The Head of the Nie Sect offered a faint smile: "I dare not claim such praise. 'I hold that a person living in this world who understands neither grace nor righteousness is no better than a beast.'"
Li Muzhan chuckled lightly, nodding. "Head Nie shows great virtue; I hold you in high esteem."
He immediately shook his head. "However, figures like Head Nie are exceedingly rare in this world. For common folk like us, struggling in this sea of suffering, enduring endless hardship—what joy is there in living if we cannot be with the one we love?"
Head Nie remarked casually, "I never expected Master Zhanran to be such a sentimental soul."
Li Muzhan smiled, "Not at all, not at all. Sentimentality breeds indifference, and indifference can breed deep feeling. Only in the ultimate realization of feeling can one transcend to the state of non-feeling, thereby grasping the true essence of the Buddhist path."
Head Nie asked, "Master Zhanran, what is it you intend to do?"
Li Muzhan glanced at He Fengxia, then at Nie Xuefeng and Wang Xiaoyao, and smiled, "How about this: I have an idea."
"...Please share it," Head Nie mused for a moment before speaking slowly.
Li Muzhan continued, "We martial artists should settle matters in a martial way. Why pass such a difficult choice to a frail young woman, wouldn't you agree?"
"What way?" Head Nie inquired.
Li Muzhan grinned, "A martial contest! Let Young Master Nie and Young Master Wang fight to decide the victor. Whoever wins takes Miss He; the strong shall prevail. There’s no need for further entanglement... What does Miss He think of this arrangement?"
He Fengxia lowered her exquisite head and slowly nodded once.
Li Muzhan smiled, "Miss He agrees. Does Head Nie agree?"
Head Nie turned to look at Elder He, then at Nie Xuefeng and Wang Xiaoyao, and smiled, "This suggestion is clean and decisive; I find it quite agreeable."
Elder He shook his head and sighed resignedly, "Very well."
He cast a deep glance at Wang Xiaoyao, his heart torn between hoping his nephew would lose, thus solidifying the arranged marriage, and not wanting him to lose, lest the prestige of the Penglai Pavilion be undermined.
Nie Yinxia unfastened the scabbard of the long sword at his waist and tossed it over casually: "Junior Brother, catch!"
Li Muzhan offered Nie Yinxia a subtle smile, tinged with a hint of mockery.
Nie Xuefeng caught the long sword, and his entire demeanor shifted—as if a different person stood there. He confidently flicked the sword lightly, holding it horizontally before his chest. He stood as still as a deep pool, imposing as a great mountain, carrying the subtle bearing of a true master.
Those who had previously underestimated him stiffened instantly. To command such presence the moment one gripped a sword clearly showed they had misjudged him earlier!
Li Muzhan smiled, "Young Master Nie, Young Master Wang, you both have no objections, correct?"
Nie Xuefeng stood firm with his sword raised and nodded slowly, "Excellent!"
Wang Xiaoyao scoffed, "If I win, the Changbai Sword Sect won't send assassins after us, will they?"
Nie Xuefeng’s face instantly flushed red. "You! What kind of people do you think we are, using the name of the Changbai Sword Sect!"
"...Hmph," Wang Xiaoyao shook his head, a gesture implying disdain.
Head Nie stroked his beard and smiled faintly, "Young Master Wang, rest assured. If you defeat Feng'er, I vow I will not make trouble for you, nor will I trouble the Penglai Pavilion. This whole affair will be considered settled!"
"Head Nie shows great magnanimity; I admire it!" Li Muzhan said with clasped hands and a smile.
Head Nie smiled slightly, "Since it is settled, let us begin... Remember, stop when one is clearly defeated. Do not cling on stubbornly!"
Nie Xuefeng and Wang Xiaoyao stood separated by the length of two swords, beginning to circle slowly in a clockwise pattern. Their footsteps were measured and grave, their eyes sharp as a hawk's, fixed unblinkingly on their opponent.
