhongyuan was seething.

The two onstage were both delighted, but below the stage, Ren Zhongyuan—just named by Wei Zhao—was truly beside himself with rage. Watching Leng Rufeng, the powerful piece he had pinned such hopes on, shake hands and make peace with Wei Zhao in public, he was dumbstruck. What the hell was going on?

He could not believe his eyes.

This was the formidable pawn he had spent a Beauty Pill and racked his brains to provoke into opposing Wei Zhao. Half a month of effort had not only failed to finish Wei Zhao off—how had the man instead become his bodyguard? The world was far too damn unpredictable!

His heart felt fit to burst.

Stung beyond endurance, Ren Zhongyuan felt as though his heart would explode. Absentmindedly circulating his true qi, he was seized by another agonizing spasm through his five viscera and six bowels; his vision went black and he collapsed on the spot. Yi Xiaotian and the others beside him were badly startled, and under the utterly baffled gazes of the onlookers, they had no choice but to drag Ren Zhongyuan away like a dead dog.