Another familiar explosion.
Another familiar crater.
This time, though, with two senior brothers shielding her bodily, Li Yu was not blasted unconscious on the spot.
Not that she fared much better.
She even lost a defensive spirit artifact to the blast.
The three of them crawled out of the crater in tattered disarray.
The Suiyun Third and Fifth Senior Brothers' faces were beyond ugly.
Even the longswords in their hands radiated frigid sword qi.
But Ning Ruan was long gone.
All that remained was a ring of strange, stunned stares.
"How could she... how could she..."
Li Yu's eyes rimmed red.
The tears fell and would not stop.
Twice now.
This was the second time she'd been blown sky-high in front of a crowd.
"Little Sister, she won't come to a good end. None of us will ever let her go." The Third Senior Brother tenderly wiped Li Yu's tears away.
That woman was simply too hateful.
Humiliating their Little Sister again and again — if they didn't put her down, Little Sister might carry the shadow of this for the rest of her life.
...
Li Yu's "shadow," meanwhile, had just accompanied Pei Jingyu to the Spirit Martial Pavilion to collect a mountain of freely harvested spirit stones.
Ning Ruan's heart was a windless lake.
Pei Jingyu's grin nearly split his face in half.
The moment they returned to Invincible Peak.
He burst out in wonder:
"I never dreamed such blessings existed. This is literally picking money off the ground. May it happen many, many more times."
Ning Ruan: ...
A blessing, certainly.
One man's joy, a hundred men's despair.
"No one will underestimate you again, though, Fourth Senior Brother. If you take the stage now, your odds will drop."
"Will they? No matter. Next time we send Old Third up." Pei Jingyu stroked his chin with a crooked finger, apparently giving the plan's feasibility serious thought.
Then he paused.
Something else had occurred to him. "Little Sister, why didn't you bet today?"
Ning Ruan lifted her eyes. "I'm not short on spirit stones."
Pei Jingyu felt a knife slide quietly into his heart.
Then her voice sounded again:
"Although — if you'd let me heal your injuries, Senior Brother...
then any time you take the stage, I'll bet on you to win."
But I'm not injured, so what exactly is this obsession of yours with healing people... Pei Jingyu couldn't help rolling his eyes:
"Little Sister, you literally just said my odds will drop. Betting on me won't earn you much."
Ning Ruan's expression was solemn. "I'm not short on spirit stones."
Pei Jingyu: ...
Yes, yes, of course. You're rich. You're amazing.
"Little Sister, if you truly want to heal someone, go find Fifth Junior Brother and Seventh Junior Brother.
Did you forget? They sparred too enthusiastically and wounded each other. They're still recuperating right now."
Ning Ruan froze.
For once, Fourth Senior Brother had said something genuinely useful.
Pei Jingyu seemed to remember one more thing, and his tone turned unusually earnest:
"Oh — and another matter.
Little Sister, next time those Suiyun Peak head cases come at you, come get me.
Your senior brother will sort them out for you.
All you need to do is hand over those exploding toys of yours.
Something that fine, wasted on THEM? Criminal."
Ning Ruan blinked, uncomprehending:
"It's not wasted. I have plenty of Thunderclap Bombs."
Pei Jingyu: ...
...
Pei Jingyu had become famous in a single battle.
Famous alongside him: the deep crater below the challenge stage.
And the name "Invincible Peak," which he and Ning Ruan kept insisting on, over and over.
Before the match, the word "Invincible" had been a punchline.
After the match... the Xueyang Peak direct disciples' swagger suddenly seemed entirely reasonable.
Of course, the skeptics existed too.
For instance:
"Who knows what unspeakable dirty tricks that Xueyang Peak lot used?
Beating Senior Brother Shi in under half a quarter-hour — do you honestly believe that?"
"Exactly. Even the Ten Great Prodigies sparring among themselves could never settle a match that fast."
"Speaking of which — did none of you notice? When Senior Brother Shi got knocked off the stage by that summoned beast, he didn't move a muscle.
There's something hidden there, guaranteed. The man's a sword cultivator. He can't have been too scared of a summoned beast to move, surely?"
The skepticism didn't circulate for long.
Because the very next day.
Pei Jingyu — fresh off his glorious "great war" — appeared at the challenge stage again.
This time the opponent was another peak's direct disciple, though not one of the Ten Great Prodigies.
The outcome should have been beyond doubt.
And yet, this particular match... Pei Jingyu lost.
Only after at least two hours of dead-even combat did he finally go down.
As the opponent trudged away looking utterly deflated —
the skeptical voices swelled louder and louder.
"Tsk. I said it from the start. That Xueyang Peak direct disciple has some skill, maybe.
But nothing close to Senior Brother Shi. That first win? Who knows what trick he pulled."
"Poor Senior Brother Shi. All that strength — he never should have lost at all."
"No, I'M the tragic one here. Why did the Xueyang guy lose THIS time?
How could he lose?! I put half my fortune on him to win! How could he just LOSE?"
"I was wrong. I never should have believed in Senior Brother Pei. I actually thought he was that strong. Fifty mid-grade spirit stones. FIFTY. All gone!"
"..."
As for the doubts — Shi Xunyang, the party concerned, offered no explanation.
His silence read as confirmation of every rumor.
The other party concerned... was currently lying atop a mountain of spirit stones, grinning too wide to close his mouth.
Ning Ruan had more or less deduced what Pei Jingyu was up to.
And sure enough.
The next day, he mounted the challenge stage again.
This time, the opponent was one of the Ten Great Prodigies.
The disciple body — now thoroughly convinced Pei Jingyu's real strength was mediocre — bet on him to lose in one great unanimous wave.
And then... another human tragedy.
Pei Jingyu won...
For days afterward, Pei Jingyu kept trotting back to the challenge stages.
With every apparent intention of not stopping until his arms were sore from raking in spirit stones.
As for Ning Ruan.
With the Eldest Senior Brother brokering introductions, she finally met the two senior brothers who had been healing in seclusion.
Fifth Senior Brother, Liang Xiuxiu: delicate, refined features with a distinct edge of cuteness; his little face went pink the moment he saw people, and everything about him radiated timidity.
He also appeared to be somewhat socially anxious — after a stammered "L-Little Sister," he kept his head bowed and did not dare speak again.
Seventh Senior Brother, Yan Liang, was his exact opposite: a clean-cut, handsome face wearing an unmistakable air of I am invincible under heaven, chin tilted slightly upward, arms folded around his sword.
His opening line:
"A light-element spirit master? Weak as you are, if anyone bullies you in the future, you may report it to me."
Ning Ruan: ...
Well, thank you SO much.
Seeing Ning Ruan say nothing, Seventh Senior Brother frowned faintly — apparently sensing his previous remark had been somewhat improper — and clarified:
"I did not mean to speak the truth out loud."
Ning Ruan: ...
Seventh Senior Brother's frown deepened until it could have crushed a fly:
"I bear no ill will. I simply cannot lie. You are, in fact, very weak."
Ning Ruan: ...
The urge to seal that mouth shut — what was she supposed to do with it?
Seventh Senior Brother spoke yet again: "Still, you possess perhaps one-tenth of my intelligence. You knew to carry a sword casket and pass yourself off as a sword cultivator."
Ning Ruan: ...