Li Muzhan chuckled, "What makes you so sure?"

He noticed the certainty in Xu Xiaorou’s expression and knew she must have her reasons.

"Senior Sister Luo is quite popular with those stinky men. Now that you've beaten her and advanced, hehe..." Xu Xiaorou glanced sideways at Luo Xiuhua in the distance.

Luo Xiuhua was standing amidst a crowd, smiling gently, surrounded by several young women and men who were chatting animatedly with her; she nodded occasionally.

Suddenly, she looked up and glanced over, her eyes meeting Li Muzhan's.

Li Muzhan smiled and nodded. Luo Xiuhua returned a brief smile.

Xu Xiaorou saw it. "Hmph," she scoffed, "Have you lost your heart to her too?"

Li Muzhan smiled calmly, "She is our Senior Sister after all; how could I be rude?"

Xu Xiaorou pouted again, "Hmph, she’s the most appealing to men! I really don't see what’s so great about her—she’s so quiet and boring!"

Li Muzhan laughed, "Senior Sister, men and women think differently. Men prefer the gentle and quiet type. Besides, she carries a trace of the Lake Lord’s bearing."

"Well, she is quiet," Xu Xiaorou seemed to realize something, turning to look over. "The Lake Lord’s bearing? I didn't notice!"

She had always been aloof towards the male disciples, never engaging with them. Li Muzhan was the first man she had grown close to, and only because she had recruited him into the sect would she even pay him any mind.

Li Muzhan said, "However, to each their own, like cabbages versus white radish. Everyone has different preferences. The same person can be seen as beautiful by one and ugly by another; it all depends on destiny."

Xu Xiaorou rolled her eyes at him. "I don't need your comfort!"

Li Muzhan touched his nose and chuckled, then turned his gaze back toward the stage.

Just then, another figure leaped onto the platform—it was Meng Shichao.

As soon as he stepped onto the stage, he cupped his fists and laughed heartily, "Greetings to all Senior Brothers, Junior Brothers, and Junior Sisters! Please be merciful; my purse is a bit light these days!"

The crowd below burst into laughter. Someone shouted loudly, "Senior Brother Meng, my purse is light too! If I win the prize money, let's split it fifty-fifty!"

Meng Shichao shook his head repeatedly, "No, no, absolutely not to be split!"

A figure clad in azure shot upwards, rising two zhang high before gently descending, stopping right in front of Meng Shichao. "Junior Brother Meng, let's trade a few moves!"

Meng Shichao’s face immediately soured. "Senior Brother Wang, please spare me!"

"Fine," the man in green replied, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, a faint smile on his lips. "Then you can just step down obediently!"

This youth was slightly older than Meng Shichao. His face was fair as jade, his complexion smooth and warm. Standing there with his hands behind his back, his green robes flowed, lending him a distinct, dashing air.

Xu Xiaorou laughed, "This Senior Brother Wang just knows how to put on a show!"

... Meng Shichao scratched his head, sighed helplessly, "Alas... death either way, whether I fight or not. I might as well give it a shot! Senior Brother Wang, watch out!"

"I knew you wouldn't give up easily, come on then!" Senior Brother Wang kept his right hand behind his back and made gestures with his left hand, composed and effortless.

"Watch this move!" Jiang Shichao drew his saber and brought down a sweeping strike, the blade light shimmering brilliantly.

Senior Brother Wang met it barehanded. As the blade light neared, he suddenly thrust out a punch—clang... the blade light dimmed, and Meng Shichao stepped back.

His expression unchanged, he advanced and struck again, this time the saber light more restrained and powerful.

Senior Brother Wang remained still, meeting the blade light only when it was close, thrusting out another punch that struck the saber’s spine precisely—like hitting a snake's vital spot. The long saber trembled, and Meng Shichao was forced back again.

He swung his saber once more—the saber light poured out like a cascading waterfall.

Senior Brother Wang stood still. As the saber light enveloped him, he punched out again.

Clang... The vast expanse of saber light vanished. Meng Shichao staggered back two steps, his face turning pale.

