Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter Sixty-Six: The Casino of Desire

Upon hearing these words, Chen Chang'an's immediate reaction was one of astonishment. Could it be that Cao Wu, impressed by his exceptional performance in the first assessment at Qinghua Mountain, was planning to grant him a special reward?

With great enthusiasm, he tidied his attire and entered Wuyi Lane, cheerfully making his way toward Lookout Tower No. 3. Ascending the flights of stairs to the very top, he saw Cao Wu sitting upright with her back straight, her ponytail neatly tied, savoring tea.

“Sister Cao!” Chen Chang'an greeted her.

Cao Wu rose and turned without speaking at first. Instead, she slowly opened her palm, guiding the surrounding air currents so that, as if by magic, a book materialized in her hand.

A surge of joy welled up in Chen Chang'an's heart. He could already guess most of her intention, yet he still cupped his hands and inquired politely, “Sister Cao, this…”

With her other hand, Cao Wu formed a fist and tapped a special spot on his shoulder, producing a metallic clang as if striking steel, affirming his guess with a nod.

“Yes, you’ve indeed broken through to the Body Tempering level. Just half a month ago you weren’t even a martial artist. Such speed—unseen in centuries.”

She gently pushed the book toward him and continued, “This volume is called The Midnight Soul-Returning Record. It contains detailed explanations on how to reach Second Rank Soul Cultivation and specific training methods. Take it home and study it well.”

“In the nine stages of a martial artist’s path, each is succeeded by the next upon breakthrough: for example, reaching the peak of Third Rank Technique Initiation leads directly to the opening of Fourth Rank Mountain-Breaker. But the transition from First Rank Body Tempering to Second Rank Soul Cultivation is different—it requires a special method. That’s why so many secret tomes for this stage exist.”

So it was as he suspected. Chen Chang'an’s delight nearly made his face split in two. His plan had been to wait until after the assessment to formally join the Wuyi Guard and then ask Cao Wu for such guidance, but he hadn’t expected her to look after him so attentively.

“Thank you, Sister Wu!” he exclaimed, catching himself and bowing deeply as he reached to accept the book.

Cao Wu paused at his odd turn of phrase, then offered a faint smile. “It’s nothing, you deserve it. In fact, when martial artists first emerged—and for a long time after—there was no concept of Second Rank Soul Cultivation.”

“But with the rise of the various Buddhist, Daoist, and Confucian sects, martial artists relying solely on powerful bodies and primal arts found themselves at a disadvantage, constantly suppressed by all manner of sorcery and techniques.”

“A classic example: Over eight centuries ago, a mere Buddhist novice easily slew a Fifth Rank Grandmaster with the Asura Finger of Buddhist lore.”

“Thus, over time, the concept of Second Rank Soul Cultivation developed and grew ever more important. Remember, this stage is crucial—advance steadily and with care.”

Her explanation might have been complex to others, but Chen Chang'an understood intuitively. In essence: Soul Cultivation enables martial artists to resist magical attacks, safeguarding them from being easily overpowered by sorcery in combat.

“I understand!” Chen Chang'an replied.

Cao Wu’s words were clear and encouraging: “I look forward to the day you make your mark in the Wuyi Guard, and I’m curious how long it will take you to break through to Second Rank Soul Cultivation.”

With that, she returned to her seat and resumed sipping her tea.

Chen Chang'an carefully stowed The Midnight Soul-Returning Record and left the lookout tower. Having unexpectedly obtained what he wanted, he decided to rent a room at a nearby inn rather than head home, treating himself to a fine meal and a luxurious soft bed—a truly delightful evening.

The only regret was that he’d lost another gold tooth from Su Qingtang’s collection.

After satisfying his hunger, he sat cross-legged and began reading The Midnight Soul-Returning Record intently. Having perused the introductory pages, he gained a rudimentary understanding of the Second Rank Soul Cultivation realm for martial artists.

A person possesses three souls and seven spirits, which together with the body form a complete being—Body Tempering for the exterior, Soul Cultivation for the interior.

With hands joined, he concentrated on absorbing the knowledge, following the breathing and focusing techniques described in the book. Gradually, his mind sank into deep meditation.

The next morning, as the first hint of dawn lit the east, sunlight filtered through the square-paned window and spilled across Chen Chang'an’s face and body. He felt the unique warmth of summer’s light streaming over his skin and slowly opened his eyes.

“Ah…”

He stretched and yawned, closing the book and murmuring to himself, “Doesn’t feel much different. Well, this sort of thing takes time—can’t expect to master everything overnight.”

He washed up, had breakfast, and made his way to the entrance of Wuyi Lane for the second assessment. Though not especially early, the crowd had thinned considerably—after the first round, only two thousand candidates remained.

“Hey! Hey! Over here!”

No sooner had he arrived than Ye Lin dragged him to a secluded corner, whispering conspiratorially, “Brother Chen, when we were investigating the Princess Changning’s Little Lotus case, we got along pretty well, right?”

