Chapter 11: Becoming Famous in One Battle
In life, there are moments.
Moments when those once overlooked, ignored, or treated as background figures suddenly stand before everyone.
Not because they’ve grown taller, but because people misjudged them from the start.
This was such a moment.
Almost everyone thought Luo Jiutian would lose, maybe even die.
Yet he won.
Not a scratch on him.
The crowd was speechless.
No words could capture their shock.
[Ding! Host has successfully dealt a heavy blow to Child of Destiny ‘Luo Chen,’ converting destiny points…]
[Current Earth return countdown: 296 years, 6 months.]
[Four years deducted. Remaining time: 292 years, 6 months.]
Luo Jiutian ignored the stunned gazes, tossing Luo Chen like a dead dog to the edge of the stage.
The dull thud echoed sharply in the silence.
“Chen!”
Luo Changqing, snapping back, rushed to the stage, lifting Luo Chen and probing his condition with divine sense.
Luo Chen’s chest was bloodied, a wound from shoulder to chest sliced by sword qi.
But he still had breath—his life was spared.
Luo Changqing’s forehead veins throbbed, barely containing his rage.
He glared at Luo Jiutian, voice icy: “No matter what, he’s your clansman. How dare you strike so ruthlessly!”
Elders on the platform chimed in:
“Luo Jiutian, don’t you know to stop at the right point?”
“Even in a spar, you show mercy. Luo Chen is the clan’s future pillar!”
“Exactly. Grudges or not, you shouldn’t have acted this way!”
Luo Jiutian, examining the spear, chuckled.
He looked up at Luo Changqing, then at his accusers.
Those who’d spoken so righteously fell silent under his gaze.
When the crowd quieted, Luo Jiutian looked away.
He planted the spear in the ground, his voice steady and resounding: “Everyone, you saw it clearly. It was Luo Chen who first harbored killing intent.”
He stepped forward, stopping at the stage’s center.
“That spear, if it had hit, would’ve made me a corpse.”
He scanned the stands, his tone rising: “He provoked me, and I met him head-on. Now I’ve won, yet I’m the villain?
Do I need to stand still and let him kill me to be ‘proper’?”
In the stands, Luo family members’ expressions grew complex. Some lowered their heads, others clenched their teeth, a few nodded, swayed by his words.
Luo Jiutian continued: “He’s the Young Master, so his life matters. What about me? I’m not the Young Master, so I deserve to die?
Why not write the rules clearly: only the Young Master can kill, while others must take it without fighting back?”
His words sparked murmurs among the Luo clan, soft but growing into a wave.
“He’s not wrong…”
“True, who wouldn’t fight back? No one just lets themselves be slaughtered.”
Even some of Luo Chen’s supporters wavered.
Luo Changqing’s brows furrowed, lips moving, but no words came.
Luo Jiutian raised his hand, tossing Luo Chen’s spear.
It arced through the air, landing heavily at Luo Changqing’s feet with a dull thud.
“Since you all despise me so much, I’ll leave.”
Turning his back to the crowd, he said simply: “The world is vast—there’s always a place for me.”
As he stepped to leave, a voice called: “Wait.”
Luo Jiutian paused, glancing back.
Luo Changqing took a deep breath, bowing his head: “Today was my oversight. The clan should stand united. Chen was at fault first, and you acted in self-defense. My failure to discipline him caused your grievance.”
The crowd gasped.
Who’d have thought the lofty Luo Patriarch would publicly apologize to a junior?
Luo Jiutian’s lips curved slightly.
Worthy of a Patriarch, weighing pros and cons in an instant—truly shrewd.
He wasn’t really leaving the Luo family.
Not yet.
Luo Chen wasn’t fully drained, his destiny points ripe for the taking. Why pass up a chance to shear this fat sheep up close?
From the start, he’d fought with clear goals.
First, harvest destiny points.
Second, establish dominance.
One solid strike prevents a hundred more.
Plus, he’d turned the tables, putting Luo Chen in the hot seat, shifting the clan’s focus to the ‘new Young Master.’
For a while, no one should dare challenge him again.
Total victory!
Since Luo Changqing had humbled himself, Luo Jiutian would offer a way out.
He softened his aura, replying calmly: “Since the Patriarch has spoken, as a junior, I won’t hold a grudge. Let today’s matter end here.”
His words showed his stance while giving the Patriarch face.
Luo Changqing nodded slightly, regaining his usual calm.
With a wave, attendants came, carrying Luo Chen away.
Luo Jiutian didn’t spare him a glance, stepping off the stage.
Where he passed, the crowd instinctively stepped back, clearing a path, none daring to block him.
At the crowd’s edge, two familiar figures approached.
Su Wan’er rushed to him: “Brother Jiutian, are you hurt?”
Her words were concerned, but her hands roamed freely over him.
Luo Jiutian’s mouth twitched, grabbing her wrist to stop her wandering hands.
“What are you doing? Ouch, I’m just checking for injuries!”
“I don’t know if I’m injured, but if you keep touching, I will be.”
Su Wan’er pouted, trying to lean closer, but a voice interrupted.
“Sister Wan’er is so attentive.”
Luo Yunlan approached, her gentle gaze sweeping Luo Jiutian before landing on Su Wan’er’s hand.
Su Wan’er raised her chin, unapologetic: “Of course, he’s my husband.”
Before Luo Jiutian could speak, she added: “And… he didn’t push me away earlier, letting me touch all over.”
“…I did push you away,” Luo Jiutian said with a ‘benevolent’ smile.
Su Wan’er blinked at him: “Did you?”
“Yes,” he gritted out.
Luo Yunlan chuckled softly, not arguing, stepping to his other side to smooth his sleeve.
Once again, the two women flanked him, one on each side.
Luo Jiutian tugged his arms, but neither budged.
Luo Yunlan held tight, Su Wan’er pressed close, as if coordinated.
He sighed, giving up, letting them escort him out of the arena…