Silence descended, so profound you could hear a pin drop. The crowd stared intently at the center of the circle.
He Fengxia retreated to the side, positioning herself near Li Muzhan... Her small hand clutched a silk handkerchief, and she bit her red lip as she gazed at the fighters, her exquisite face pale.
Li Muzhan said, "Miss He... please come here for a moment."
He Fengxia started, turning to look at him.
Li Muzhan beckoned gently with a smile, and He Fengxia slowly moved closer, looking at him with gratitude.
She felt that amidst so many people, only Li Muzhan showed genuine kindness and concern for her plight. Torn between duty of gratitude and the pull of love, she genuinely didn't know how to choose. Now, she decided to leave it to fate—whoever won, she would go with, accepting Heaven's decree.
The two in the circle continued to pace, their gazes locked, like two roosters puffing up their hackles. With every rotation, the tension in the air grew tighter.
Li Muzhan’s voice was incredibly low, almost imperceptible, audible only to He Fengxia.
"Miss He, if Young Master Wang should win, would you truly return with him?"
He Fengxia flinched, then lowered her gaze, offering no reply.
Li Muzhan sighed internally. This was a clever girl, aware of the consequences to come. Even if Wang Xiaoyao won and reclaimed her, once back in their sect, he would face severe punishment, and his fate remained uncertain.
National laws existed, and sects had their own codes. The Pavilion Master’s token was tantamount to the Master's personal presence; those who defied such an order, whether under martial or imperial law, faced certain execution. The sect rules must surely contain similar clauses—defiance of the Pavilion Master's token would not be treated lightly. Though Wang Xiaoyao was the Chief Disciple, violating the token meant breaking sect rules. To show leniency would invalidate the law and inevitably lead to laxity and disorder within the ranks. Furthermore, the Pavilion Master of Penglai Pavilion already opposed their relationship; even if Wang Xiaoyao won, would the Master permit them to be together upon their return?
Li Muzhan considered these points in a flash. With his subtle prompting, He Fengxia slowly grasped the gravity of the situation. Her beautiful face contorted in sorrow, and she let out a soft, drawn-out sigh.
Wen Yinyue frowned as she watched the duel. She couldn't quite understand why Li Muzhan was intervening so openly in this matter. Although the Changbai Sword Sect and the Canghai Sword Sect were rivals, such blatant opposition was unprecedented; typically, they merely engaged in private sabotage and undermining each other's efforts.
Li Yujiao suddenly murmured, "Senior Brother Zhanran, please help them."
...................................................
Li Muzhan turned and smiled. "Junior Sister Li, I am of humble standing, and my words carry little weight. Even if I wish to help, my power is limited. I could only manage to reach this point."
Li Yujiao insisted, "Senior Brother Zhanran, you always have a way."
He Fengxia pleaded softly, "Master Zhanran..."
Li Muzhan pondered for a moment, then nodded slowly, "I shall try. Let us see if we can get past this immediate hurdle first."
"Clang-clang-clang-clang..." Amidst a rapid series of clear metallic sounds, two streaks of cold light collided, their blades too fast to distinguish. Wang Xiaoyao and Nie Xuefeng spun like tops.
Wang Xiaoyao seemed to glide above the ground, moving as if riding the wind, coiling around Nie Xuefeng like a ribbon. Nie Xuefeng, however, kept his footing solid, compensating for his relative lack of agility by delivering extremely swift sword strikes. One was faster in technique, the other in footwork; they battled fiercely, locked in a stalemate where the outcome was impossible to predict.
In the blink of an eye, they exchanged over a dozen moves, so fast the sequences blurred—only the light of the swords was visible, not the steel itself.
The onlookers grew solemn. Fame was not undeserved; these two were undoubtedly paragons among the younger generation, possessing astonishing skill. Facing such speed, any one of themselves would likely be in grave peril!
