The youth scratched his head, asking in confusion, "Sister Xiuxiu, what is wrong with Senior Sister Gong?" Fang Xiuxiu tilted her head in thought, then after a moment, gave up with a helpless wave of her hand, "Forget it, let's not think about it. Let's order first. Do you want anything else to eat?" "Yes, yes!" The youth nodded eagerly, giggling, "I don't have enough money; I only ordered two dishes." "You truly are a bottomless pit!" Xiuxiu laughed sweetly. The youth scratched his head, chuckling, yet not annoyed, and quickly gestured for the waiter. After ordering the food, he asked curiously, "Sister Xiuxiu, what is going on between Senior Sister Gong and Senior Brother Zhanran? ... It seems very strange." "Strange how?" Xiuxiu asked. The youth tilted his head, wrinkling his brow in distress, "I can't quite say! ... It seems... it seems Senior Sister Gong cares a lot about Senior Brother Zhanran." Xiuxiu shot him a look, "Nonsense! ... In our Mei Residence's Seven Academies, only Zhanran can truly match wits with Senior Sister. Of course she cares!" "Mmm..., Senior Brother Zhanran's sword is so fast!" The youth nodded, full of admiration and respect. Xiuxiu tapped his forehead, "You, focus on your training, stop getting punished! Have some ambition; you must surpass him!" "That'll be difficult..." The youth looked miserable, but seeing Xiuxiu's almond eyes widen, he quickly nodded, "Okay, okay, I'll work hard..."

Li Muzhan walked along the mountain path, foregoing his swift movement techniques. His pace was unhurried and steady, each step firmly placed. A full, jade-like moon hung in the sky, its clear radiance diffused far and wide by the night wind. A smile suddenly bloomed on his face—one of boundless joy, tranquility, and benevolence, as if he had achieved a sudden enlightenment. Walking the familiar mountain track, observing the exquisite night scenery around him, his heart settled into profound peace. The night wind was gentle, cool, and moist, causing his pores to open instantly. The Tianyuan Breathing Technique began to circulate naturally. All his pores opened, feeling the cool night breeze caress his skin. With every exhale and inhale, his pores expanded and contracted, radiating a gentle warmth deep in his Dantian. When he came back to his senses, he realized with a start that he had been cultivating the Tianyuan Breathing Technique while walking! In a moment, he understood: this was due to the formation of the perfect sphere within him. Previously, cultivating the Tianyuan Breathing Technique required sitting meditation, completely sinking his consciousness into a state of deep focus to unify with Heaven and Earth and draw in the primal energies. Having grasped the introductory principles of the Tianshen Zhaojing, his comprehension of Heaven and Earth deepened another step, clarifying why his seated meditation immediately achieved perfection, allowing him to unify with the cosmos. The method of Chanding (meditative concentration) has two paths: static and dynamic. Achieving true stillness while moving is the most difficult; even at his initial Chanzhen (First Concentration) level, he couldn't manage it. Now that the perfect sphere was formed, he could naturally achieve stillness while moving. How could he not be overjoyed?

His Heart Lake was calm, without ripples, devoid of thought or worry. He focused solely on his pores. With every breath out and in, his pores opened and closed, and streams of cool energy seeped in, like absorbing moonlight, filling his Dantian with warmth. After walking for a while, he ceased the Tianyuan Breathing Technique and tried cultivating the Six Meridians True Sutras, starting with Shaoyang, then Shaoyang again... finally reaching the Taiyang True Sutra. The smile on his lips grew broader. Indeed, the flow of the Six Meridians True Sutras was fluid and seamless, no different from sitting in meditation, as long as he maintained the utter stillness of his Heart Lake. Lost in his joy, he unknowingly arrived at the mountaintop. He stopped, looking down the slope behind him. Under the soft moonlight, the winding path leading down the mountain was crooked like an intestine, largely obscured by the dense forest. A mysterious smile suddenly appeared on his face. His vital energy (Zhenqi) surged within him, lively as a bead, showing no trace of injury whatsoever! This was all part of the elaborate setup he had orchestrated. He had seen Fang Shaohua during the Minor Competition and sensed his arrogant disposition and ruthless methods; he was certainly talented. Face-to-face, Li Muzhan saw him even more clearly: this man was patient yet vicious, petty-minded, and someone who would seek vengeance for the slightest offense—a venomous snake whose enmity would bring endless trouble once provoked. Rather than constantly being on guard against future harm, it was better to cut the root. His mindset was detached from the mundane. Though he appeared affectionate, at his core, he was merciless, understanding the mysteries of life and death. Killing someone was merely sending them on their way; it was not a great matter. Thus, he made a swift decision. Taking advantage of the moment he acted, he feigned injury, calculating that Fang Shaohua would certainly pursue him.

