The two entered the Boundless Hall. Beneath the towering jade statue sat Abbess Zhuzhao, Abbess Zhumei, and Li Zhuyue, each occupying a high-backed chair. Abbess Zhuzhao sat center, smiling radiantly, a vision of youthful beauty.

To the left sat Abbess Zhumei and Li Zhuyue; to the right was Zhou Wanli.

The ten senior disciples stood behind the chairs. The twelve youths from Xiankong Island stood behind Zhou Wanli. A considerable space of over ten meters separated the two ranks, leaving the center quite open.

As Li Muzhan entered, he clasped his hands in a distant salute toward the three presiding figures, then stepped behind Mei Ruolan, drawing the attention of everyone opposite. A dozen gazes fixed upon him, and Li Muzhan returned a slight, smiling nod.

At that moment, the elder was speaking with Abbess Zhuzhao.

Zhou Wanli clasped his hands in salute: "Abbess, my sole intention in coming here today is to let these young fellows witness the supreme arts of Canghai. These boys, though their martial arts are wanting, possess no small measure of arrogance!"

Abbess Zhuzhao smiled sweetly: "Very well, that is precisely my thought as well. My young ones train behind closed doors and are unaware of the vastness beyond the heavens; it is easy for them to become conceited!"

"Excellent!" Zhou Wanli managed a strained smile.

Abbess Zhuzhao laughed: "Enough pleasantries, let us begin!"

Zhou Wanli waved his hand dismissively, saying lightly, "Wait a moment."

Zhuzhao watched him with an undiminished smile, unconcerned.

Zhou Wanli continued, "Since this is a sparring match, there will naturally be a victor and a loser. Perhaps we should add a stake."

"Wonderful, what stake do you propose?" Abbess Zhuzhao asked with a smile.

Zhou Wanli produced a string of beads from his robes. They were the size of longan fruit, perfectly round and flawless, a silvery luminescence flowing around them, enveloping his hand.

"What are these?" Abbess Zhuzhao inquired with surprise.

All the women in the hall widened their eyes; such brilliant pearls were truly a rare sight.

Zhou Wanli said in a deep voice, "These are my prized Night-Luminous Pearls, twelve in total. They can calm the spirit and clear the mind, offering immense benefit to martial practitioners." Abbess Zhuzhao nodded and laughed, "Senior Zhou is so generous; I cannot be stingy in return. Yinyue, fetch a Pill of Creation."

"Yes." Wen Yinyue, clad in an ink-green silk robe, floated out through a side door and quickly returned, presenting a small white jade vial, exquisitely delicate.

Abbess Zhuzhao smiled, "Let this Pill of Creation be added to the stakes as well."

"Abbess shows remarkable boldness!" Zhou Wanli's expression shifted slightly.

The Pill of Creation was one of the foremost spiritual elixirs in the world. As long as a single breath remained, taking this pill could save one's life; one pill was equivalent to one life.

Treasures have a price, but life is priceless. This single Pill of Creation was by no means comparable to twelve Night-Luminous Pearls.

Zhou Wanli wondered at the source of Abbess Zhuzhao's profound confidence. He couldn't believe she would willingly give away a Pill of Creation merely for the sake of a match.

Abbess Zhuzhao smiled warmly, "Very well, Senior Zhou, let us cease the dithering. The youngsters are impatient!"

Zhou Wanli stated, "Before we begin, the rules must be established."

Abbess Zhuzhao nodded, "Rules are necessary. How about this: one-on-one, whoever can last the longest wins and claims both prizes."

Zhou Wanli queried, "What about a continuous relay match?"

Abbess Zhuzhao replied, "A relay is fine, so long as each person only fights once."

Zhou Wanli's eyes narrowed slightly. He nodded slowly, sensing a vague unease. Why was she so confident?

A slender youth stepped forward, walking to the center of the arena. He clasped his hands and stated in a deep voice, "I am Qian Yifeng of Xiankong Island. I request the honor of experiencing the peerless techniques of Canghai!"

Abbess Zhuzhao glanced smilingly across the group, her gaze lingering on Li Muzhan.

