When the results of the next round’s draw came out, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I said to Yi Fei, "Sister, did you have some kind of karmic entanglement with monks in your past life? You’ve drawn another high-ranking monk!"
The only Buddhist cultivator among the top eight, Zhiding, had been drawn by Yi Fei. She found it somewhat absurd herself. Scratching her cheek, she said sheepishly, "I’ve offended all Three Saint Temples of the Buddhist sects. Sinful, truly sinful... and here I thought I was a devout believer."
Wei Qingming drew the demonic cultivator Tu Tiangang, who had consecutively defeated Lu Lingfeng and Feng Baili. Yan Mingqiu was matched against Zhang Yuande, and He Hong against the rogue cultivator Xiao Yingzong, who had defeated Yu Niannian. Since every match in the top eight was a highlight, they were scheduled sequentially so the entire audience could watch. Wei Qingming and Tu Tiangang were the opening pair.
Although Lu Lingfeng’s motives were often impure, she had helped clear away many of my potential rivals over time, which I considered a great favor. Still resentful that Tu Tiangang had defeated her, I said to Wei Qingming, "Beat him up!"
"Alright," Wei Qingming replied faintly before stepping onto the stage.
Despite his fierce name, Tu Tiangang was actually quite refined. One could tell from his taste in ghosts; the Jade Corpse that had charmed Xiao Gui was undoubtedly a top-tier beauty. The two exchanged polite greetings and announced their names before summoning their tools and setting their formations.
Tu Tiangang was well aware of Wei Qingming’s reputation. Having studied her previous matches, he knew she had used the upright power of the sun as her primary technique to defeat Qiu Zhengshan. Today, he had specially prepared a new vengeful spirit for her. This ghost had been a Daoist disciple in life, refined through eighty-one cruel methods. It was resistant to standard righteous Daoist spells, possessed deep malice, and had been fed until its cultivation reached the peak of the late Cloud-Swallowing stage—equivalent to Wei Qingming’s level. Its ghostly aura was so saturated it seemed ready to burst from its form.
The spirit’s eyes were a pure gold, a sign of the "Ghost Sovereign" rank, indicating high intelligence. However, I wasn't worried at all. Six years ago, when Wei Qingming was only at the mid-Cloud-Swallowing stage, she had slain the far more powerful Xu Xingze. What was there to fear now?
Wei Qingming gave a faint smile. She raised her hand and sent a massive array filled with Yin energy toward the center of the field, covering the entire stage. Everyone was stunned. What did this mean? A welcoming gift? It seemed a bit too friendly.
While the audience was still confused, she leveled her saber and drew a faint, silver, almost transparent veil of spiritual power. Surprisingly, she abandoned the sunlight that suppressed evil and instead chose its complete opposite: moonlight!
Even the members of the Wujing Sect were unaware she practiced a second supreme power, and they looked at one another in surprise. Amidst the growing whispers, Wei Qingming made her move. It was a casual strike, yet it forced the ghost to howl. Instead of retreating, the spirit lunged forward, its claws raking at her blade. It failed to touch her, losing its left arm to her saber instead.
Stung by the pain and stimulated by Wei Qingming’s Yin array, the ghost grew frantic. Tu Tiangang calmly performed a hand seal to regrow the spirit's arm. He began to suspect her intent with the array was to provoke the ghost into a reckless frenzy, clouding its judgment. With a cold sneer, he pressed a finger to his brow, forcing out a drop of heart-blood to merge with the ghost. With their minds linked, the spirit’s intellect would remain unhindered.
Wei Qingming continued her seemingly haphazard strikes, slashing left and parrying right. The beautiful silken veils of moonlight did not dissipate; instead, they wound around the ghost like threads, gradually wrapping it into a cocoon. Yet this mist was incredibly fragile; a single swipe of a ghostly claw could tear it. Strangely, the ghost didn't want to break free. Tu Tiangang, sharing the spirit's senses, clearly felt the ghost was like a fish in water within the moonlight. Its wounds healed even faster, and the environment was overwhelmingly beneficial to his side. He sneered, waiting to see what tricks this self-righteous Daoist disciple could possibly pull.
Those of us below the stage were equally baffled. Even Yan Mingqiu could no longer offer a critique, saying impatiently, "Wei the Third is putting on airs again."
However, Bai Yuyu recognized the nature of the array. "It’s a high-level Yin-Gathering Array. Usually, ghost-tamers carry one to maintain their spirits. Combined with the moonlight, the efficiency of this array is more than ten times higher than a normal one."
Lu Lingfeng nodded, her face expressionless. "I understand now."
Everyone turned to her at once, expecting an explanation. The Second Senior Sister did not disappoint, opening her mouth to say: "I’m not telling."
The crowd erupted in boos. Before we could finish our protest, the ghost on stage began to hoot and howl, seemingly with joy. Its claws suddenly tore through the white cocoon as its ghostly aura surged. A violent Yin wind erupted, and the entire stage filled with black mist so thick it began to drip onto the floor, flowing off the platform in a viscous sludge.
