Surprisingly Enough, Common Sense Is Overpowered in a Cliché Cultivation World

Ning was walking along the paved road toward the arena. It was the place where the competition was usually held, and most of the duels were also conducted there. Yes, duels. If someone harbored enmity, they could fight in this arena.

Killing others was not permitted, though some young masters would occasionally ignore this rule and kill their opponents. After all, "accidental" deaths were a thing.

Ning didn't frequent the arena much. He was occupied with cultivating, undertaking missions, and conducting experiments, leaving him little luxury to observe the fights held there.

In front of the arena, a desk stood near the entrance, serving as the registration point. Ning approached the desk, and the worker there glanced at him before speaking, "To register, write your name on this slip and insert it into that box."

The worker pointed toward a closed box.

Ning nodded, took the slip, and elegantly inscribed "Ji Ning" in neat handwriting and slipped it in.

Observing this, the worker remarked, "You're allowed to watch the competition. When your name is called, it will be your turn."

The whole competition seemed quite disorganized. If someone didn't sit through the entire event and their name was called while they were absent, they would lose by default. However, he didn't dwell on it too much.

"I see. Thank you." Ning cupped his fist and walked away.

Ning swiftly followed the crowd and chose a suitable seat to watch the competition. Not far enough to miss the minute details of the competition, nor too close to not get a panoramic view of the field. It was a choice seat as far as he was concerned.

Waiting for the competition to begin, Ning brought out a small pack of jerky he had prepared beforehand, with the full intention of enjoying this competition.

Only he knew how lackluster the entertainment was in this world, especially since Ning came from a world saturated with entertainment. If cultivation was not as enjoyable as it was, he would be getting bored out of his mind.

After all, he was a shut-in in this world, and there were very few sources of entertainment to be found within the sect.

So, he wasn't going to miss this wonderful opportunity to see people beat the crap out of each other, and you bet he's going to enjoy watching them do it.

Ning's thoughts turned as he watched the ongoing flow of disciples until he suddenly heard the sound of gulping.

"This brother, do you sell those jerky?" someone unexpectedly spoke.

Ning turned to his side and saw a chubby disciple in the third stage, his eyes appearing nearly closed due to his weight. Hmm...

"No need. I have a lot more; you can take this." Ning handed the small bag to the chubby guy.

"Really? You-you are a really good guy." The disciple didn't hesitate and took the bag, eating strips of it with an expression of enjoyment.

Well, even if sold it, he would only get some mortal coins at best. Plus, this guy was also in the third stage, he would definitely need some demon cores at some point. Ning was playing the long game here.

Ning took out another small bag of jerky. He was not lying when he said he had more; he was ready perfectly for this competition in every way.

"Are you participating in the competition?" It was the chubby guy who seemed to be chewing on the jerky.

"Yes. Brother, are you going to take part in it too?" Seeing how interested the chubby guy seemed, Ning asked.

"No, I am just here to cheer my friend." Hmmm......

"I see. If so, then why not watch the fights together?" Ning suggested. He could see at once that this guy was the chatterbox type and he did need some info.

Hearing Ning's suggestion, the chubby guy seemed filled with excitement, and while eating, he went on to talk about various things, from his birth to his whole ancestral history.

Ning nodded from time to time and replied to some questions. By the time he had finished the bag of jerky, Fatty Li, as he suggested he be called, had already considered Ning his friend.

Few sat down to listen to his plight, so he found Ning particularly pleasing to the eye.

Of course, Ning did not engage with this guy without thought. Fatty Li was acquainted with the 'protagonist' Xiao Fan, so much so that he could be considered the only friend he has in the outer sect.

At once, Ning knew that he was talking with that one fatty friend every protagonist has. According to the normal trope, this guy would become a strong cultivator, somehow getting random power-ups from nowhere.

He did not mind making some killer connections. But Ning found that the more he listened, the more excited Fatty Li would get. He would go on and on about various things. If his throat was parched, then he would take a sip of water and then speak even more.

After an hour, Ning was tired and pointed toward a group of people, "Those people seem to be betting on the winner of the competition."

Hearing him, Fatty Li's eyes glistened.

Yes, pay attention to anything else, please.

"I want to check it out." Fatty Li walked toward them as Ning sighed and followed.

With exaggerated movement, Fatty Li walked toward the group and took out all his money, and said, "I want to place a bet on Xiao Fan being the winner."

The moment he said this, everyone burst into laughter, earning a disbelieving glance from everyone else. After all, Xiao Fan was the infamous "Trash" of the outer sect.

"Okay," the bookie looked at Fatty with pity in his eyes, but his hand quickly snatched the small pouch of spirit stones.

Fatty Li then turned to Ning as he spoke, "Brother Ning, you should also put some money on Xiao Fan. You can earn a lot."

Ning seemed to think for a while. Of course, he had already made the decision; otherwise, he would not have drawn Fatty Li's attention here.

Seeing Ning seemed kind of pleasing to the eye, a few of the viewers persuaded, "Brother, the 'Trash' wouldn't even qualify. You will just lose money."

"Thank you for your reminder, brother." Ning thanked the nice guy before handing 30 spirit stones and continued, "But place my bet on Xiao Fan. Even though I might not win, it could at least bring some entertainment. In the end, life is all about taking chances. Even if I lose, it can help support my fellow disciples."

His gentle demeanor made a few people nod, but they did not make a bet. After all, betting on the 'trash' was a sure loss strategy.

At the same time, Ning's thoughts moved quickly.

Bet? Of course, Ning would bet spirit stones. This was a surefire way to earn a lot. But he was somewhat restrained because he did not have many spirit stones on him. Also, betting too much would just attract more attention.

This gambling was run by disciples, not by the sect itself, so it's better to be a bit cautious.

Fatty Li laughed, seeing Ning decided to trust him, as he patted Ning on his back. "You will definitely win a lot, brother."

Ning smiled wryly as suddenly a black-robed man appeared in the middle of the arena. He emanated a strong pressure, and the surroundings quieted down. It was the elder in charge of supervising the competition.

In a deep voice, the elder announced, "The Outer Sect Competition is going to start now. The called disciples should come to the stage and fight. First, Zheng Faolan and Li Yangmei."

Ning directed his attention to the arena and started watching the fights. The first few fights were rather unremarkable, the type that would not even be mentioned if it were a novel. After a good amount of boring matches, the elder called out the name that made the crowd burst into a frenzy.

"Disciple Xiao Fan." Taking out a slip from the box, the elder read aloud.

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