"Kid, stop pretending to be tough and step down!" Senior Brother Wang glared and snorted impatiently.

Meng Shichao flexed his wrist, sighed resignedly, sheathed his saber, cupped his hands, and said, "Thank you for your guidance, Senior Brother Wang, I concede!"

Senior Brother Wang waved his hand dismissively. "Get out of here, brat. Don't even think about trading blows with me unless you reach the Sixth Grade!"

Meng Shichao chuckled slyly, "Senior Brother Wang, you better be careful. One day I'll defeat you!"

Senior Brother Wang laughed and cursed back, "Not much of a person, but a big mouth! Hurry up and scram!"

"I'm leaving!" Meng Shichao shot off the stage in a single bound.

Xu Xiaorou shook her head. "This Junior Brother Meng can never pass the Yellow Stage every year; his luck is much worse than yours!"

Li Muzhan smiled, "I only got lucky this year; it won't happen next year."

"It's good you know that," Xu Xiaorou nodded quickly.

Zhang Qiaoyi smiled, "With Junior Brother Li's progress, he might achieve something next year too."

"Mm," He Ruoshui nodded lightly and cast an encouraging glance his way.

Li Muzhan laughed heartily, "I will definitely train diligently!"

Xu Xiaorou pouted, "Who among us isn't training diligently?"

Zhang Qiaoyi chimed in, "Junior Brother Li has higher innate talent; he has hope."

While they were talking, a youth in brown robes leaped onto the stage to spar with Senior Brother Wang. Both used fist and foot techniques, Wang specializing in fists while the brown-robed youth used palms. The palm winds hissed, and the fist winds whistled, sweeping by like a fierce gale.

Li Muzhan watched closely and quickly discerned that Senior Brother Wang had the upper hand. He countered stillness with stillness, using strength to break skill, displaying great skill disguised as clumsiness. Every punch landed at a crucial point.

To perform Po Xu Dao Kang required precise sight; this Senior Brother Wang’s martial cultivation was indeed considerable.

After more than thirty exchanges, the brown-robed youth was constantly retreating and finally conceded with a sigh, shaking his head. "I still can't break through your Roaring Tiger Fist."

Senior Brother Wang smiled. "I win with brute force. Your internal energy cultivation isn't high enough; don't dream of defeating me!"

...

The brown-robed youth stepped down. Immediately, a girl in green jumped onto the stage. She was attractive, though not a peerless beauty; she was pleasing to the eye.

Without a word after mounting the stage, she drew her sword and attacked. The sword light resembled scattered starlight, enveloping Senior Brother Wang. The sword light seemed slow but was astonishingly fast.

Senior Brother Wang’s expression turned serious, and he became flustered. He couldn't penetrate the green-clad girl's swordsmanship; every time he thrust out a punch, the sword was already waiting there. If he forced his punch, he would be presenting his fist to the sword tip—suicide.

The crowd below erupted in cheers and applause.

Li Muzhan shook his head, surprised by the subtlety of the green-clad girl's swordsmanship. He inwardly thought that if he faced her, he wouldn't be confident of winning.

Senior Brother Wang suddenly changed his move, transforming his fist into a palm. His feet moved like a swimming dragon, and his hands patted out lightly, like a dragonfly touching water, circling the green-clad girl.

The green-clad girl held her ground, countering stillness with stillness. The sword tip darted like cold stars, pursuing Senior Brother Wang. Their palms and long sword never intersected; each attacked the other's weak points.

Shadows of palms and sword light merged into a blur of dazzling brilliance; it was incredibly fast, yet impossible to see clearly.

In the blink of an eye, they had traded over a hundred moves, evenly matched. Li Muzhan’s eyes shone brightly; he felt his perspective expanding. Such exquisite techniques! It was breathtaking.

He imagined himself powerfully engaging in the duel, putting himself in one of their positions, trying again and again, yet never proving superior. Xinghu Small Lodge truly hid crouching tigers and hidden dragons.

After another twenty-odd moves, a muffled groan suddenly sounded. Senior Brother Wang abruptly retreated, jumping out of the circle, shaking his head with a wry smile. "Junior Sister Xiang, I am defeated!"