The ghost was evolving! The stage’s protective array only checked the cultivation level of participants at the moment they entered; it did nothing to stop an evolution mid-match. This was how Lu Lingfeng had been able to blow Feng Baili away with her breakthrough... My eyes nearly popped out of my head, and I reflexively grabbed Yu Niannian’s hand. Was Wei Qingming bored of fighting small fry? Did she insist on fighting a Meal-Savoring rank Great Ghost like Xu Xingze? A Yin-Gathering Array, a moonlight saber, and she even proactively gave her opponent an upgrade package!
Tu Tiangang was also stunned, but then he threw his head back and laughed, urging the ghost forward: "Tear him apart!"
Wei Qingming’s lips curled. In a low, husky voice, she spoke a sentence in the Ghost Tongue. Her voice was alluring and raspy, filled with temptation, like the whisper of a demon.
Because the Ghost Tongue is similar to the languages of the Spirit and Spirit-Beast races, I roughly understood those few simple words. She said: "Kill him, and you shall be free!"
The ghost clearly preferred her proposal. After being subjected to eighty-one refinement processes, how could it not harbor resentment toward its master? Malice was the source of its power, and that malice was directed less at its opponent and more at the one who enslaved it!
Tu Tiangang realized the danger too late. The single drop of heart-blood he had offered was enough for a peak Cloud-Swallowing ghost, but it was far from sufficient now. Furthermore, a ghost that exceeded its master’s realm by too much was difficult to control and prone to backlash. The ghost shattered the large drop of heart-blood floating in the air with one palm, then plunged its other hand into Tu Tiangang’s chest.
His protective spiritual light flickered as Tu Tiangang was teleported out of the array. But his mental link with the ghost was severed, and years of hard work vanished in an instant. The backlash was severe; the moment he appeared outside the array, he sprayed blood and fell unconscious.
A moonlight illusion to distract, an accelerated evolution. The Yin array was both a misdirection and the primary cause of the ghost’s breakthrough, while also baiting Tu Tiangang into strengthening the link so the backlash would be even more devastating. This plan was truly elegant and effortless—a series of interlocking steps with no wasted movement. It was a magnificent performance; anyone watching would have to shout their praise!
The ghost remained on the stage. Having lost its master, its intelligence dropped sharply, and it stood there dazed, unsure of what to do.
Wei Qingming casually grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and tossed it off the stage—straight toward Lu Lingfeng. My Second Senior Sister, the only one who had understood her intent from the start, had already picked out a high-grade ancient Nether-Artifact from the gifts Wei Qingming had sent her. With a *clatter*, she captured the ghost, claiming it for her own...
I covered my face. Lord Wei was terrifying. Not only did she defeat her opponent with ease, but she also stripped them of everything... and for the ten-thousandth time, she had sucked up to my "family"!
The Crown Prince and Anchi Nalong naturally couldn't grasp the subtleties. They excitedly pulled at Eunuch Cui to ask questions. Thus, before Wei Qingming could even return to the stands, she was summoned to the royal box. She explained her methods one by one, making the two youngsters laugh and cheer at her brilliance before they finally let her return.
Lord Wei walked back with a dignified facade. Zhu Yixin and Yu Niannian teased her, laughing, "Daoist Wei is quite the ghost-catcher!" I looked helplessly at Lu Lingfeng, who was happily admiring the Nether-Jade wine pot containing her new ghost, occasionally tossing in bits of Yin-filled carrion. I said to Wei Qingming, "You’re really spoiling her. Between what you gave her and what her brother sent, she’s still ages away from a breakthrough, yet she already has three Meal-Savoring ghosts..."
Wei Qingming smiled and leaned in to whisper, "She was the first to personally acknowledge our relationship. Such foresight makes her a worthy matchmaker; of course I must thank her."
I barely managed to restrain myself from rolling my eyes. I wanted to thank my Second Senior Sister too—at least she hadn't shouted "your paramour" in front of everyone on Wujing Sect territory...
By now, the second pair, He Hong and Xiao Yingzong, had flown to the stage. The chatter died down instantly as everyone held their breath, eager to witness the style of the Tianjun Sect’s "Cold-Blooded Goddess of Slaughter."
He Hong wore the same clothes as before, as if she never changed. She held a heavy, blunt bronze saber in its sheath. Her soft, youthful face was calm and indifferent, her eyes vacant as if she were daydreaming. Xiao Yingzong wore a white scholar’s robe; he was handsome, refined, and approachable, carrying a heavy scroll case on his back. He belonged to the rare Pushan Painting School, which fought using the myriad changes within a painting—turning ink into soldiers. The principle involved runes combined with a touch of illusion; the flow of the ink acted as the path for spiritual energy, much like a talisman. The Pushan School was founded three hundred years ago, and a century ago, the sect leader Xiao Xuqi became famous during the Meal-Savoring rank competition at the Tianshan Meet. Since then, Pushan had been known to the world. Xiao Yingzong was his youngest son. Though called a sect, it was essentially just the Xiao family, so he was still considered a rogue cultivator.