Li Muzhan offered a wry, helpless smile, stepped forward, and clasped his hands in salute: "I am Zhanran. I await your superior skill."

Seeing him step up, Xu Jingying and the others showed no surprise. Among the eleven senior disciples, he held the lowest seniority; it was not improper for him to step up first.

Zhao Jinsheng moved his lips, seeming about to speak, but swallowed the words. His junior martial brother was no mere novice.

In an instant, Li Muzhan thought of many things. While appearing at the end to showcase his heroism upon selling the preserved goods would be fine, stepping up first was better. Those two stakes were significant; if his seniors fought first, there would be nothing left for him.

Qian Yifeng sized up Li Muzhan from head to toe and chuckled, "Little Master, weren't you sweeping floors? Why are you here now?"

Li Muzhan smiled, "I caused trouble and was punished with sweeping; I am truly ashamed. Brother Qian, please proceed."

Qian Yifeng nodded, "Very well. I will sample your swordplay, Little Master."

Li Muzhan smiled and shook his head, "My swordplay is inferior to my palm techniques. Brother Qian may use his sword. Please—!"

"Forgive me!" Qian Yifeng drew his sword. The narrow blade transformed into a streak of cold light and stabbed forward.

Li Muzhan stepped forward lightly and struck the long sword with a seemingly weightless palm.

With a crisp ding, the sword pierced the doorframe, its tassel swaying continuously.

Li Muzhan took a step back, clasped his hands with a smile, "Brother Qian, you let me win!"

Qian Yifeng stared at Li Muzhan in disbelief, standing utterly speechless.

Zhou Wanli's face darkened, and he commanded coldly, "Yifeng, if you are defeated, step down!"

Qian Yifeng returned the salute with clasped hands and retreated behind Zhou Wanli, still gazing at Li Muzhan in a daze.

Li Muzhan smiled, clasping his hands, "Which senior brother would care to guide me next?"

"I will!" A robust youth leaped out. He was tall, with a square face that conveyed an air of uprightness and integrity.

He clasped his hands and announced loudly, "Truly, a true master hides his skills. I never imagined the Little Master's palm techniques were so exquisite. I am impressed. I, Bai Xiongfei, request your superior guidance!"

Li Muzhan smiled slightly, returning the salute, "It seems Senior Brother Bai seeks instruction—!"

"Please—!" Bai Xiongfei slowly unsheathed his sword, held it vertically in salute, and then slowly thrust forward a single strike. The tip of the blade trembled, casting off shimmering cold light, moving like a swimming serpent.

The sword point threatened several vital points, capable of instantly shifting its technique; it was exquisitely refined.

Zhou Wanli stroked his beard and smiled, immensely pleased. This strike possessed perfect timing and spirit, clearly reaching the superior level.

Li Muzhan remained still. When the sword tip reached him, he lightly struck out with his palm.

Ding—the long sword was once again embedded in the doorframe.

The two long swords stood perfectly parallel, inserted straight up and down, quite orderly—one with a yellow tassel, the other with a white one, both fluttering slightly in the breeze.

Li Muzhan stepped back, smiled, and clasped his hands, "Brother Bai, you let me win!"

Bai Xiongfei also stared at him dumbfoundedly, a look of disbelief on his face. He only snapped back to reality when Li Muzhan spoke, bowed slightly, and returned behind Zhou Wanli with a sigh.

At this point, even Zhou Wanli sensed something was amiss. He stared intently at Li Muzhan, and after a long pause, said in a deep voice, "Abbess, this young master looks unfamiliar. Is he a newly accepted disciple?"

Abbess Zhuzhao shook her head, smiling sweetly, "Zhanran? He has a certain reputation down the mountain as well. Senior Zhou, have you ever heard the title, 'The Twin Sword Monk'?"

"The Twin Sword Monk Zhanran?" Zhou Wanli inquired.

Abbess Zhuzhao smiled and nodded, "So it is the Twin Sword Monk. No wonder..."

Li Muzhan smiled and clasped his hands, "A mere trifle of a reputation, Senior Zhou must forgive my presumption."

