Immediately Wu Chen agreed to the bet, the hall exploded with excitement.
This was the Golden Sky Pavilion—where fortunes were made and broken in a single breath—and a high-stakes wager like this was pure spectacle. So some Gamblers abandoned their own games, merchants craned their necks, even the Pavilion's attendants which are mostly the apprentice appraisers, paused their duties, all drawn to the unfolding drama.
Lin Yufeng, confident and dramatic, didn't even glance at the lower tables. Instead, he strode up to the Exclusive platform, where only the most expensive orbs were kept.
Atop the elevated platforms, under special protection, sat the most coveted orbs—some even pulsing faintly with spiritual energy. These orbs were prized not only for their beauty but for the high likelihood that they contained rare treasures.
The orbs displayed on the raised platform were carefully selected by certified appraisers, each chosen based on specific energy signatures and structural anomalies suggesting the presence of valuable materials. Due to this professional validation, their prices were significantly Higher, but still the potential rewards made them highly sought after.
So with a theatrical flourish and arrogance, Lin Yu Feng selected a massive orb the size of a human head, its surface pulsing with golden veins that shimmered under the lamplight.
"I've chosen this!....the Heaven's Marked Orb," he declared proudly.
"They say it's likely to contain a High-Grade treasure." The crowd murmured in awe, some nodding in approval.
Even the appraiser behind the platform gave a subtle nod—though not confirming anything, his expression hinted at value.
Then the young man gaze flicked to Wu Chen's chosen orb—small, cracked, its surface dull and grime-caked like something dredged from a riverbed. The contrast couldn't have been more absurd.
"And you" he sneered, "bet against me with... that? A pebble?"
Then he mockingly laugh "Hahaha! You might as well have picked a rock from the street!" The lackeys behind him also laughed.
But Wu Chen didn't respond. He had no need to.
He doesn't need anyone's approval.
The reason Wu Chen dared to accept such a high-stakes bet wasn't out of reckless bravado—it was because he understood the very nature of the gambling house itself.
The Golden Sky Pavilion wasn't just a gambling hall—it was a colossus of influence, one of the most powerfully backed organizations in the entire Azure Flame Kingdom. Its reputation was as unshakable as its security. No one—be they noble scion or sect elder—would dare place a bet within its walls and then attempt to back out. That would be suicide.
And not the clean kind.
The Pavilion had its own way of collecting debts, and those unfortunate enough to test its patience often found themselves wishing for death instead of the fate they received.
It was this iron rule that once allowed Wu Chen—back when he was still weak—to walk out of this very hall with a golden ring he'd rightfully won. That ring had changed the course of his life. Others had pursued him out of greed after he left, but within the Pavilion? Not a single person had dared to lay a finger on him.
Li Wei, however, didn't know all of this. He was anxious, watching nervously from the side. In his mind, this was madness. Not only were they risking an enormous amount, they didn't even have the gold to begin with. How could his teacher gamble what they didn't possess?
But to Wu Chen, this so-called "arrogant young master" had just delivered him the perfect opportunity—served on a golden plate. Right when he needed gold the most.
And he wasn't bluffing.
The Pavilion's arrogance was its strength.
They didn't demand collateral.
They didn't collect stakes in advance.
They didn't ask for written contracts.
Why? Because in matters of gambling and shadowed dealings, their word was law. No one questioned it.
This wasn't just confidence—it was a quiet, terrifying authority.
In fact, the Pavilion's enforcement was the stuff of legends. It was whispered that their agents were former assassins of the Night blade Sect. Their vaults were protected by formations said to be crafted by high ranked array masters. Their patrons? They ranged from underworld kings to royal heirs, all of them bound to a single, unbreakable rule:
Debts incurred within these walls will be paid one way or another.
So when Wu Chen and Lin Yufeng made their wager, not a single attendant came forward to request confirmation. No ledgers were pulled. No coins exchanged hands.
The Pavilion didn't need any of it.
That in itself was a statement: power that didn't need to speak to be understood.
For nobles like Lin Yufeng, the danger wasn't just physical. It was political. Even a single debt left unpaid here could ruin his entire family's reputation—blacklist his clan from noble circles, cut off business ties, or worse.
While for rogue cultivators like Wu Chen, refusal meant being hunted by the Pavilion's dreaded Gold Reapers—men whose job is to reduce debtors to husks. They didn't just strip away wealth. They stripped away cultivation, dignity, and identity.
But Wu Chen wasn't worried. He knew Lin Yufeng would never dare to go back on his word here. If Wu Chen won, the money would be his. Guaranteed.
And if he lost?
Well… he didn't intend to.
With his Supreme Intelligence, Wu Chen's instincts, perception, and insight operated on a different level. He didn't make moves based on hope—he made them based on certainty.
His odds of winning weren't high.
They were overwhelming.
And even in the unlikely event that he lost?
This wasn't the same Wu Chen from before. No longer the powerless youth who could be crushed with a single blow.
Now, if it came down to it… he could protect both himself and Li Wei.
Even if things turned ugly.
So the atmosphere in the Golden Sky Pavilion grew thick with anticipation as the master stonecutter prepared his tools. A hushed silence fell over the assembled crowd - merchants paused their haggling, gamblers abandoned their tables, even the serving girls stopped pouring wine as all eyes turned toward the raised platform.