Henry Brooks said coldly, "I hear your weapons are the best in the world. Do you dare to compete?"

The shopkeeper, realizing this wasn't a customer but someone here to cause trouble, looked even more displeased and retorted coldly, "You're not the only one who comes here wanting to compete with weapons. How do you want to do this?"

"Since I'm here, of course I'll follow your rules."

"Very well then. The wager is one thousand taels. We'll draw up a contract, with the authorities as guarantors. Do you dare?"

"Hurry up, I'm in a rush," Henry Brooks urged impatiently, pretending to be annoyed.

Weapon competitions happened often. If a weapon won, its value would skyrocket. The Cui family was tired of this, so they set a rule: the wager was one thousand taels. The shopkeeper immediately sent a clerk to call for people.

News of the weapon competition spread quickly, drawing a huge crowd. While patrolling nearby, Charles Carter heard the commotion and hurried over. He asked with concern, "Brooks brother, I heard you were injured. I went to your house to visit, but the steward said you were resting and couldn't see guests. Are you alright?"

"Not fully recovered yet, but thank you for your concern."

"There's no need for formalities between brothers. We're all investigating. I know who did it, and I'll make sure to take his head," Charles Carter said fiercely.

Henry Brooks felt the other's sincerity and warmth in his heart. Having such a friend wasn't bad. After a brief chat, several officials hurried over. After confirming both parties were willing and clarifying the rules, they wrote up the contract. Both sides signed and stamped it, making the bet official and legal. If anyone tried to renege, the authorities would pursue it.

Charles Carter knew Henry Brooks well and was aware that the best weapons in the Qin household were Qin Qiong's tiger-head spear and a pair of iron clubs. But the Cui family's weapons were famous, so he asked worriedly, "Brother, are you sure about this?"

"We'll know once we compete," Henry Brooks replied nonchalantly, then turned to the shopkeeper and added, "The contract is signed. Let's begin."

"As you wish. Bring out the Red Blood Blade," the shopkeeper ordered coldly.

The crowd erupted in excitement. The Red Blood Blade was legendary—said to have been forged over three years by a disciple of the swordsmith master Ou Yezi, using a meteorite from beyond the heavens. It was the shop's prized treasure, blood-red all over, hence the name. It had never lost a competition, and someone had once offered ten thousand taels to buy it.

Charles Carter panicked when he heard the Red Blood Blade was coming out. He quickly grabbed Henry Brooks's arm and whispered, "Brother, how about I help you get out of here? No one would dare stop us."

"No worries," Henry Brooks replied calmly, pushing Charles Carter's hand aside and stepping forward.

The onlookers whispered among themselves, pointing and gesturing. Someone scoffed, "With the Red Blood Blade out, he's bound to lose. This guy is overestimating himself—arrogant and conceited."

"Exactly. He must be desperate to prove his weapon. Of all people to challenge, he picks the Cui family? He's just asking for humiliation."

"The outcome is obvious. Nothing to see here, let's go."

Chapter 4: Digging a Pit

Weapon shop.

The crowd buzzed with discussion, pointing and gesturing. No one believed Henry Brooks could win.

A clerk came out from the back room carrying a sword. The scabbard was ancient and heavy, exuding a sense of age. The shopkeeper took it, drew the blade with a flourish, and a streak of red light shot from the scabbard. The blade was blood-red, like burning flames, radiating an inexplicable pressure. Everyone felt their breath catch, then burst into cheers.

"What a blade!"

"Famous for a reason!"

"Victory is certain!"

...

The shopkeeper took in everyone's reactions with satisfaction. Agreeing to the competition and bringing out the Red Blood Blade was, of course, to show off the Cui family's heritage and boost their reputation. As for the thousand-tael wager—did the Cui family lack money?

The old families and military nobles had long-standing grudges. Henry Brooks was the legitimate son of Qin Qiong, representing the nobles to some extent. The shopkeeper grew excited at the thought of suppressing him and earning his master's reward. He urged, "Draw your sword! Or are you scared? If you don't want to compete, just kneel and admit defeat."

Charles Carter was full of worry. The wager didn't matter, but losing face did. If the nobles lost face, how could they hold their heads up in Chang'an? But at this point, to admit defeat without competing would be even more humiliating. Gritting his teeth, he said in a deep voice, "Shopkeeper, I bet you lose and my brother wins. The wager is one hundred taels, even odds. Do you dare?"

The shopkeeper sneered, "Only a hundred taels? Is that all you can offer? Well, I know you nobles are poor. Since you want to give money to the Cui family, how could we refuse? I'll take your bet."

Henry Brooks hadn't expected Charles Carter to place a bet. He was clearly worried and didn't think Henry Brooks would win, yet still bet on him. This meant a lot, so he said, "Brother, thanks for believing in me. Why not make it a bit more interesting?"

Charles Carter smiled bitterly and whispered, "That bastard's words are harsh, but it's true. I'd like to bet more, but a hundred taels is all I have."

The shopkeeper mocked, "You could put it on credit. As the son of Duke Lu, your status is worth at least a thousand taels. The question is—do you dare?"

"Damn it, I'll play with you," Charles Carter said angrily, his face changing. The reputation of the Duke Lu's household was at stake. Even knowing he'd lose, he had to go through with it—better to lose the bet than lose face!

"Good, let's draw up the contract," the shopkeeper said, seeing Charles Carter fall into his trap. He shot a triumphant look at the waiting official, who nodded and immediately began writing the contract.