Xiao Yingzong offered a polite greeting. He Hong waited with just enough patience for him to finish before she tossed her scabbard aside and struck with a powerful horizontal slash.
Clearly, Xiao Yingzong had researched his potential opponents thoroughly and had a plan. He calmly reached back and pulled a roll of seemingly endless blank silk from his scroll case. Wei Qingming smiled upon seeing it. "To use such silk for combat is a bit of a waste. That is Jiangning Silk from Yuezhou. It is as fine and smooth as a mirror, allowing the brush to glide without resistance. Su Tanru, one of the five great masters, favored it, hence its nickname: Su Silk."
"Su Silk!" I exclaimed. "Merchants call it 'One Foot of Crystal,' meaning a single foot of Su Silk costs at least a foot-sized Grade Two spiritual crystal. Even our Rumeng Inn has no way to source it!" Seeing He Hong’s brutal saber about to slash through that precious silk, my heart bled. This Xiao Yingzong—if he had no better use for such a treasure, he should have just given it to me!
Wei Qingming laughed. "If A-Zhi wants some, there is a way."
I gave the omnipotent Lord Wei a thumbs-up and a chirpy thank you. As it turned out, He Hong’s saber qi struck the delicate silk but did not cut it as expected. The silk was so smooth it actually deflected the force!
Xiao Yingzong was already painting with rapid, fluid strokes. He depicted "Moonlight over Pine Ridges." The dense, vivid green pine needles were lifelike. They filtered He Hong’s equally dense saber qi; no matter how fierce the energy, it dissipated into the wind whistling through the pines. Seeing this, He Hong changed her tactics. She condensed her spiritual power into a thin edge, striking a line of incredibly sharp saber qi directly at Xiao Yingzong’s heart. Xiao Yingzong’s response changed as well. Previously, he used light washes and fine needles; this time, his brush moved in bold, sweeping strokes to paint the "Great Tides of the Yang River." He first enveloped the saber qi within the yielding river water, then used that momentum to strike back, a thousand-foot tide crashing down!
Even Wei Qingming praised his skill. "His lines are as steady as water stains on a wall and as strong as a broken hairpin. His use of ink is perfectly balanced—dry as the autumn wind, yet moist as spring rain. His grasp of light and shadow is top-tier. It is a pity to use such fine paintings for combat."
I teased her for being sentimental. "What’s the pity? If he wins, the painting is preserved!"
"He won't win," Wei Qingming said flatly. "Su Silk is dense and tough, and with the spiritual empowerment of the painting, it is indeed a superior defensive artifact. However, it has one weakness that his opponent has already begun to exploit."
"What weakness?"
"It becomes brittle in the wind and cracks in the cold. It cannot withstand low temperatures."
Sure enough, a chill had begun to emanate from He Hong. Her blade looked as though it were coated in a layer of mid-winter frost, turning icy and white. No matter how fast Xiao Yingzong’s brush moved, he was a magic cultivator; his speed could not match the raw, violent movement of a martial cultivator. Every time a freezing gust of saber wind struck the silk, Xiao Yingzong’s brushwork grew more sluggish. The once-smooth lines began to show tiny, microscopic ink clumps. In the jargon of painters, this was known as "hitching the horse"—a fatal flaw for an artist.
Finally, He Hong’s saber shattered the "Ten Suns in the Sky" scroll that was still taking shape. Xiao Yingzong had intended to use the legend of Hou Yi shooting the suns to heat and save the brittle Su Silk, but he was too late. He Hong’s saber qi was like a rainbow piercing the sun. The silk was torn in half, and Xiao Yingzong was teleported out of the array.
"Good," Wei Qingming said with a squinting smile. "She has finally been forced to reveal the elemental attribute of her cultivation technique."
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 智定 | Zhiding | A Buddhist monk in the top eight. |
| 屠天罡 | Tu Tiangang | A demonic cultivator who uses ghosts. |
| 萧英纵 | Xiao Yingzong | A cultivator from the Pushan Painting School. |
| 浦山画派 | Pushan Painting School | A cultivation sect/family that uses painting as a medium for combat. |
| 萧虚奇 | Xiao Xuqi | The famous leader of the Pushan Painting School. |
| 苏绢 | Su Silk | A high-quality silk used for painting and defense; also known as Jiangning Silk. |
| 江宁绢 | Jiangning Silk | Another name for Su Silk, produced in Yuezhou. |
| 苏昙如 | Su Tanru | One of the five great masters of painting. |
| 一尺晶 | One Foot of Crystal | A slang term for the high price of Su Silk. |
| 鬼语 | Ghost Tongue | The language used to communicate with or command spirits. |
| 谢媒 | Matchmaker's Gift | Literally "thanking the matchmaker"; refers to the reward given to Lu Lingfeng. |
| 阳江大潮 | Great Tides of the Yang River | A painting technique/subject used by Xiao Yingzong. |
| 十日经天 | Ten Suns in the Sky | A painting technique/subject used by Xiao Yingzong. |
