Chapter 409 - 214: Each Their Own Path

Chapter 409: Chapter 214: Each Their Own Path

Wu Qing, who was healing, was the first to come to her senses. Her breathing had mostly stabilized after taking an elixir, and her gaze now followed Yang Wenqing’s figure.

「Three years ago.」

She had sparred with this junior brother, who had only recently joined the Xuanyue Sect, and had been able to firmly suppress him.

But today, three years later, the power this junior brother had just unleashed made her see him in a completely new light. Moreover, she had clearly sensed that the force he’d unleashed had affected the physical world—the cultivation of a master at the Great Perfection of the Marrow Cleansing Third Transformation.

But according to the information she had, this junior brother’s cultivation was only at the Marrow Cleansing Second Transformation.

Wu Qing thought back to her own cultivation at the age of thirty-two and couldn’t help but feel a sting of indignation. The other members of the younger generation more or less felt the same way.

She watched quietly as Yang Wenqing walked over to the Xuanyue seating area. The Blue-feathered Night Owl fluttered joyfully into his arms, Sun Chen took the rare initiative to approach and say something, and Gu You laughed loudly as he clapped him on the shoulder.

On the other side, Lin Xiyun had already put away his Myriad Phenomena Celestial Disc and was inspecting a very faint scratch on the compass’s edge. It was a mark left behind when the twenty-fifth sword gleam had grazed it moments before.

He gently traced the scratch with the pad of his finger, his touch as light as if he were polishing a fragile treasure.

The information he received a month ago was that this junior brother was in the late stage of the Marrow Cleansing Second Transformation and specialized in the Sword Control Technique. He had believed it.

When he’d said "let’s make this quick" just now, it hadn’t been a platitude, but the truth. He had wanted to let Junior Brother Yang save face, yet in the end, he was the one who had to shamefully concede defeat.

He put away the compass and raised his eyes toward the Xuanyue seating area.

Yang Wenqing was tilting his head, listening to something Gu You was saying. The Blue-feathered Night Owl on his shoulder was smugly rubbing against his cheek. Lin Xiyun suddenly smiled, a smile devoid of resentment, containing only the joy of having met a worthy opponent.

"It was a fair loss,"

he murmured.

Shi Zheng was still silently wiping his broad-bladed short saber, his gaze never leaving Yang Wenqing. In his eyes, steady as rock, a rare ripple of emotion appeared.

The Five-Colored Sparrow sensed the faint stir in its master’s heart and chirped softly, tilting its head to nuzzle his ear. Shi Zheng raised a hand and stroked the bird’s back feathers with his rough fingertips, the motion identical to when he wiped his blade.

"Mm."

He grunted in a low voice, as if responding to the Spirit Bird, or perhaps to himself.

Chen Yuan quietly glanced at the expressions of his senior brother and senior sister, then shifted his gaze to Yang Wenqing, whose cheek was being nuzzled by Lan Ying.

Leng Zhi looked at neither Lin Xiyun nor Yang Wenqing. She simply lowered her eyelids, forcing that faint ripple of emotion back into the deepest recesses of her eyes.

’Thirty-two years old, Fourth Transformation.’

’She was thirty-nine, had been in the sect for thirty-two years, and was only at the late stage of the Fourth Transformation.’

’It wasn’t jealousy.’

’It was just...’

"Senior Sister."

Lin Xiyun’s voice sounded beside her, as gentle as ever, as if he weren’t the one who had just shamefully conceded defeat. He had already put his compass away, and his usual composure had returned to his expression.

Leng Zhi didn’t turn her head, just gave a soft "Mm" in response.

Lin Xiyun didn’t seem to mind, continuing, "The next match is you against Senior Brother Shi Zheng, isn’t it?"

Leng Zhi nodded lightly.

"Senior Brother Shi Zheng..." Lin Xiyun paused, his tone laced with consideration. "Senior Sister, be extra careful."

Leng Zhi still didn’t look at him, only replying coolly, "I know."

Lin Xiyun smiled and said no more, turning his gaze to the arena. Qin Huaiming had already walked forward and announced, "Third match: Leng Zhi of Yunji versus Shi Zheng of the Beixuan Sect. Combatants, enter the ring."

Leng Zhi stood up, her steps still steady, her expression still cold and detached.

Shi Zheng also stood. He gripped the sheathless, broad-bladed short saber in his hand, gave a slight nod to Lei Yue, and then strode toward the arena.

The two of them came to a stop in the center of the arena, ten zhang apart.

The lingering remnants of Spiritual Qi from the previous fierce battle had not yet dissipated from the air. Leng Zhi raised her eyes to see Shi Zheng’s face opposite her, as silent and impassive as stone.

"I ask for your guidance, Senior Sister Leng."

"Please."

As their voices fell, the third match began.

Shi Zheng held the saber with both hands, its edge angled toward the ground. He sank into a low horse stance, exuding an almost stubborn, condensed aura. He looked like a reef rooted a thousand feet deep, unmoving no matter how the raging waves crashed against it.

Leng Zhi formed a sword seal with her left hand. The sword box at her waist vibrated lightly, and a beam of jade-green sword light, like a flowing cloud emerging from a mountain peak, spiraled silently upward.

The sword light split into two phantoms: one, an aquamarine hue like spring water; the other, a deep green like ancient wood. This was the interweaving flow of water and wood auras, trailing a long ribbon of light through the air. This was Leng Zhi’s Flowing Clouds Splitting Light Sword, a technique that excelled not in sharp, overpowering attacks, but in gradual infiltration through dense, entangling layers.

Shi Zheng still did not move.

Then, with a flip of his left wrist, a palm-sized ancient bronze mirror appeared before him. The mirror’s surface was simple and unadorned, its edges engraved with cloud and lightning patterns. The mirror was named Zhige. Its light expanded, forming a thick, pale-gold barrier, like an inverted golden bell, that sealed off the three-zhang radius around him completely.

At that moment, Leng Zhi’s sword light arrived.

The jade-green sword light touched the golden barrier and slid away silently, like water flowing over stone. But the light did not dissipate; it flowed along the barrier’s surface, seeking a crack to seep through.

Shi Zheng’s expression remained unchanged. He kept his right hand on his saber, still gathering power, while his left hand pressed forward through the air. Ripples instantly spread across the golden barrier’s surface, repelling all of the sword light that was trying to penetrate it.

A grave expression flickered in Leng Zhi’s eyes.

Her Flowing Clouds Splitting Light Sword was named for its ability to split light, and its greatest strength was division. At this moment, the sword light suddenly split: one became two, two became four, four became eight...

In an instant, sixteen beams of jade-green sword light assaulted Shi Zheng simultaneously from all directions. Some lunged straight ahead, some swept in from the sides, and some even slithered silently along the ground, aiming for his lower body.