Nie Xuefeng’s Flying Immortal Swordplay grew more refined, striking with lightning speed, while Wang Xiaoyao’s swordsmanship was dense as driving rain, his movements elusive as smoke, creating a misty veil.
They were evenly matched, neither gaining the advantage. Head Nie stroked his beard, his brow furrowed. He had not expected Wang Xiaoyao’s swordsmanship to be so potent. Even with Feng'er's natural talent and mastery of the Flying Immortal Swordplay, he could not gain the upper hand. If Feng'er lost, it would mean both a personal defeat and a public disgrace, severely damaging the prestige of the Changbai Sword Sect, inviting ridicule from countless rivals across the world. No matter what, Feng'er could not lose!
Having made his decision, he exchanged a look with Nie Yinxia beside him.
Nie Yinxia nodded slightly, understanding his master’s intent. His fingers moved subtly within his sleeve, though his expression remained unchanged.
The two fighters in the ring pressed their attack with growing ferocity..."Clang-clang-clang-clang..." The ringing grew as sharp as a downpour, making it hard for the spectators to draw breath. Both men seemed to fight without need for air, driven only to increase their speed, desperate to outpace the other.
Nie Yinxia’s fingers flicked almost imperceptibly within his sleeve, sending a colorless, fine needle shooting out.
Li Muzhan, who had been continually turning his Buddhist beads, suddenly flicked his sleeve and snorted, "A fine display from the Changbai Sword Sect!"
People turned, looking at him in bewilderment.
The two in the fight were at the peak of their intensity; their attacks only accelerated. Both sword styles were moving too fast; even a moment’s distraction meant certain defeat, allowing no time for other concerns.
Li Muzhan pointed his finger slightly and said sternly, "Miss He, please go over there and help look for a fine needle."
He Fengxia looked at him with surprise, but Li Muzhan nodded slowly.
He Fengxia inclined her head and cautiously skirted the edge of the fighting pair, moving toward the direction Li Muzhan indicated. She looked up at him, and Li Muzhan nodded again, "It should be right there. Take a look."
He Fengxia gathered the hem of her skirt and squatted down, examining the thick, soft, pale purple carpet. If the object were dark, it would be hard to spot, but a light object would stand out. Her gaze suddenly sharpened. She reached out, plucked up a fine, hair-like needle, stood, and raised her hand. "Master Zhanran, is this it?"
Li Muzhan nodded. "Indeed, that is precisely it." He smiled toward Head Nie. "Head Nie, where did this come from? Is the Changbai Sword Sect so unable to bear defeat that they resort to such base tricks?"
Head Nie frowned. "Master Zhanran, do not speak carelessly. Where did this fine needle actually originate? Perhaps it was an attempt to harm Feng'er?"
Li Muzhan smiled, glancing at Nie Yinxia. "Does Young Master Nie have any knowledge of this?"
Nie Yinxia grimaced and shook his head. "I do not."
Li Muzhan laughed heartily, waving his hand dismissively. "Then let us forget it. Ah... I only hope Young Master Nie can emerge victorious, or how will the Changbai Sword Sect maintain face in the world..."
Head Nie frowned and shot a cold glance at Li Muzhan. He was shocked by Li Muzhan's sheer audacity—to publicly mock him and oppose him so openly! Yet, because Li Muzhan was a junior, engaging him directly would diminish his own status. Still, this aggressive meddling, continually undermining the proceedings, was infuriating! His eyes flashed with cold lightning as he swept a frigid look over Li Muzhan.
Li Muzhan simply smiled back at him.
The crowd murmured amongst themselves in low whispers, occasionally glancing toward Head Nie and Nie Yinxia.
He Fengxia returned gracefully, walking to stand before Li Muzhan. By now, she understood perfectly: Nie’s faction must have tried to sabotage the fight against the Senior Brother, and Master Zhanran had thwarted them.
Li Muzhan continued to manipulate his prayer beads, his eyes slightly closed as if dozing off. Hidden in his sleeve, his right hand subtly raised his little finger.