“Mhm, sure, sure!” Chen Chang'an replied half-heartedly.

Ye Lin took his response as encouragement, clasping his hand with a slight tremble. “Brother Chen, I… I have a favor to ask.”

“Confucius say!” Chen Chang'an patted his head.

Ye Lin frowned. “…”

Chen Chang'an quickly corrected himself, “No, I mean, go on!”

Grinning, Ye Lin fished out a pouch of silver scraps from his coat and pressed it solemnly into Chen Chang'an’s hand. “Brother Chen, this is all I have. Only you can manage this for me—you must!”

Chen Chang'an accepted the heavy pouch and tucked it into his sleeve with a generous wave. “No need for such formality between us. Just say the word and I’ll see it done!”

“Great!”

Ye Lin’s handsome face broke into a radiant smile. “It’s nothing much. Since you’re in the same group as Miss Ruan, could you, during the assessment, speak well of me in her presence? Please.”

“Talk me up, make me sound impressive, all right?”

He began ticking off his fingers, “Luzhou’s greatest detective, solver of the Guanyin Blood Case, the serial killings, the Bloody Garment Case—all those stories I told you, just make sure Miss Chen hears them all.”

“No problem, you have my word,” Chen Chang'an promised, thumping his chest.

Meanwhile, two lines of Wuyi Guards, dressed in black, marched out in perfect order to stand on either side of the lane. Cheng Mulong followed close behind, announcing in a loud voice, “Attention, the second assessment begins now.”

“The rules are simple: within Wuyi Lane’s three hundred sixty-five shops, each of you will choose one to enter and then come out again.”

“We will rank you based on how long you take. Only the top five hundred will advance to the third assessment.”

The candidates murmured among themselves:

“What’s going on? This seems too easy—just pick a shop, go in, and come out? Anyone with hands could do that.”

“No, no, I doubt it’s that simple. There must be traps or something hidden inside.”

“Probably not traps—they wouldn’t allow casualties. There must be some other trick.”

Chen Chang'an stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“Oh, right!”

Cheng Mulong, having finished his explanation, suddenly added, “You may have noticed from the rules, but I’ll state it plainly: the second assessment is to be undertaken individually.”

“All previous groupings are now dissolved; you have no further connection to your teammates.”

“What…”

Ye Lin, also a candidate, was the first to react—crying out in dismay and fainting on the spot, his spirit clearly crushed. He’d invested all his money in Chen Chang'an, only to find Chen and Ruan Jingchu were no longer grouped.

A complete waste!

There was a heavy thud as his body hit the ground.

“What’s the matter?” Cheng Mulong looked over. “Struck by heatstroke again? Looks like the same fellow as yesterday. How did someone this frail place third in the first assessment?”

“Probably his teammates’ doing.”

“Hurry, carry him out,” Cheng Mulong ordered dismissively.

Once again, Luzhou’s greatest detective was hauled away to rest by the Wuyi Guards, while the other candidates began filing into the lane, each searching for a shop that suited their fancy.

Chen Chang'an surveyed the area, but nothing stood out—the shops were much like those on any other street. Still, he knew the Wuyi Guard’s assessments were never child’s play; there had to be a reason for the selection of this location.

After walking in about five hundred steps, he noticed a shop marked “67” that piqued his interest. Judging by the two large dice hanging at the entrance, it appeared to be a gambling den.

“All right, this one will do!”

He snapped his fingers, placed his hands on the dusty door, and gently pushed it open before stepping inside.

With a bang, the door shut tightly behind him.

He shivered reflexively but didn’t look back—instead, he continued deeper until, at the center of the room, a square table materialized out of thin air. It spun around several times, scraping across the floor before coming to a halt.

Then, flower petals began to drift down in a flurry, and amid the shifting light, a young woman appeared, her skirt flaring in a perfect arc as she sat gracefully atop the center of the table. Her bosom was full and soft, her makeup exquisite, her bearing regal and alluring, hair adorned with flowers and jade.

Chen Chang'an couldn’t help but stare, utterly captivated by her beauty. Eager for a closer look, he hurried over and pressed his face to her chest, asking, “May I know your name, miss?”

Meanwhile, in the lookout tower, Cheng Mulong’s gaze shifted from Shop No. 63 in the lane back to Cao Wu. His expression was complicated. “I still can’t fathom how Chen Chang'an managed to attract over six thousand copper coins to himself yesterday. I can’t accept that his group placed first in the assessment.”

“But for this second trial, your favored son-in-law seems destined to rank last. Of all three hundred sixty-five shops in Wuyi Lane, he chose the most difficult—No. 63, the Casino of Desire.”

Cao Wu lowered her eyes without reply, only her middle finger tightening briefly around her teacup.

After a moment’s pause, her gaze passed over Cheng Muye and settled on Shop No. 36. She murmured, “The most difficult… the Casino of Desire, indeed!”