The advancement rounds were split over two days. On the first day, the lots were drawn to determine the pairings. Half of the white jade arenas were removed, and the elders of various sects took their places on the smaller peaks surrounding Mount Yunchun to observe. The Crown Prince arrived as well, seated beside Princess Anchi Nalong of the neighboring kingdom. The two had recently become playmates, chatting and laughing in perfect harmony.
For the sects involved in the top thirty-two, a senior representative from each went onstage to draw lots. Since three of us from the Mountain of Old Dreams were competing, Lu Kaifeng naturally went on our behalf. Representing the Wujing Sect was Cang Jiang, while Zheng Tongfu and Wei Yi’an stood for the Tianjun and Moyu Sects, respectively. Several old monks and various demon lords and ladies also took the stage. The rogue cultivators were represented by Daoist Zhuang Mingxu, one of the top ten strongest rogue cultivators currently within the borders of Great Jing, who handled the drawing for them.
As soon as the results were announced, Yu Niannian clutched her chest and let out a long sigh of relief. "It’s just an unremarkable rogue cultivator. That should be easy enough." Yi Fei, however, had drawn a monk named Yuan Zheng from the Great Wisdom Temple, the third sacred temple of Buddhism. He was at the late stage of the Cloud-Swallowing Realm and had previously ranked thirteenth in points—a formidable opponent. She lowered her head in silence. Seeing her delicate, graceful demeanor, Yu Niannian and I exchanged a smile; perhaps even a grand monk would find his heart softened by such a beautiful woman?
Wei Qingming drew a disciple from the Tianjun Sect whose cultivation and martial skills were far inferior to hers; there was no suspense there. Zhang Yuande was matched against a member of the Demon Sect, while Lu Lingfeng and Qiao Songlin were also paired with demonic cultivators. The opponents for Duan Hongyun, Feng Baili, and the others were generally no match for them. The most anticipated match was between Yan Mingqiu and Guan Shanping—meaning one of the top disciples of the two great Daoist sects wouldn't even make it into the top sixteen. Only we knew there was nothing worth watching there. Ever since Qiao Songlin had wrecked his reputation that day, Guan Shanping had rushed his healing and made a grand, noisy comeback, defeating a few tough opponents to save some face. But in our eyes, he had already fallen leagues behind and wasn't even worth considering.
As for me... perhaps I had spent so much time praying not to face Wei Qingming that I forgot to pray for anything else. My luck was truly "heaven-defying"—I drew the Great Killing God of the Tianjun Sect, He Hong.
Upon seeing the result, Wei Qingming immediately flew over from the peak where the Wujing Sect elders were gathered. She gently stroked my hair and offered a soft, three-word consolation: "Fight with everything." Her meaning was clear: she wasn't afraid of me losing, but if He Hong dared to harm a single hair on my head, she would twist He Hong's head off right there in the arena.
In contrast, she had a bit more to say regarding Qiao Songlin’s opponent. "Wang Binbai hails from the Lihe Valley. His soul-snatching techniques are ruthless. As long as you don't die, there is a chance for a turnaround. Brother, be careful."
"I understand."
Wei Qingming then gave us several protective treasures. The three of us didn't stand on ceremony and accepted them all. Having already mastered the gifts from Sifu and Eldest Brother, I spent the evening testing the items Wei Qingming gave me to understand their properties before falling into a peaceful sleep.
The next day, my match and Wei Qingming’s were scheduled at different times, allowing us to accompany each other to the arenas. I finally saw He Hong in person. she wore the standard Tianjun Sect Daoist robe in cyan with orchid embroidery. Despite her fiery name, she was silent and unsmiling, possessing an extremely cold and solemn aura. She didn't even follow the etiquette of exchanging names; before I could introduce myself, she lunged forward with a fierce, heavy slash of her blade. She used a broadsword similar in design to Feng Baili’s, which made her soft, bun-like little face look exceptionally innocent... what a fierce loli.
To be honest, I had gathered plenty of intelligence and knew this was her temperament. Without a word, I threw out the Great Array within the Mirror that I had been holding ready and unsheathed my sword to meet her.
He Hong’s moves were savage and coarse, certainly not like a hothouse flower carefully cultivated by a sect. Instead, she seemed like a wandering mercenary who made a living by killing. I couldn't discern any specific martial lineage; I only felt a succession of wild, hacking blows, accompanied by gusts of fierce wind that made it hard to breathe. At first glance, it looked like the kind of unrefined mess that would earn a scolding from Nie Xueqing, but in reality, every strike was lethal. If she said she would cleave you in one blow, she definitely wouldn't need a second.
