Xu Chaoqi walked slowly down from the stage, and the walk back was much quieter than when he had come up. It seemed even the wind had stopped, the air filled only with the restless heat of people’s breathing.
The crowd stared unblinkingly at the young man in black robes—the match just now had shaken them too deeply.
The Fumo Mountain elder had already risen from his stone bench, rushing inward without any regard for propriety. The Zhenling Mountain elder, who had just been glaring eye to eye with him a moment ago, also came to his senses and hurried to rush in as well.
“Stand right there! This is Fumo Mountain’s territory—do you, Zhenling Mountain, still think you can barge in by force?!” The Fumo Mountain elder hastily shouted to stop him—years of friendship had, in this instant, turned into scheming rivalry. Even as the Fumo Mountain elder blocked him with one arm, his own legs were still stepping forward.
The Zhenling Mountain elder was flustered with anger and shouted loudly, “Nonsense! That young disciple clearly said he also cultivates the Way of Arrays—by rights he belongs to my Zhenling Mountain too!”
The Fumo Mountain elder let out a “heh,” not yielding an inch.
“This is my Fumo Mountain disciple—don’t you dare take him away!”
The Zhenling Mountain elder was beside himself with fury. “Don’t be shameless! Is he really from your Fumo Mountain? Don’t go claiming false connections!”
The Fumo Mountain elder retorted immediately, “Why wouldn’t he be? Go back and check the genealogy records and you’ll know!”
The elder was really just putting on a show of force—if it truly came down to it and he couldn’t establish any real connection, he could simply add Xu Chaoyao’s name to the records. After all, that name closely resembled Xu Yao, the founder of their Way of Talisman sect.
While the two sides were locked in fierce dispute, in the eyes of all the Way of Talisman disciples, they watched as Xu Chaoqi walked to the center of their group and sat down beside that junior brother named Song Shuiqing.
The crowd’s morale had been low all day, but at this moment, the gazes they turned on Xu Chaoqi were burning hot, as if they could scorch him to nothing.
Xu Chaoqi felt his scalp prickle under their stares, unable to sit still. Yet the crowd’s hearts were surging with excitement—if they hadn’t been worried about frightening Xu Chaoqi, they would have loved nothing more than to rush over and crowd around him until he was crushed.
Xu Chaoqi pressed down on the head of Song Shuiqing, whose eyes were shining just as brightly, and said with a smile hidden in his eyes, “Come quick and learn more—that way you’ll have a few more points in your favor when you go up on stage later.”
Song Shuiqing snapped back to his senses and hurriedly began drawing talismans together with Xu Chaoqi.
The sunlight faded from bright to dim, the shadows on the ground stretched longer, and the wind in the air blew away the warmth, leaving only coolness behind.
Soon it was Song Shuiqing’s turn. By now he was no longer as nervous as he had been at first. Summoned by the attendant, he walked up onto the stage.
The crowd watched him—quite a few Fumo Mountain disciples knew that he had spent the whole afternoon drawing talisman patterns together with Xu Chaoqi, and so they turned their gazes toward him, as if expecting some result.
Song Shuiqing took a few forceful breaths to steady his mind. He glanced down at Xu Chaoqi below the stage as if seeking reassurance; seeing this, Xu Chaoqi walked down to stand below the platform, and only then did Song Shuiqing’s heart settle halfway.
The dueling match began—
Meanwhile, the Lord of the Western Region opened his light screen right on time as well. He knew exactly what his own son was made of, and held no expectations whatsoever for the Way of Talisman.
He saw that the cultivator facing his son was of the same cultivation level, and the Western Region Lord raised an eyelid lazily, thinking that once his son finished the match he would just go home for dinner.
The two combatants made their moves. The cultivator flashed down from above, and the Western Region Lord, certain his son would lose without question, turned his head to look elsewhere.
Who would have thought that at that very moment, Song Shuiqing suddenly flung out ten Teleportation Talismans at once—the cultivator nearly got teleported clean off the stage and stumbled badly.