He shuddered violently and began coughing, a series of racking spasms that left him sinking weakly onto the grass, gasping heavily, as if his injuries had relapsed and become critical. With difficulty, he crossed his legs and closed his eyes, sitting silently to regulate his breathing. A moment later, he suddenly turned his head, looking towards the southern woods. Amidst the rustling sounds, two figures emerged slowly from the shadows. In the bright moonlight, the leader stood ramrod straight, his eyes sharp as an eagle's—it was Fang Shaohua, the head of Kaiyang Academy. Fang Shaohua stepped slowly over the thick, soft fallen leaves until he reached Li Muzhan's vicinity. Moonlight illuminated his face, which was expressionless, cold as iron; only the eyes glittered with sharp intelligence. Following him was a youth with a pale face and a frail build, looking as if a mere gust of wind could blow him away. This youth was visibly excited, his eyes gleaming as if looking at delicious prey. He let out a sneer, "Zhanran, what happened to you?" Li Muzhan smiled, "Head Prefect Fang, we meet again." "Hmm, why are you just sitting there?" Fang Shaohua asked coldly. The youth snickered, "Get up! Why aren't you so imposing now? ... The four fellows from Tianshu Academy aren't here to back you up!" Li Muzhan smiled, "Head Prefect Fang, what business brings you here in the dead of night?" "Waiting for you!" Fang Shaohua said coldly. "Oh—?" Li Muzhan smiled faintly, nodding, "Waiting for me for what? Don't tell me you intend to kill me?" The youth chuckled, "Exactly, exactly! ... Out here in the wilderness, kill a man, toss him in the woods, and the wolves will have him eaten by morning. Who would ever find him?" Li Muzhan didn't even look at him, shaking his head, "Head Prefect Fang, if you kill me, Senior Brother and the others will immediately suspect you. How could they let this rest?" "Them?" Fang Shaohua shook his head, his lip curling slightly. Having been ignored until now, the youth became irritated and shouted angrily, "If they behave themselves, fine. If they cause trouble, I'll kill them to keep you company!" Li Muzhan still didn't look at him, smiling pleasantly at Fang Shaohua, "Head Prefect Fang hides his abilities well; what is your true intention?" The youth's face contorted into a savage mask, fueled by extreme anger. He felt like a performing clown. He particularly enjoyed the cat-and-mouse game—torturing his victim until they broke down before finally killing them, which was more satisfying. But this Zhanran was so infuriating that the roles seemed reversed! "Clang..." The long sword left its sheath. He towered over Li Muzhan, grinding his teeth, "Zhanran, stop wasting time with nonsense! A delaying tactic is useless! ... Senior Brother Fang, why use an ox-cleaver to kill a chicken? Let me dispatch him!" "...Mmm." Fang Shaohua stared at Li Muzhan for a moment, then nodded slowly. "My name is Zhao Wufang, remember that—!" The youth's eyes spewed fire as he thrust his sword out fiercely. "Uh..." A flash of sword light, a muffled grunt from the youth, who stared at Li Muzhan in stunned disbelief, slowly lowering his gaze. A small hole was weeping blood on his left chest, the crimson jet shooting out three feet. Li Muzhan remained cross-legged, his long sword resting across his lap, watching Fang Shaohua with a slight smile, his breathing just a touch rougher. Fang Shaohua's eyes were like an eagle's, locked onto Li Muzhan, completely ignoring Zhao Wufang as he slowly slumped down. He only stared intently at Li Muzhan. Li Muzhan smiled, "Aren't you going to look at his wound?... A heart of stone, nothing more. Head Prefect Fang is truly formidable." Fang Shaohua gave a cold laugh, "You are a monk, killing without batting an eye; you are no better!" Li Muzhan's smile remained, "I am injured, yet I still managed one strike. Does Head Prefect Fang feel confident he can withstand it?" Fang Shaohua's gaze contracted, his hand resting on his sword hilt, and he said coldly, "Why not try?" He recalled the image of that previous strike—swift as lightning, like a flash of white light. He couldn't even see the sword clearly; he was utterly uncertain he could parry it. But looking at Li Muzhan's appearance, it seemed like bluster. If he really could launch another strike, he should just attack! Why the chatter? Hmph, another stalling tactic. He was buying time to recover his strength!