Zhou Wanli gave a faint smile, "Very good. Let us continue."

Subsequently, several more leaped out to challenge Li Muzhan. Knowing they were likely to lose, they challenged anyway. Li Muzhan shook his head inwardly; clearly, they intended to exhaust his spirit and energy.

Each time, Li Muzhan offered only a single, seemingly light and casual palm strike—simple and effortless, showing no profound subtlety. Yet, one strike and one sword were all it took; none could withstand it, no matter how exquisite the swordplay, the blade was always sent flying.

In a short while, the doorframe was studded with narrow long swords, nine in total, lined up from top to bottom.

Li Muzhan retracted his hands, shaking his head with a smile but saying nothing. Yet, this expression caused the entire opposite group profound shame, their faces flushing red.

They had initially come filled with bold spirit, proud of their Xiankong Island lineage, their exquisite swordsmanship, and deep internal energy—confident they could become famous in the martial world. Thus, they were inherently self-satisfied, and even those who were outwardly modest carried an ingrained reserve and pride.

This visit to the Canghai Sword Sect was meant to display their might, to defeat the younger disciples of Canghai and suppress them, taking out Xiankong Island's frustrations.

Unexpectedly, they were all bested by a young monk. Considering this young monk ranked lowest in seniority, how formidable must the others be?

The elders of their sect had always maintained that the martial arts of the Canghai Sword Sect were supremely excellent, not to be underestimated, and should not be provoked. They had previously scoffed at this, but now, having witnessed it, they knew their elders spoke the truth.

Li Muzhan smiled warmly, looking across the way, his expression subtly mirroring that of Abbess Zhuzhao. His gaze settled on the last man standing—a youth with broad ears and a face like refined jade.

Watching his peers fall one by one, the youth’s expression remained unchanged, perfectly calm. He squinted, closely observing Li Muzhan's palm techniques, his focus absolute.

At this moment, he seemed deep in thought, standing motionless, appearing not to notice Li Muzhan's gaze. The focus of the crowd shifted toward him as well.

Zhou Wanli glanced over his shoulder. Seeing the youth's composure, he said nothing, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and remarked coolly, "The Twin Sword Monk Zhanran, your reputation is well earned!"

Li Muzhan looked at him, then glanced at the youth, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips.

Zhou Wanli frowned, finding his smile irritating, his gaze bothersome, as if the monk could see straight through his thoughts.

Li Muzhan turned and said with a smile, "Master, allow Wu to rest for a moment."

Abbess Zhuzhao smiled sweetly, "Senior Zhou has no objection, so be it."

This was clearly Li Muzhan deliberately yielding an opportunity. Zhou Wanli frowned, finding the gesture distasteful, and scoffed coldly, turning to sweep his gaze over his disciples, his eyes like cold blades.

The disciples immediately lowered their heads, daring not look at him.

The youth suddenly raised his head, his eyes flashing with sharp brilliance. He clasped his hands and said deeply, "I am Zhou Zhiyang of Xiankong Island. I request the honor of facing Master Zhanran!"

Li Muzhan laughed, "Has Brother Zhou come to an understanding?"

Zhou Zhiyang replied seriously, "I have gained a small insight! Master Zhanran's palm techniques are truly sublime; I am deeply impressed!"

"Then I shall accept Brother Zhou's superior challenge," Li Muzhan said with a smile, gesturing an invitation with his hand.

"Very well, be careful!" Zhou Zhiyang nodded, drew his sword, and delivered a light thrust. It appeared casual, but the speed was extraordinary; any hesitation would have resulted in being struck.

Li Muzhan shifted sideways to avoid it, and the sword swept across horizontally. He retreated another step.

The narrow blade moved through the air, silent and invisible—this alone surpassed the first nine challengers.

Li Muzhan held back his palm strike, wishing to observe Zhou Zhiyang's swordplay. The sword techniques of Xiankong Island were indeed formidable, but the first nine challengers had too shallow a cultivation base; he hadn't bothered to watch them closely, dispatching them with one strike. Zhou Zhiyang's cultivation, however, was deep enough to warrant inspection.