In the face of absolute strength, any clever trick is blown away like dust. That I managed to trade over a dozen blows with her was entirely due to pushing my illusions and movement techniques to their absolute limits, combined with the defensive array within my mirror reflecting several fatal blade-lights. Otherwise, I would have been defeated within five moves.
However, she quickly figured out my patterns. Ignoring the array's core entirely, she delivered three horizontal slashes that shattered my formation. One strike broke the array, while the other two targeted me. I couldn't even spare a hand to replenish the spiritual energy to maintain it.
By the twentieth move, He Hong grew impatient. She pulled back and thrust her blade toward my abdomen with gathered strength. Judging by her movement, she intended to instinctively twist her wrist upon impact to disembowel me. Had I not been wearing a pile of defensive gear so heavy it nearly hindered my footwork, that lightning-fast thrust would have killed me before the arena’s array could even register the injury.
Fortunately, the protective light flared up just in time, immediately teleporting me out of the arena. I was caught steadily in Wei Qingming’s arms. Aside from that final thrust, the other blows had only grazed my clothes or shattered my defensive charms without wounding my flesh.
When in a state of combat, one doesn't feel much, but upon stepping down, I realized my limbs were weak and numb, as if they had been fried in oil and then soaked in boiling water. It was a combination of total exhaustion from overextending my true essence and the sheer terror of being suppressed by my opponent's aura. If Wei Qingming hadn't been holding me, I would have certainly collapsed. Dizziness washed over me, and my vision went dark. I wanted to speak to her, but I couldn't even draw enough breath to exhale.
Wei Qingming circled one arm around my waist while the other gently fed me several Qi-replenishing pills. She touched my face to confirm I was unharmed before casting a murderous, battle-hungry gaze toward He Hong.
He Hong seemed oblivious to everything. She sat down on the stage, clutching her blade and lowering her head to brood over her own thoughts. She didn't seem to fully understand the rules, acting as if she still had to defend the stage, and didn't spare us a single glance. Wei Qingming picked me up in a bridal carry and gracefully departed.
My friends swarmed over to offer comfort. Having regained some strength, I leaned against Wei Qingming and stuck out my tongue with a grin. "I'm fine, I'm fine! Being able to hold out for half a incense stick's time is already quite an achievement!"
"Exactly!" Yu Niannian added quickly. "I haven't seen more than a few people last three moves against her in the past seven days. Sister Azhi went back and forth with her for twenty rounds, and you're even a minor realm lower than her!"
Even Yan Xiangjun chimed in: "Damaged defensive gear is worth nothing as long as you aren't hurt. I'll find some better ones for Sister Su another day."
Zhu Yixin’s praise was very sincere: "Azhi is just amazing! If it were me, I would have been... been scared shitless!" She had intended to use a cruder expression but changed it at the last second, mindful of the refined company present.
Wei Qingming handed me over to my friends and said, "It's my turn."
I wanted to follow her to watch her match, but she looked back with a smile. "There's nothing to see. Have a cup of tea and wait for me to return."
The girls practically forced me to sit down, busily wiping my sweat and handing me tea. Yan Xiangjun even smilingly fed me pastries, all of them insisting I stay put. If I wanted to watch, I had to watch the images projected on the sky-curtains.
Currently, only four arenas were in use, with four sky-curtains displaying the battles. Besides Wei Qingming, several other friends were in the middle of their fights. Bai Yuyu was using his arrays to slowly wear down a heavily defensive Buddhist cultivator, a sight that made people drowsy. Lu Lingfeng, accompanied by her two ghosts, was locked in a fierce struggle with a Demon Sect disciple who controlled corpses. That arena was a mess of foul air; while others' curtains sparkled with spiritual light, hers looked like a lump of charcoal, to the point where her white robes were barely visible.
In truth, the contestants appearing on the second day weren't exceptionally strong. Aside from He Hong, Wei Qingming was the most interesting participant to watch. She stepped onto the stage unhurriedly and announced her name with her usual poise. Her opponent was actually one of the Tianjun Sect disciples from the Wujing Sect who knew her well. Unlike Guan Shanping’s branch from Jiangdu, this person was from the orthodox main sect in Anjing. They had always been resentful of this branch disciple who had stolen the spotlight from the main house. However, the friction between Wei Qingming and Guan Shanping hadn't diminished this person's one-sided admiration for her in the slightest.
As it turned out, after Wei Qingming politely stated her name, she unsheathed her sword and—*shua*—sent the opponent, who was still hoping to get closer and make friends, flying right out of the arena.
Everyone had been expecting a refined, poetic display of skill. The Crown Prince had even stood up nervously to get a closer look, but before his knees were even straight, Wei Qingming was already stepping off the stage.