He moved his hand, preparing to draw his sword, when a clear shout suddenly pierced the night sky, echoing from a distance: "Halt!" Fang Shaohua paused, his hand on his sword, and stepped back, turning to look. A white figure appeared on the winding path, draped in flowing white robes, moving rapidly. Under the moonlight, she looked like an exiled celestial fairy, graceful and ethereal, her movement astonishingly fast. Seeing that it was Gong Qingyun, Fang Shaohua immediately resolved to leave. His mind raced: If Senior Sister Gong saw him kill Li Muzhan, he would face severe punishment under the residence rules; everything would be ruined. If Li Muzhan killed Junior Brother Zhao, he would be punished according to the rules, his martial arts crippled, and he would be expelled. Then, Fang Shaohua could find another opportunity to strike secretly; killing him would then be as easy as turning his hand. "Halt!" Gong Qingyun called out sweetly, drifting like clouds, arriving within two hundred meters in the blink of an eye. Fang Shaohua sneered, "I'll spare your life today!" He turned and fled, his movement just as swift, darting towards the southern woods like an arrow released from a bow. Li Muzhan smiled faintly, raising his right hand. A flash of white light streaked past. Just as Fang Shaohua was about to vanish into the shadows of the trees, a white light shot forth, instantly passing through Fang Shaohua and embedding itself in a nearby pine tree. "Ugh..." Fang Shaohua's body jerked to a halt. He slowly turned around, pointing a finger at Li Muzhan, his eyes wide with disbelief, letting out a resentful roar, "You... You..." "Zhanran, you—you—!" A wisp of delicate fragrance rushed toward him as Gong Qingyun arrived. Her elegant eyebrows shot up, and she glared fiercely at him. She drifted again, appearing a dozen zhang away, and looked down to examine Fang Shaohua’s injuries. A bloody hole on his left chest was hissing blood—even an immortal descending from heaven could not save him now. Li Muzhan extended a finger and smiled lightly, "Senior Sister Gong, might I trouble you to retrieve my knife for me?" Gong Qingyun followed his gaze. Halfway up the pine tree, large enough for two people to embrace, was a small knife stuck into the wood. Half of the blade was buried, its appearance utterly ordinary—just a common throwing knife. She turned and glared sharply at Li Muzhan, "How could you bring yourself to do this?!" Li Muzhan smiled and shook his head, "The flying knife is my trump card. Sister, you must keep it a secret for me!" "Silence!" Gong Qingyun snapped, looking at him coldly, "I ask you, why did you kill them? ... I never thought you were so vicious!" Li Muzhan offered a wry smile, "Senior Sister, though I am a man of the cloth, I cannot behave like a falcon serving an eagle." Gong Qingyun paused, glancing at Zhao Wufang, then at Fang Shaohua, and huffed, "When you saw me arrive, Junior Brother Fang clearly stopped and was about to leave!" Li Muzhan shook his head, "Head Prefect Fang intended to kill me. If he failed this time, he would surely find another chance." "Sophistry!" Gong Qingyun snorted, though she understood in her heart that he was right. She knew exactly what kind of person Fang Shaohua was. She gracefully walked to the tree, extended her slender index and middle fingers, grasped the knife handle, and pulled it out lightly. She examined it for a moment—it was indeed an ordinary throwing knife. She tossed it casually, and Li Muzhan caught it, tucking it into his robes. He smiled, "Remember, keep it secret!" Gong Qingyun walked slowly toward him, looking down at him with sharp, penetrating eyes.