The Western Region Lord snapped his head back around, utterly astonished.
The cultivator dodged and steadied himself, then attacked again. Spirit-light flickered across the dueling platform, and every time the Western Region Lord thought his son was surely finished, Song Shuiqing managed to respond with agile skill.
The Western Region Lord’s eyes grew brighter and brighter, and his back gradually straightened more and more.
How could the attendant beside him fail to sense his master’s delight? He hastily flattered, “Not seeing him for just a few days, and the young lord’s progress has been astonishing—becoming a mighty expert of one region is surely just around the corner!”
Though the Western Region Lord said nothing in reply, his expression clearly showed he was quite pleased by the words.
Song Shuiqing’s grasp of the Way of Talisman was nowhere near as refined as Xu Chaoqi’s, but because he had crammed in some knowledge at the last moment, he actually held his own in the fight without falling behind.
One move from him, one strike from the other—this was a rare match that the Way of Talisman disciples found thoroughly exhilarating to watch.
Right at the very end, Song Shuiqing actually drew a Spirit-Suppressing Talisman on the spot. The crowd was stunned—drawing a talisman on the spot during a match was something that had never happened before—yet not only did Song Shuiqing succeed in drawing it, the power of this Spirit-Suppressing Talisman was greater than any before it.
Amid a sheet of white light, Song Shuiqing set down the talisman paper, his eyes clear and smiling as he looked toward the stage below. The corners of his lips curved up as he met Xu Chaoqi’s gaze.
He had won.
The Western Region Lord naturally noticed the direction of Song Shuiqing’s gaze as well. He looked down toward the stage below and could faintly make out the figure of a young man dressed in black—this, he supposed, must be the Xu Qi that Shuiqing so often mentioned.
The Western Region Lord narrowed his eyes, feeling that this person looked somehow familiar. Just as he was trying to get a clearer look at the man’s face, the light screen flickered and switched to the next disciple.
The Western Region Lord clicked his tongue, somewhat put out.
Fortunately, his own son had just won, so he stood up, stretched lazily, and decided to go find an old friend to “catch up on old times.”
When the various mighty experts had first arrived in the Southern Region, the very first thing on their minds had been to submit a request for audience to that legendary figure. Whether or not that person would grant an audience was one matter, but if by some stroke of luck they did, wouldn’t that be an opportunity beyond compare?
And so even the Western Region Lord himself had not expected that his request for audience would actually be approved.
When the golden crane came flying, he was in the middle of chatting idly with his old friend, who had turned his head away, not even wanting to look at him.
Golden light flashed across the sky, and the two of them looked up.
“This is…” Both of their expressions changed.
The Western Region Lord suppressed the excitement in his heart and stepped into the barrier. His outward bearing was composed and steady, his gaze restored to calm. Looking at the figure ahead who was painting at a writing desk, he bowed in salute.
“Rise,” Wen Chaoxi said flatly.
The Western Region Lord rose, not daring to let his gaze wander carelessly. The one above asked him, “How has the Western Region fared over these past thousand years?”
The Western Region Lord, whose temper was notoriously bad in front of others, was at this moment humble and gentle, entirely in the posture of a junior meeting an elder.
“Reporting to Sect Master Wen…” he said, lowering his head.
Meanwhile, down in the mortal realm below, the disciples of Fumo Mountain now looked at Xu Chaoqi with completely different eyes. Many of them came specially to try to befriend him.
Xu Chaoqi turned no one away, but he kept these relationships only at the surface level.
Song Shuiqing opened his food box, but Xu Chaoqi declined.
Xu Chaoqi lay back and looked up at the sky. “No need—I have to keep my stomach empty, in case my Senior Brother makes something delicious for me.”
Up on the auspicious clouds, the Western Region Lord had already said a great deal, and just as it looked like it was time for him to withdraw, a glint of light flashed in his eyes, and he suddenly said, “I wonder, does the Sect Master still remember the person who set off fireworks in the sky that day?”
