When Qu Xiangxiang and Yun Qingqing stood at opposite ends of the square stone platform in the training grounds, the voices of the watching disciples grew louder.
After all, this was supposed to be just a friendly spar between fellow disciples. Elder Bai Shu had already said “stop short of harm,” and the earlier matches had indeed been civil, with no one injured. But when it came to these two, things were different.
Everyone in the cultivation hall had seen Yun Qingqing draw her sword against Qu Xiangxiang, only to be publicly scolded by Elder Bai Shu in front of the entire class. With both of these spoiled young ladies being equally arrogant and vicious, no one expected this match to end peacefully. Some even set up secret wagers on the outcome. Unsurprisingly, the overwhelming majority of spirit stones were bet on Yun Qingqing.
Weak spiritual roots were practically a disability in the cultivation world. No matter how hard Qu Xiangxiang tried, she couldn’t possibly defeat Yun Qingqing, whose cultivation was far superior. Worse still, Qu Xiangxiang—descendant of the greatest and oldest alchemy sect—was infamous for ranking near the bottom in basic alchemy classes. Betting on her was like throwing money into the sea.
At least tossing money into the sea made a splash. Betting on Qu Xiangxiang meant either you had a brain problem and needed Elder Wuhua to prescribe medicine, or an eye problem and needed Elder Wuhua to check your vision.
Disciple A: “I bet half a month’s living expenses on Yun Qingqing. This time I can’t lose.”
Disciple B: “Half a month? I bet half a year’s food allowance. If she loses, I’ll be gnawing bark for six months.”
Disciple C: “Half a year? I borrowed someone else’s food allowance for six months to bet on Yun Qingqing. She *has* to win! Honestly, aside from that half-demon Mu Hanzhang, anyone in Cangxuan Mountain could beat that useless Qu Xiangxiang.”
…
Ignoring the voices against her, Qu Xiangxiang looked past the crowd and saw Mu Hanzhang resting under the golden velvet tree, eyes closed. Even from a distance, she thought she could see his long, curled lashes. Her gaze lingered on his perfect face longer than it should have.
Until Yun Qingqing’s shrill voice cut through.
“Qu Xiangxiang, even if you beg me later, I won’t show mercy.” She sneered. “You’d better watch (xiaoxin)yourself.”
Snapped back to reality, Qu Xiangxiang blinked. “Snacks (dianxin)? What snacks?”
Yun Qingqing: “…” Well, that settled it. There was no way she could lose to this lunatic.
The crowd: “…” Excellent. No need to worry about eating bark now.
Yun Qingqing summoned her sword, standing tall with it in hand. “Enough nonsense. Make your move!”
Qu Xiangxiang remembered how the novel had described Yun Qingqing’s sword—fast, but lacking patience. She couldn’t afford to be reckless. She needed to wear down Yun Qingqing’s stamina, then strike at the right moment.
Resolved, Qu Xiangxiang spread her palm and summoned Zhuoyue Whip.
Elder Bai Shu stroked his long beard, the same color as his eyebrows, and raised his hand. “Then… begin.”
The moment his words fell, Yun Qingqing swung her sword in a half-arc, unleashing a fierce wave of sword energy that tore toward Qu Xiangxiang.
Qu Xiangxiang tapped her toes, sidestepping the strike. Yun Qingqing twisted her wrist, the blade slicing toward Qu Xiangxiang’s throat.
She knew this woman would never heed Bai Shu’s “stop short of harm.”
Qu Xiangxiang bent low with the whip, executing a difficult dodge. Yun Qingqing’s strike missed, and she leapt forward, thrusting straight at Qu Xiangxiang’s abdomen.
Qu Xiangxiang braced her hands against the ground, swiftly lifting her left leg to kick Yun Qingqing’s sword hand. Yun Qingqing winced, her wrist faltering for half a beat. Seizing the moment, Qu Xiangxiang dropped her leg and drove a sharp kick into Yun Qingqing’s abdomen. Startled, Yun Qingqing flipped backward to retreat.
“Go!”
Furious, Yun Qingqing hurled her sword into the air, fingers flashing through seals to control it. The blade flew at Qu Xiangxiang with speed and agility far beyond what it had in her grip.
Qu Xiangxiang refused to back down. She leapt forward, but the sword’s movements were too fast to predict. She steadied herself midair, gripping Zhuoyue Whip, waiting for Yun Qingqing to strike first.
Sure enough, Yun Qingqing lost patience. The sword streaked toward Qu Xiangxiang’s brow. Just before it could pierce her, shouts erupted from the crowd below.
Now!
Qu Xiangxiang’s right hand snapped the whip. Silver light shimmered as Zhuoyue Whip lashed out like a serpent, coiling around Yun Qingqing’s sword.
Two streams of spiritual power clashed, locked in stalemate.
“I—I’m not seeing things, am I? That useless Qu Xiangxiang is holding her own against Yun Qingqing?!”
“You’re not wrong—I see it too! Heavens, what’s happening? My spirit stones!”
Someone, crushed by the thought of eating bark, cupped his hands to shout: “Yun Qingqing, what are you doing? Can’t even beat Qu Xiangxiang?!”
At that, Yun Qingqing’s rage flared. She soared into the air, grasped her sword again, and poured more power into it. “Qu Xiangxiang, I didn’t expect a piece of trash like you to have some tricks.”
Spiritual energy surged in Qu Xiangxiang’s core. She smiled. “Against you, a few tricks are enough.” With a sharp tug, she flung Yun Qingqing—sword and all—aside.
“How… how could this be…”
Before Yun Qingqing could recover, the whip coiled around her sword wrist. Pain seared through her arm, forcing a cry from her lips as her sword clattered to the ground.
The crowd fell silent.
A disarmed opponent—there was no mistaking the outcome.
This time, even the bark of Cangxuan Mountain’s trees wouldn’t be enough to feed all the losers.
Yun Qingqing stared blankly at her fallen sword. No. No, this wasn’t possible. She hadn’t lost. She *couldn’t* have lost!
Her hair disheveled, she staggered to her feet, reaching for the sword again. But Qu Xiangxiang gave her no chance. With a flick, she drew the weapon into her own hand, stepped forward, and pressed the blade to Yun Qingqing’s throat. “The match is decided. Yun Qingqing, admit defeat.”
“Qu Xiangxiang, don’t flatter yourself! I haven’t lost!” Her eyes reddened, humiliation brimming to tears.
“Your sword is in my hand.” Qu Xiangxiang arched a brow. “You can’t beat me.”
“You—you must have used some underhanded trick! How else could trash like you win? It was Qu Weiran, wasn’t it? He gave you something. You cheated! You’re despicable!”
“The despicable one is you!” Qu Xiangxiang tossed the sword to the ground. “What, lose and then slander me? This match was only announced this morning. My brother isn’t clairvoyant. If you can’t even admit defeat, then the young lady of Wujimen clearly has no spine.”
“You—!”
Elder Bai Shu raised his hand, cutting off their quarrel. “Enough. The match is decided. The victor is—Qu Xiangxiang!”
A collective groan rose from the crowd. Some were already planning to stockpile bark before their fellow disciples stripped the mountain bare.
“Elder!” Yun Qingqing cried, eyes red. “This isn’t fair!”
“Unless you can provide proof, there is nothing unfair here,” Bai Shu’s sharp eyes gleamed. “Everyone saw what happened. Do you still have objections?”
Yun Qingqing lowered her head, eyes brimming, silent.
“That’s enough.” Bai Shu waved his thin hand. “Step down.” Glancing at the roster, he called out, “Next pair—Mu Hanzhang and Ruan Qingtao.”