After staring at him for a long while and seeing his expression remain unchanged, Gong Qingyun rolled her eyes, "Hmph, you are in huge trouble now!" She then pointed at the two corpses, "For disciples to kill one another violates the residence rules—the punishment is the forfeiture of all martial arts and expulsion from the estate!" Li Muzhan frowned, "Is there no room for leniency?" Gong Qingyun shook her head, her delicate eyebrows slightly furrowed, looking utterly captivating, "The Eldest Miss rewards and punishes impartially. It won't matter that you are the younger brother of Deputy Steward Li!" Li Muzhan spread his hands, "The law should always have a human element. This was self-defense; I couldn't just wait to die, could I?" "Mmm..." Gong Qingyun frowned in contemplation, "That all depends on the Eldest Miss. Even so, you are likely to be punished. ... After all, Fang Shaohua was the head of Kaiyang Academy!" She pursed her lips and fell silent. After a moment of thought, she suddenly looked up, "There is one way!" "Let me hear it," Li Muzhan said with a smile. Seeing his relaxed demeanor, the look of carefree nonchalance, Gong Qingyun became somewhat annoyed. She huffed, "You can still smile! ... Alright, just pretend you knew nothing!" Li Muzhan’s thoughts shifted, and he laughed. Indeed, out in this desolate wilderness, with no one else around, as long as the two of them said nothing, the dead could not speak. Who would know he was the killer? "What are you laughing at?" Gong Qingyun huffed. Li Muzhan smiled down at her exquisite melon-seed face and her eyes of clear black and white, and asked with a smile, "Senior Sister, why are you helping me so much?" "...Consider it repayment of a favor!" Gong Qingyun turned her head away, her face flushing instantly. "Heh heh..., alright, then we are even!" Li Muzhan chuckled. Gong Qingyun ignored him, turned away, drew Fang Shaohua's sword, dug a pit near the tree, and buried the two bodies. She then set up a marker and began carving words onto the wooden plaque with the sword. Li Muzhan remained seated cross-legged, watching her busy herself lazily, and commented, "Senior Sister, you’ve killed someone before, haven't you?" "...No!" Gong Qingyun paused, then shook her head coldly, "You are a monk, yet you kill without batting an eye. Truly vicious!" Li Muzhan laughed, "Senior Sister has quite a lot of nerve. Most people would be terrified seeing dead bodies." Gong Qingyun said coldly, "I wasn't afraid when they were alive; what is there to fear now that they are dead?" Li Muzhan burst into hearty laughter, "Wonderful! Wonderful!" "Wonderful what!" Gong Qingyun scolded coldly, "You are a monk, won't you recite some sutras to grant them passage?" "...That would be appropriate," Li Muzhan agreed. He dropped his playful look, slowly stood up, approached the wooden plaque, clasped his hands in a bow, his expression solemn. His left hand began moving his prayer beads, his right hand in the anjali mudra, his eyes slightly closed, murmuring to himself. Gong Qingyun watched from the side. His chanting was faint at first, almost inaudible, but it gradually grew louder, clear as chimes, every word distinct. By the end, his voice was like the vast clang of brass bells, mighty as layers of piled clouds, filling the space between Heaven and Earth. Gong Qingyun felt his figure slowly growing taller, larger, sacred like a Buddha, radiating light so intensely that she could not look directly at him, involuntarily wanting to kneel down and offer obeisance. Though she was not a believer, in that moment, her mind was utterly clear, as if bathed in pure light.