The final round of the much-hyped Zhuque Prefecture Friendship Exchange finally commenced. Over the years, this match had been dubbed the “Battle Royale,” and its only rule was that there were no rules—anything went.
According to the regulations, eight contestants were selected: the first-place winners from each combat-capable profession group, plus the top scorers among the remaining participants.
The eight contestants on stage this time hailed from the paths of Body Cultivation, Sword Cultivation, the Spirit Beast Sect, Talisman Cultivation, Array Cultivation, and Artifact Refining. Among them, there were three sword cultivators.
“Place your bets, no regrets! Final calls before we begin! Step right up and see! Now is your chance to make a fortune!”
“Insurance! Get your insurance here! Personal accident insurance! If an audience member is accidentally injured, pay-out is eight thousand! Fifty thousand for accidental death!!”
“Three sword cultivators out of eight? I’m betting on the sword cultivators! That’s a three-eighths chance! Three thousand spirit stones on a sword cultivator victory!”
“Sword cultivators? Did you forget who the last champion was? It was the Spirit Beast Sect! Five thousand spirit stones on Spirit Beast!”
“Really? I’ll follow that with three thousand! Spirit Beast Sect!”
“But isn’t the dog belonging to the Spirit Beast Sect’s junior sister also technically a sword cultivator? I’m still betting on the swords!”
Song Yin still remembered the legends of the Spirit Beast Sect’s junior sister. The black beast-taming chain in her hand was engraved with dark runes, and the end of that chain was looped around the neck of the strongest sword cultivator.
Song Yin greatly admired this senior. Inspired by her, she had asked Jiang Zuilan before the match if she should intervene and cheat by using her charm arts to bewitch all three sword cultivators and press them into Jiang Zuilan’s service.
At the time, Sikong Lan had snorted coldly: “Why not bewitch two and leave one? Let the three of them start an internal war; that way, no one will suspect you.”
Song Yin thought her Master’s reasoning was impeccable and was eager to try.
However, Jiang Zuilan’s face was filled with the exhaustion of someone cramming for a major exam. Bearing dark circles under her eyes while reviewing her opponents’ common skills, she shook her head: “Forget it. Who knows how a sword cultivator’s brain is wired. You might bewitch him and then dump him, only for his combat power to double out of spite.”
The profession of “Sword Cultivator” was simply too unreasonable.
They were strong in normal combat, strong when chasing a wife, but a sword cultivator whose wife had run away was the strongest of all.
Clang! The gold-painted, red-silk-draped gong was struck. The match began.
In the middle of the open clearing, an arena stage several dozen feet high rose into the air. It was a perfect square of equal length and width, floored with bluestone bricks.
At the center of the four sides—North, South, East, and West—and at the four corners—Southeast, Southwest, Northeast, and Northwest—stood eight goals, each covered with a net.
There were only two types of props in the entire game: two kinds of balls. There were orange balls for the players to seize and throw into the white-netted goals, and white balls that emerged from the ground to strike people at random.
Every orange ball successfully netted earned five points. Every time a player was hit by a white ball, five points were deducted.
Once a contestant fell off the high platform, they were eliminated and penalized two hundred points. The match would end either after half an hour or when only one person remained. The final results were calculated based on points.
When Sikong Lan had first seen this setup years ago, her pupils had trembled, further convincing her that there were other transmigrators out there: “Your Immortal Alliance has truly produced a genius—they’ve combined dodgeball and basketball.”
However, the cultivation world had its own way of playing. No matter how detailed the rules were, they were ultimately useless; everyone took pride in simply knocking their opponents off the stage.
Never mind the balls; the goal was to be the last one standing on the arena.
In the chaos, the array cultivator was the first to strike. Countless powerful vines erupted from the bluestone, their thick, emerald-green stems coiling around the contestants’ legs.
The sword cultivators immediately swung their blades to sever the vines. The talisman cultivator was clever; instead of attacking the vines, she threw out yellow charms to attack the trapped disciples first, using the array cultivator’s move to her own advantage.
The early stage of the melee began with the array cultivator’s large-scale area attacks.
Jiang Zuilan, wearing her repaired brass knuckles, fought like a whirlwind, clashing fists with one opponent and exchanging moves with another. This was why free-for-alls were annoying; it was a top-tier gauntlet match where no one followed a set pattern.
From time to time, white balls would silently launch from the floor, aiming for her waist, forcing her to dodge. She had to dodge people and dodge balls—it was infuriating.
The game tested offense, defense, stamina, and adaptability; it forced the players to become all-rounders.
The audience below wasn’t nearly as tense as the contestants. Instead, the stands were littered with sunflower seed shells as the crowd watched the spectacle with great excitement.
Eight Broad-Cry Birds held “Recording Pearls” in their beaks, each bird assigned to track one contestant, providing a 360-degree, dead-zone-free live broadcast of the event.
“How interesting! Truly, heroes emerge from the youth. This year’s show is fantastic. Hey, look at that cormorant from the Spirit Beast Sect—it just flew off with the talisman cultivator’s charms!”
“Sigh, the array cultivator can’t beat the sword cultivator; he’s already been pushed to the edge of the stage.”
