“Very well!”
The applause thundered, and beneath the platform, it was as if another world had opened up. Everyone was shouting, completely captivated by the two graceful figures on stage.
The amber radiance of the Ruby Sash and the endless azure glow of the Celestial Sword Tianye transformed the place into a scene from an enchanted realm, breathtakingly beautiful. But more stunning still were the two young women darting about, engaged in a contest that had lasted from morning until now, with no clear victor yet.
Especially impressive was Duan Ling’er from Great Bamboo Peak, who, under the fierce onslaught of Lu Xueqi’s Celestial Sword, managed to hold her ground both offensively and defensively, much to everyone’s astonishment.
Below the stage, the esteemed elders from both lineages, including Tian Yizhi, Su Ru, and Master Shuiyue, watched intently. Even the sect leader, Daoxuan, sat in his chair, watching the spectacular duel with a smile, nodding in approval.
Tian Yizhi and Su Ru, hearts entwined, were even more tense. Yet, seeing Duan Ling’er’s agile techniques, they felt somewhat relieved. Tian Yizhi glanced at his wife, noticing her tense expression, and said softly, “Relax, Ling’er is fine.”
Su Ru turned to look at her husband, smiled slightly, and then returned her gaze to the stage. Tian Yizhi shook his head slightly, suddenly sensing a commotion among the disciples behind him, even those from other lineages.
He turned to see, and for a moment, even with his profound cultivation, he was stunned.
In the narrow path formed by the parting crowd, Zhang Xiaofan slowly walked forward, his clothes charred, with some parts still smoking. His face, hands, and body were covered in large, black burns, and a pungent odor filled the air.
Everyone could see how painfully he moved, as if each step required all his strength, yet he persisted, determined to keep going.
Tian Yizhi watched as his youngest disciple slowly approached, silent. He rose from his seat, his short, stout frame moving. Su Ru, sensing something, looked at her husband curiously, then followed his gaze and turned pale, immediately standing as well.
More and more people turned their attention to this scene.
Zhang Xiaofan finally reached Tian Yizhi. The latter, looking at the disciple he had always neglected, felt a surge of uncontrollable anger. So intense was his fury that, despite his efforts to suppress it, everyone could hear it: “Seventh, who dared to harm you so? Is victory not enough for them?”
Su Ru flinched, hearing her husband’s genuine rage for the once-ignored young disciple. Worried, she pulled at Tian Yizhi, but her gaze soon fell back on Zhang Xiaofan.
The other disciples of Great Bamboo Peak, too shocked, stood rooted to the spot, forgetting to help their little brother.
On the stage, Lu Xueqi and Duan Ling’er were locked in a fierce battle, their magical artifacts flying through the air, exuding a divine aura.
Zhang Xiaofan took a deep look at the stage, then turned to his master, seeing the anger on his plump face, mingled with a faint trace of concern.
Exhausted, he shook his head and whispered, “No, Master, I won.”
As he spoke, dizziness overcame him, and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Seeing Zhang Xiaofan fall, the entire assembly from Tian Yizhi to the disciples was stunned. After a moment, Tian Yizhi and others reacted, lifting Zhang Xiaofan.
Tian Yizhi examined him carefully, noting the extensive burns, but no serious internal injuries. He pondered, seeing the growing number of onlookers, and decided to carry Zhang Xiaofan away, saying to Su Ru, “I’ll take Seventh back. You stay here and watch over Ling’er.”
Su Ru frowned but nodded, glancing at the unconscious Zhang Xiaofan, unable to hide her anxiety. The other Great Bamboo Peak disciples gathered around, and Du Bishu offered, “Master, I’ll go with you.”
Tian Yizhi shook his head. “No need.”
At this point, even Daoxuan’s attention was drawn. “Tian, is this your disciple? What happened?”
Tian Yizhi replied coolly, “He’s injured, but not seriously. I’ll take him for treatment. Excuse me.”
Daoxuan nodded and turned back to the duel. As Tian Yizhi carried Zhang Xiaofan away, the matter quickly subsided, and the crowd’s excitement returned to the two beauties on stage. Only a few young disciples, standing on the periphery, noticed that the Fenghuiping disciples were congregating, their faces grim.
If Zhang Xiaofan were awake, he would have recognized this as the place where Zeng Shushu had dueled.
In the underworld, the flames of the Nether Realm burned fiercely, roasting the wailing souls, filling the air with the stench of blood and char. Zhang Xiaofan felt the world spinning, but in an instant, he found himself back in the peaceful village of his youth, with a gentle breeze blowing, soothing and pleasant.
But a sudden clap of thunder split the sky, dark clouds gathered like a mountain, and the sea surged with fury. In a moment, the kind villagers turned to corpses, and the tranquil village became a hellish scene!
“No!”
He shouted with all his might, tensing every muscle, feeling a sharp pain in his chest, drawing a gasp and a shudder, waking him up.
“Ah! He’s awake, Xiaofan is awake!” The familiar voice, etched deep in his heart, sounded first, a mix of worry and joy. Zhang Xiaofan opened his eyes and saw Duan Ling’er.