"So... so cool!" The Prince’s small face was flushed with excitement as he stood tall and shouted, "I want to learn that!"
Even Eunuch Cui couldn't help but chuckle. "The sight of Third Young Master Wei in such a hurry is truly rare. I must tell Master Feng about this later..."
Sect Leader Lyu and Cang Jiang, who were attending nearby, exchanged a glance and a smile. Cang Jiang shook his head and laughed. "This child really gives no face at all. When Xingjian sees me, I'll have to endure another round of mockery."
"Punish her by adding more sect contribution hours this year."
"Indeed."
Wei Qingming had no idea that following the Purity Pavilion, the Divine Firmament Hall had also increased her mandatory task hours—hours that couldn't be exchanged for sect credits. In the future, her duties wouldn't just be elegant and easy tasks like tending to flowers; she would inevitably have to patrol in the freezing winds of the northern winter nights.
Soon, she sat back down beside me with a calm expression, taking Zhu Yixin’s place. Because Qiao Songlin’s match was at a critical point, Fifth Sister had already rushed to the edge of his arena to keep watch.
The situation there was truly dire. Qiao Songlin and Wang Binbai had reached a stalemate of soul power. Whoever lost would suffer devastating mental damage, and the protective spiritual light might not even trigger, as the grand array wouldn't necessarily judge becoming a vegetable as a life-threatening event.
The two had equal cultivation and similar temperaments. Fourth Brother was more like "still waters running deep," meeting all changes with stillness. Wang Binbai, however, was as gloomy as a water ghost lurking at the bottom of a lake, waiting for his prey to be completely submerged in the dark, toxic swamp before sucking their essence dry. Their techniques shared commonalities—both focused on cultivating soul power—but Wang Binbai specialized in soul-snatching, which was more proactive and ruthless. In comparison, our Mountain of Old Dreams' illusions dealt more indirect and passive damage, putting us at a natural disadvantage.
Deep red blood began to seep from the corners of Qiao Songlin’s eyes, snaking down his pale, thin face. Clearly, his soul power was failing, and he was only holding on by sheer will. Though Wang Binbai was also suffering, he still had the strength to let out a cold sneer. He raised his sleeve and released a lethal soul-piercing needle, intending to end this grueling duel.
Zhu Yixin froze. I was so anxious I was about to cry. In that instant, we all realized that he—the one who was like a mountain we could always lean on—could also be hurt, could also fall.
Her thoughts were naturally far more chaotic than mine. Subconsciously, she murmured a name: "Songlin..."
She almost never called him by his name. Usually, she would summon him at a whim, demanding this or that, ordering him around. When they were younger, she would occasionally call him "Brother," but now it was always "that person" or "this guy." This soft call was incredibly faint, just a momentary movement of her lips. Even if one were standing right next to her, they wouldn't have heard it. Yet, it was filled with a tenderness and heartache that reached the depths of the soul.
Frantic, I started to rush toward him while crying, but Wei Qingming reached out and gently caught me. She comforted me, saying, "Don't worry. Fourth Brother won't lose."
Just as Zhu Yixin finished her silent call, Qiao Songlin suddenly snapped his blood-red eyes open. His body blurred, vanishing from his spot and causing the soul-piercing needle to strike empty air. An instant later, blade-qi surged and white light flared. Wang Binbai was teleported out of the array, vomiting a cloud of foul, black blood before fainting.
It turned out he knew his opponent’s soul-snatching technique would be hard to resist, so he had prepared a fail-safe mechanism long ago. Her Clear Heart Mirror and his own Clear Heart Tripod were forged from the same materials in the same furnace; he had set her voice as the key trigger to awaken his soul. He knew that if he were truly in danger and his soul was snatched, unable to break free on his own, she would surely cry out in distress. He had always lived for those calls of hers, even the ones where she never used his name...
Their natal treasures floated side by side in the air, separated by the arena’s array, humming in resonance.
His eyes were filled with blood, and he could no longer see. In his blood-red world, her red dress was still so bright and dazzling. He didn't need to see to know what her expression would be, or how her tears would sparkle, reflecting the midday sun.
Zhu Yixin threw her arms around him, frantically pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the foul blood from his face. Qiao Songlin casually tore a piece of his black robe and tied it over his eyes to hide the gruesome sight.
"I'll lead you." Zhu Yixin hurriedly covered his hand with one of hers while wrapping her other arm around his waist. "There are five steps. This is the first one. Go slowly..."
I covered my face and laughed out loud with joy. But as I laughed, I found myself unable to stop crying.
***
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