“Oh! Look! The artifact refiner is about to defeat that body cultivator!”
In the arena, an artifact refiner was currently focusing his attacks on Jiang Zuilan.
This artifact refiner wasn’t a lightweight like Zhan Zhaozhao; he was the first-place winner of his group stage, after all. He directly unleashed the “Immortal-Binding Rope.” He had made a calculation: sword cultivators had sharp weapons, and talisman cultivators would counter with their own charms, but body cultivators were traditionally all brawn and no brains—they would surely be rendered helpless by the rope.
Thus, he charged directly at Jiang Zuilan, certain he could suppress her.
Jiang Zuilan wasn’t afraid at all; her expression remained indifferent.
Heh. Back when she was a child, she had accidentally put a handful of rat poison into the mice that were her First Senior Brother’s “emergency rations.” She had even taken the leftover poison and put it into the green bean soup her Second Senior Sister had brewed, serving it to a newly joined junior brother as “sugar drops.” When her Master beat her for it, the closest thing at hand to tie her up with was an Immortal-Binding Rope.
As a body cultivator who had been hit with Immortal-Binding Ropes by the cultivation world’s strongest artifact refiner, Sikong Lan, since she was small, how could Jiang Zuilan possibly fear some counterfeit, low-quality version from another sect?
In her eyes, this thing was no better than an ordinary piece of string; it held no deterrent power whatsoever.
Jiang Zuilan stood her ground, allowing the rope to touch her body. She only moved a single finger.
The artifact refiner smiled triumphantly, only to see Jiang Zuilan grab the end of the rope and yank it back with immense force, causing him to stumble.
Then, using the length of the rope like a leash, she jerked the refiner toward her and quickly moved behind him to tie him up with his own weapon. She gripped one end of the rope while the other hand swung it in circles, flinging the refiner into the air and then back toward the ground until the rope became a blur. The artifact refiner’s Immortal-Binding Rope was supposed to be his weapon; now, it was his cage.
Just then, a Wind-Thunder Charm from the talisman cultivator went off. Thunder rolled through the clear sky. As the array cultivator fell, his final array activated, and fire spread through the cracks of the bluestone like lava before exploding.
Amidst the deafening roar and the flying sparks, Jiang Zuilan kicked the artifact refiner off the stage and tossed his worthless rope down after him.
On the other side, the sword cultivators actually started fighting among themselves. The three were disciples of different elders who didn’t get along, and that rivalry had trickled down to the students.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, the Spirit Beast Sect staged a counterattack, taking out the sword cultivator who had been the favorite to win.
In the blink of an eye, two of the three sword cultivators were eliminated.
The audience below screamed.
“The sword cultivators! I bet my entire net worth on the sword cultivators!”
“I’m never gambling again!”
“Don’t panic, there’s still one left!”
“Hiding iron wire in the sword tassel? One pull and it takes a whole chunk of meat. How shameless!”
In an instant, only three people remained on the stage: a sword cultivator, Jiang Zuilan, and the Spirit Beast Sect disciple.
Jiang Zuilan checked the time. The match lasted half an hour, and only half an incense stick of time remained. Today would likely end in a draw.
If all three remained on the stage, the ranking would be decided by the points from the balls.
Preparing for a tie, Jiang Zuilan began to move for the orange ball.
However, the ball was intercepted by a blur—the Spirit Beast Sect’s cormorant.
The orange-beaked, white-bodied bird landed on the outstretched arm of the Spirit Beast Sect disciple.
Jiang Zuilan was already somewhat exhausted. At this moment, she focused her full defense on the sword cultivator; she didn’t want any more complications that might allow the swordsman to take advantage of her.
“I heard you’re a mermaid?” The Spirit Beast Sect disciple, who had a sharp face like a monkey, grinned.
He was quite ugly. If Song Yin saw him, she would probably pout, cover her eyes, and leave to find a dozen handsome boys to wash her eyes out.
Jiang Zuilan wasn’t one to judge by appearances. She was currently in a state of exhaustion, staring at him blankly. At the same time, she kept one ear cocked toward the sword cultivator’s movements, remaining vigilant.
As long as he didn’t provoke her, she was content to stand on the stage with the Spirit Beast disciple until time ran out.
However, the Spirit Beast disciple smirked, thinking he looked bold and uninhibited.
“Your entire sect is made of demon cultivators. It’s pure luck that you made it this far—all coincidence. Tsk. It seems there’s no one left among the body cultivators.”
“A mermaid? A mere little fish. You’re nothing but a meal for my plate.”
Snap.
A string snapped in Jiang Zuilan’s mind.
Already in a state of high tension from exhaustion and vigilance, these provocative words were the final straw.
Suddenly, the weather on the stage shifted. Dark clouds rolled in with the sound of thunder, bringing cold wind and freezing rain.
“What’s happening? Didn’t the talisman cultivator run out of Wind-Thunder Charms?”
“Look! What is that?!”
A massive, deep blue mermaid tail appeared as Jiang Zuilan stood proudly on the storm-tossed stage.
Unlike the stories of weak mermaids who could only cry pearls, this tail was powerful and muscular, with smooth lines. Every scale—so blue it was almost black—shimmered with a cold light like impenetrable armor.