It was as if he had returned to the past, she in her red dress, the Amber Silk still wrapped around her waist, her silky hair flowing down her fair neck, framing her pale face and bright, pure eyes. Zhang Xiaofan even saw his own reflection in them.
“Sister!” He called out in his heart.
He gazed at her, wishing this moment could last forever.
In the room, the Great Bamboo Peak disciples gathered around. Tian Yizhi checked his pulse and nodded, “He’s fine, nothing serious.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, smiles breaking out.
Zhang Xiaofan looked around, seeing all the disciples present, himself lying on the bed, and his brothers standing nearby. Tian Yizhi and Su Ru sat on chairs beside the bed.
“What… what happened?”
Duan Ling’er smiled, “You don’t remember? You fainted after your match with Peng Chang from Fenghuiping, giving us quite a scare, but you’re fine now.”
Zhang Xiaofan moved, feeling only some fatigue and a pain in his chest. Surprised, he said, “But I was… all burned…”
Tian Yizhi interrupted, “Those burns are superficial. We applied our secret medicine. You only suffered a heavy blow to the chest, but no serious damage. Rest a few days, and you’ll be fine.”
Su Ru, sitting beside, added, “Xiaofan, thank your master. If not for him, you’d be recovering for half a year.”
Zhang Xiaofan, shocked and grateful, whispered, “I’m unworthy, and I’ve troubled you, Master.”
Tian Yizhi snorted, “Unworthy? Now, you’re the most capable on Great Bamboo Peak!”
Zhang Xiaofan, surprised, stammered, “But, Master, I… compared to Sister Ling’er and the senior brothers, I’m far from… ” He trailed off, seeing the strange looks on his brothers’ faces, especially the unusually pale face of Song Daren, who looked unsteady.
Su Ru sighed, “Daisen, get a chair for your senior brother.”
Lv Daisen hurried to bring a chair, and Song Daren, though reluctant, eventually sat down, breathing heavily.
Zhang Xiaofan, puzzled, asked, “Senior Brother, what’s wrong?”
Song Daren gave a bitter smile but didn’t speak. He Da zhi, the fourth, explained, “Little Brother, it’s the fourth round of the Seven Lineage Martial Meet, and you’re the only one left from Great Bamboo Peak.”
Zhang Xiaofan was stunned, then turned to Duan Ling’er, “Sister, did you…?”
Duan Ling’er’s face darkened, “I lost.”
Seeing her disappointment, Zhang Xiaofan felt a pang in his heart, but there was no time for idle thoughts.
Tian Yizhi scrutinized Zhang Xiaofan, his face stern, “Seventh.”
Zhang Xiaofan’s heart skipped, sensing the repressed anger in Tian Yizhi’s words. Seeing his master’s displeased expression, he felt a shiver of fear, “Yes, Master, what…?”
Tian Yizhi cut him off, “How did you acquire such cultivation?”
Zhang Xiaofan’s mind reeled, his mouth agape, unsure how to respond.
He looked around at the familiar faces, seeing his brothers’ questioning gazes. It was understandable; a usually incompetent junior suddenly showing such skill was hard to accept.
Under Tian Yizhi’s piercing gaze, sweat trickled down Zhang Xiaofan’s forehead. For a moment, he almost blurted out his secret, but he held back.
He was no longer the ignorant youth of five years ago. From his brothers’ conversations, he knew of the fame of the Temple of Heavenly Sound and the true identity of the emaciated old monk, Puzhi, from that night.
Over the years, he had secretly practiced the “Great Dharmic Mantra,” but his gratitude for Puzhi never wavered.
“I, I mean, I’m foolish, and my progress has been slow. A few days ago, I discovered I could manipulate objects, but I couldn’t believe it, so I didn’t tell you, Master, and Masteress. I never thought…”
Tian Yizhi sneered, “Never thought you’d stand out so much, making such a splash!”
Zhang Xiaofan hastily said, “No, Master, it’s not like that…”
Tian Yizhi, unmoved, “You say you can manipulate objects, but that requires at least the Fourth Layer of Jade Purity. I asked Daren, and he only taught you the Second Layer. How did you bypass the Third Layer and reach the Fourth Layer, hmm?” His voice grew icy, and everyone’s faces paled.
Zhang Xiaofan fell silent, the room quiet.
After a long pause, as Tian Yizhi’s face darkened and the others’ concern grew, Zhang Xiaofan slowly got up, obviously exhausted. He struggled to his feet and, in front of everyone, under Duan Ling’er’s tearful gaze, knelt before Tian Yizhi.
Tian Yizhi remained cold, “Well?”
Zhang Xiaofan, head bowed, stared at the small patch of ground in front of him, “Master, please punish me.”
Everyone was shocked, and Tian Yizhi’s anger boiled over. Su Ru frowned, “Xiaofan, if you have concerns, just tell your master. Why do this?”
Zhang Xiaofan remained kneeling, immobile.
Tian Yizhi laughed coldly, “Good, good, good! You’re a stubborn one, and I have raised a fine disciple!”
Zhang Xiaofan trembled, his feelings and expression hidden. In the room, someone’s breathing quickened. He whispered, “It’s all my fault, please punish me, Master.”
