“Ling Xiao, now that you’ve got a cave dwelling, you won’t back out of my challenge, will you?”
Jian Renwang approached as Ling Xiao returned. Though wary of Lan Yu’er, he had no fear of Ling Xiao. With Lan Yu’er stating she wouldn’t interfere, he had no reservations.
Of course, he didn’t dare go too far with Ling Xiao—Lan Yu’er’s fiery temper could tear him apart.
“How could I? Three of us in one cave dwelling is still too cramped,” Ling Xiao said, shrugging. “I accept your challenge.”
He preferred not to train in front of others, so securing another cave dwelling was a must.
“Heh.”
Jian Renwang smirked inwardly: *Ling Xiao, I’ll make you lose all face in front of Lan Yu’er, you filthy beggar-born brat!*
Why should *he* be so close to Lan Yu’er?
He touched his storage ring, which held a pill—a pill that would ensure an easy victory over Ling Xiao.
Without it, he wouldn’t have dared challenge Ling Xiao so boldly.
Now, he was brimming with confidence.
“Inner disciple Jian Renwang versus outer disciple Ling Xiao. Both, ascend the challenge platform. The rules are posted on the wall over there. Read them yourselves—I won’t repeat them,” Deacon Wang announced.
Typically, spars required a host, and Deacon Wang often filled the role.
Though not particularly strong, as an inner sect deacon, he carried authority.
But now, he seethed with hatred for Ling Xiao. Lan Yu’er had humiliated him earlier, and while he didn’t dare provoke her, mentally cursing Ling Xiao and Lan Yu’er felt perfectly justified.
“Got it!”
Jian Renwang nodded, muttering, “Not my first time. Such a hassle.”
Ling Xiao nodded too. The rules were blatantly unfair to outer disciples, but he couldn’t change them yet. His only option was to keep winning.
“Begin!”
Deacon Wang leaped off the platform, and the tension on stage surged.
All eyes watched the two Yuehua Sect disciples with keen interest.
They’d heard of Ling Xiao’s outer sect exploits, but few had witnessed them, so believers were scarce.
Many eagerly awaited the moment Ling Xiao would be crushed by Jian Renwang, kneeling and begging on the platform.
Just like when Jian Renwang defeated Xiao Yan.
Lan Yu’er’s strength was her own, not Ling Xiao’s!
Below the platform, Zhao Zhi clenched his fists nervously.
He knew Jian Renwang too well. Though capable, the man never relied on true skill, always resorting to tricks or schemes.
In the joint training records, Jian Renwang was described in four words: “sinister and cunning.”
Ling Xiao was formidable, but against such a devious opponent, could he win?
“You’re Zhao Zhi, right?” Lan Yu’er asked with a smile.
“Yes, Senior Sister Lan,” he replied.
“You look tense. Don’t think Junior Brother Ling can win?” she asked, her smile serene.
Zhao Zhi gave a bitter laugh. Her perceptiveness was uncanny. He nodded, saying earnestly, “Senior Sister Lan, I know Junior Brother Ling’s strength. He likely wouldn’t lose to a peak Mortal Realm first-level master. But Jian Renwang is sinister, full of tricks. I’m afraid Ling Xiao’s chances aren’t high.”
He was being polite. He’d seen the grim fates of outer disciples who faced Jian Renwang—utterly crushed.
Even outer sect elites like Wang Feng, Jin Ming, and Xiao Yan would rather lose to a core disciple in one move than face him.
He genuinely worried for Ling Xiao.
“Heh, is that so?”
Lan Yu’er’s eyes sparkled, her long lashes fluttering as she smiled and turned back to the platform. Her lips, rosy and alluring, parted in a blend of purity and charm. “I don’t think so. Schemers like him are like furless rats in a blizzard before Ling Xiao—nothing but bad luck awaits.”
Zhao Zhi smiled wryly.
He figured Lan Yu’er’s closeness to Ling Xiao blinded her to objectivity.
As an outsider, he saw things more clearly.
“I hope Ling Xiao wins,” he said sincerely, though he doubted it.
…
Facing Ling Xiao, who stood casually before him, Jian Renwang sneered inwardly and struck a stance, raising his longsword.
*Boom!*
Explosive true essence erupted, enveloping the sword, radiating intense energy.
After a brief pause, Jian Renwang pointed his sword at Ling Xiao, stomped the ground, and shot forward.
As he charged, the sword scraped the air, sparking fiery glints, the scent of something burning filling the space.
The true essence around the sword ignited into flames.
A meter from Ling Xiao, Jian Renwang accelerated, thrusting straight for his throat—
Precious-grade gold martial technique: **Flaming Assassination**!
Facing the oncoming attack, Ling Xiao remained calm.
At just the right moment, he leisurely extended his right hand—two fingers!
His index and middle fingers.
With perfect timing, they seemed to pinch Jian Renwang’s sword blade.
“Nice move, very flashy. Shame it’s all show,” Ling Xiao said.
His fingers flicked lightly.
A terrifying force surged through the sword to Jian Renwang’s hand.
Like he’d been struck by a hammer, Jian Renwang’s grip faltered, blood seeping from his torn palms. His sword flew from his hand, and he stumbled back over ten steps, stopping in disarray.
His arms still trembled.
Below the platform, Zhao Zhi’s breath quickened at the sudden turn.
He thought he knew Ling Xiao, but now realized he’d only scratched the surface.
Beside him, Lan Yu’er smiled softly, nodding.
She knew this was just a glimpse of Ling Xiao’s power. If he unleashed his full strength, every inner disciple would be stunned.
“Senior Brother Ling is incredible!” Xiao Yan gaped.
Last year, that same move had grievously injured him, costing him a shot at challenging Wang Feng for outer sect first.
Yet Ling Xiao had countered it with two fingers.