Wen Chaoxi’s brush paused slightly. He gazed at the fine lines traced on the painting, his tone difficult to read.
“I remember.”
The Western Region Lord let out a breath of relief, a smile spreading across his face. “That was my unworthy son’s good friend. My son’s victory in this Grand Competition owes much to that person as well.”
Wen Chaoxi’s brows softened, and he added a few more words than usual. “He is indeed exceptionally talented, and quick of wit.”
Seeing that this man could offer such praise for a junior, the Western Region Lord was somewhat astonished.
“He, he truly is extraordinary—a talent that comes along once in ten thousand years.”
Wen Chaoxi made a soft “mm” and glanced toward the chair to the side. The Western Region Lord understood at once—Sect Master Wen meant to keep him a while longer!
His heart gave a leap, thick joy pressing into his mind, and thinking of what he had just said about the matter of Xu Qi, he could only continue on with that topic.
“That Xu Qi is my unworthy son’s friend. It’s rather embarrassing to say, but the first time my son met him, it was because he’d bought a few sheets of talisman paper from Xu Qi. I myself was greatly astonished at the time—the spiritual energy in that talisman paper was far too dense, entirely beyond what an ordinary person could draw…”
The atmosphere within the barrier eased considerably. Though Wen Chaoxi’s expression outwardly remained unreadable, the terrifying pressure that usually surrounded him was gone, as though he had become, for the moment, an ordinary person. Only those pair of eyes remained as deep and unfathomable as ever—no one could see through them, and no one dared to try.
The Western Region Lord continued, “That boy told me not long ago that he’d also entered the Centennial Grand Disciple Competition. I imagine this Xu Qi must be truly outstanding—it’s hard to say how many moves an ordinary person could even withstand against him.”
The Western Region Lord talked on and on, and even as he walked out of the barrier afterward, he still felt somewhat dazed. He couldn’t quite say why, but the words spoken within the barrier just now had felt oddly familiar, somewhat like the feeling he got when boasting to others himself. And yet he also felt as though he hadn’t been the one boasting, but rather the one listening to someone else boast.
The Western Region Lord found this stranger and stranger—those words had clearly all come out of his own mouth!
After the Western Region Lord departed, there was still some time before the Grand Competition would conclude.
Rosy light had already gathered above the clouds. When Wen Chaoxi stepped out, half his profile was cast in a reddish-gold hue.
He left the Southern Immortal Platform ahead of time, and heading toward his residence, his figure gradually faded from sight.
Xu Chaoqi had sat below the stage for the entire day. When the Grand Competition ended, the crowd of figures grew sparse. He said goodbye to Song Shuiqing, intending to pinch a talisman paper to head home, but in the shadows ahead he caught sight of a familiar figure.
A smile bloomed across Xu Chaoqi’s face. He ran over and said in a low voice, “Senior Brother…”
It was as though he could not bear to keep even a single matter weighing on his heart—he couldn’t wait to share his happy news with his Senior Brother.
“I won the Grand Competition today!”
From above came a genuine, heartfelt laugh, and a small food box was held out before him. When he opened it, inside was a box filled to the brim with pastries.
Xu Chaoqi sniffed at it—it was the scent of Biruan fruit. It seemed his Senior Brother had made this specially for him today.
His Senior Brother’s voice was low and deep. “Eat a little first to line your stomach—your victory banquet has already been prepared.”
Xu Chaoqi was naturally overjoyed with surprise, but his eyes still curved into a smile as he asked, “Is there fish?”
His Senior Brother said, “It’s all fish.”
Xiao Yao’s victory banquet was to be an all-fish feast.
In the midst of his joy, Wen Chaoxi caught sight of the torn hem of Xiao Yao’s robe. He pinched the fabric of the disciple’s robe between his fingers and lowered his eyes to look at it.
“When we get back, take off your robe and put it in my room. It shouldn’t take more than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea to have it mended.”
Xu Chaoqi: …
He stiffened slightly, a little bashful.