Tian Yizhi stood, the chair beneath him splintering to the floor. Everyone recoiled, as he growled at Zhang Xiaofan, “Your fault? Do you know that secretly learning arts is a grave offense in Azure Ethereal Conclave? The lightest punishment is decades of wall-gazing, and the worst, expulsion. Do you understand?”
Zhang Xiaofan lifted his head, seeing his master’s genuine anger, his heart sinking.
“How could this be?” He thought, recalling Duan Ling’er’s assurances.
But he did not turn to look at her.
The room fell into a deathly silence, only the anxious breaths breaking it.
Zhang Xiaofan’s heart, in that silence, grew cold, and he closed his eyes, lowering his head, “I am unworthy, please punish me, Master.”
A powerful force struck, sending Zhang Xiaofan flying backward, crashing into the wall, dust rising, and he landed, spitting blood.
Everyone’s faces changed, and Song Daren led the others, kneeling before Tian Yizhi, “Master, please spare Xiaofan!”
Song Daren pleaded, “Master, it’s my fault. I should have guided him better. Please forgive Xiaofan!”
Amid their pleas, Duan Ling’er stood motionless, watching Zhang Xiaofan, pale and bleeding, in the corner.
Tian Yizhi, staring at his kneeling disciples and Zhang Xiaofan, his face still full of anger, huffed and strode out.
Su Ru looked at them, sighing, “Get up, all of you. Take care of Xiaofan. I’ll talk to your master.”
They obeyed, “Yes, Mistress.”
Su Ru sighed again, leaving.
In the room, they exchanged glances. After a while, Duan Ling’er, facing away, helped Zhang Xiaofan. Blood trickled from his mouth, but he managed a smile.
A single tear fell onto his bloodied face.
The night was deep, and the cloud sea remained beautiful, like an ethereal realm.
Tian Yizhi stood in the square, gazing at the starry sky, the moon cold and frosty.
Behind him, familiar footsteps approached. Su Ru, beside him, looked up at the stars, smiling, “Feeling better?”
Tian Yizhi grunted, silent.
Su Ru smiled, “You fooled Daren and Ling’er, but not me. That force you used likely jolted Xiaofan’s meridians, forcing out the blood, right?”
Tian Yizhi remained silent.
Su Ru shook her head, “Still so prideful at your age!”
Tian Yizhi glared at her, “You saw, didn’t you? That brat, ‘Master, punish me!’ Acting so wronged, as if I were the bully!”
Su Ru glanced at the living quarters, “I don’t believe you didn’t notice.”
Tian Yizhi, “What?”
Su Ru, “Ling’er’s behavior, isn’t it strange?”
Tian Yizhi grunted.
Su Ru laughed, “You noticed too. Xiaofan has never left Great Bamboo Peak. It must be our disciples teaching him. Ling’er and Xiaofan are close, and she probably taught him the Third Layer. And if she didn’t, why wouldn’t she defend him? Who else could it be?”
Tian Yizhi, already thinking this, showed no surprise, but still angry, “Even if it’s Ling’er’s fault, Xiaofan defied me in front of so many, not admitting it. It’s unforgivable!”
Su Ru chuckled, patting his shoulder, “You’re the same, refusing to admit your mistakes. But Xiaofan did it for Ling’er, a rare devotion.”
Tian Yizhi rolled his eyes, silent.
Su Ru, “What will you do? Teaching without permission is a serious offense. For Ling’er’s sake, let’s not be too harsh. Let Xiaofan return to Great Bamboo Peak, and meditate in the back mountains for thirty to fifty years.”
Tian Yizhi, startled, grunted, “I finally have a prodigy, and you want to bury him? No, tomorrow, he’ll continue the competition, no matter what.”
Su Ru smiled, taking his hand, “I knew you’d soften.”
Tian Yizhi, his face reddening, recovered, “Old couple, you shouldn’t tease.”
Su Ru, eyes full of mirth, “Two hundred years ago, during the Seven Lineage Martial Meet, you came to my quarters, risking my master and sister. You weren’t afraid then!”
Tian Yizhi, “Your master was senile, and your sister, I despise. She wanted to be alone, dragging you along. I hate her, no fear.”
Su Ru, glaring, “Don’t insult my master and sister. They cared for me deeply.”
Tian Yizhi shrugged, his plump figure shaking comically, looking smug, as if to say, “They treated you well, but you married me.”
Su Ru, scolding, “Old fool.”
Tian Yizhi, in high spirits, led her through the cloud sea.
“Oh, I forgot something important.”
“What?”
“That brat used a fire-stick as a weapon, impressively. I forgot to examine it in my anger.”
“Xiaofan, having learned privately, might not know much about weapon control. Shouldn’t we guide him?”
“Hmm, we’ll see. Last night, the sect leader told us that the Spirit Lord sensed a malevolent aura, but couldn’t find it.”
“What now?”
“Nothing to do, it’s gone. The Spirit Lord is six thousand years old, bound to be a bit senile, like your master at six hundred.”
“…”
And thus, the night passed, filled with the complexities of emotions, secrets, and the weight of duty.
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