With every breath, the blue-black scales opened and closed in unison, a tiny sound that struck terror into the heart. The white membranes of the tail fin were as thin as a cicada’s wing, yet they were pulled taut and sharp as a blade ready to strike.
Beneath Jiang Zuilan’s skirt was this fierce, massive mermaid tail. Supported by it, her height reached nearly four meters. She looked down at the arena, her lips pressed thin, her gaze filled with disdain and contempt.
Whap! Whap-whap! The giant tail moved with incredible speed, combining agility with raw power.
Jiang Zuilan swept them away with her tail.
First, she slammed her tail down on the Spirit Beast Sect’s cormorant, flattening it into a crack in the floor so deep it couldn’t be pried out.
The arrogant tail rose from the flattened bird and immediately broke the bones of the Spirit Beast disciple. The muffled sound of cracking echoed through his flesh as he was forced to his knees.
The resulting gale even knocked the sword cultivator to his knees as well.
The sword cultivator: “Huh? I have to kneel too?”
Jiang Zuilan had gone on a rampage. She had completely abandoned the idea of a draw. She sent people flying with her tail one by one—smack, crack—grabbing them, slamming them, and then sweeping them away like trash.
“Holy crap! The Qunxian Sect is too strong! They just keep producing experts!”
“Is that a mermaid? That’s way too fierce!”
“A mermaid… absolutely terrifying!”
“I’m so glad I bet on Jiang Zuilan from the start! Heh, I bet on her every round, and I won! I can buy a new estate now!”
Finally, only one person remained on the arena—a high-and-mighty ruler with delicate features and a massive fish tail.
It all happened in a flash. Only half an incense stick remained, the orange sparks flickering.
The gong sounded.
Jiang Zuilan—Winner!
Jiang Zuilan took first place and won many prizes. Additionally, Ling Yi’s gambling stalls made a massive profit, and Sikong Lan rewarded her with a significant amount of spirit stones.
Song Yin had spent the last two days quite happily. After shopping with her sisters, she went back to He Lan Tan’s inn.
Song Yin sat on the edge of his bed, jingling as she rummaged through her rabbit bag to organize her new pills.
Sikong Lan’s medical achievements were very high; her alchemy followed strict principles of harmony and balance. Whenever a pill was formed, it caused celestial phenomena and was sought after by thousands.
Jiang Zuilan, on the other hand, loved to innovate. The strange things she created were truly unprecedented.
Song Yin played with the pills, not forgetting to boast about her sister’s skills to He Lan Tan: “My sister is amazing! Not only can she fight, but she can also make medicine!”
“Look, Xiao Lan has so many cool medicines! For example, this one can change the color of your nails—make them rainbow-colored—and it lasts for an hour.”
This caught the professional interest of the Medicine Sect’s young master. He Lan Tan snorted: “I can make God-grade pills.”
Song Yin was still immersed in the excitement of showing off the novelties. Jiang Zuilan had packed her bag with many new medicines—pills and ointments alike—many of which she hadn’t even opened yet.
“And this one! This can make any food smell like pears.”
“This is also very powerful—if you eat it, you won’t feel thirsty. You can go three days without drinking water. The side effect is that once it wears off, you’ll want to drink ten vats of water.”
He Lan Tan watched for a while, then asked in a low voice: “Do you like these things very much?”
“I love them!” Song Yin’s eyes sparkled as she held out a pill in her palm, showing him one that could turn hair into red curls.
He Lan Tan said nothing, picking up a pill to observe its texture. He rolled the smooth pill between his fingers, guessing the main ingredients and proportions.
The two of them leaned against the headboard together. As they talked, they grew closer until their lips naturally met in a tender kiss.
Song Yin curled into his arms, tugging at his collar, kissing until she was breathless. Her leg moved against his, and she turned to sit astride him.
He Lan Tan rested one hand on her back, stroking along her spine, while the other moved to her waist, hooking into her pale yellow belt.
Even while breathless, Song Yin didn’t forget to swat his hand away. She took a bite of his lip and pulled back, rummaging through the open rabbit bag for a medicine: “Not allowed. I have to check your wrist first.”
She pulled out the Virginity-Checking Ointment.
This was one of the medicines she always carried with her; it was her favorite practical gadget. If one’s “original essence” (virginity) was intact, it would be white. If they had only one partner, it would be blue. If they were promiscuous, it would turn red.
He Lan Tan was already used to her checking his purity before every intimate moment. He habitually held out his hand, wrist turned up, to make it easier for her to apply.
Every time before, it had been the blue color that symbolized his undying fidelity.
Song Yin skillfully scooped out a dollop and smeared it on his wrist.
The white paste slowly blended into his skin, merging with his body heat.
Song Yin sat across him, waiting seriously for the ointment to change color. He Lan Tan occasionally kissed her cheek, his other hand playing with the ends of her hair.
His tone was lazy: “You might as well just come with me to the Medicine Sect. That way you won’t have to check every time. It’s always going to be blue—”
His words cut off abruptly.
The ointment changed color.
On his wrist, it was a glaring, unmistakable red.