"Senior Brother Wang, you were too kind!" the green-clad girl cupped her fists.

Senior Brother Wang shook his head with a bitter smile and drifted off the stage, landing among the crowd. People applauded, but the green-clad girl kept a composed face, sweeping her clear gaze over the crowd.

Elder Sheng tapped his dragon-head staff. "Is there anyone else to challenge?"

Soon, a youth stepped up. His expression was weathered, and sorrow haunted his brow. After arriving on stage, he lazily cupped his hands. "Junior Sister Xiang, let's have a spar."

Junior Sister Xiang frowned slightly, nodded, "Alright, Senior Brother Zhao, please guide me!"

Xu Xiaorou pouted. "This Senior Brother Zhao is really something, bullying Junior Sister Xiang!"

"Is his martial art very strong?" Li Muzhan turned to ask.

"Senior Brother Zhao is a Ninth Grade disciple; what do you think?" Xu Xiaorou scoffed.

Li Muzhan nodded slowly. Of course, he was strong. Ninth Grade disciples were considered top masters in the Xinghu Small Lodge, where disciples were ranked by nine grades, with Elders above that.

Looking at his melancholic expression and lack of imposing aura, he looked less like a martial arts master and more like a down-and-out scholar, evoking sympathy rather than fear.

"He really doesn't look the part," Li Muzhan sighed, shaking his head.

Xu Xiaorou remarked, "At the Ninth Grade, if one still cannot conceal the outward appearance and return to simplicity, then it means something is lacking!"

"Is that so..." Li Muzhan suddenly understood and nodded.

...

"Make your move," Senior Brother Zhao said slowly.

"Watch my sword!" Junior Sister Xiang made her move without hesitation. The sword light was clean and swift, transforming into a single point of cold light that instantly reached Senior Brother Zhao’s chest—incredibly fast, as if time and space were nonexistent.

Senior Brother Zhao smiled and shook his head, slowly extending his right hand. He gently pinched the tip of the sword shimmering with cold light between his index and middle fingers.

The sword tip stopped moving, trapped between two fingers. Junior Sister Xiang pulled back with all her might, but the tip remained motionless. Her fair face flushed red as she said resentfully, "Senior Brother Zhao, I concede!"

"Very well then." Senior Brother Zhao released his fingers. Junior Sister Xiang returned her sword to its sheath, shot him a glare, and leaped off the stage directly into the crowd, drawing murmurs of consolation.

The onlookers were quite indignant at Senior Brother Zhao’s behavior—it was clearly bullying, an elder taking advantage of a junior. Senior Brother Zhao watched the crowd below with a faint, detached smile.

Elder Sheng’s sharp eyes fixed on him. She said in a deep voice, "Is there anyone else to challenge? Time is limited, so those who wish to challenge, hurry up, don't dawdle!"

After she spoke, there was still no movement below; no one jumped up.

Elder Sheng glanced at Senior Brother Zhao and snorted, "If no one challenges, he passes the three rounds automatically and enters the Black Stage!"

Still no one came forward. Elder Sheng waved her hand directly. "Little Zhao, step down!"

Senior Brother Zhao acknowledged her, smiled, cupped his hands, and floated off the stage.

"Who else!" Elder Sheng asked sternly.

As soon as her voice fell, another square-faced youth leaped onto the stage. Li Muzhan recognized him as a senior brother from the courtyard, surnamed Wu—a good-natured, simple, and honest person.

He was quickly defeated after getting on stage. Except for Li Muzhan, none of those below the Sixth Grade survived; it seemed the masters above the Sixth Grade had a tacit understanding.

The stage soon became a contest among masters of the Sixth Grade and above. The martial arts were exquisite and powerful. Li Muzhan watched with admiration, benefiting immensely.

After a whole morning had passed, having watched so many bouts, he felt his martial arts had advanced a step further, and his comprehension of the Setting Sun Saber Technique had deepened.

He longed for a chance to put it into practice, and unexpectedly, that chance arrived so soon.

The Yellow Stage contests concluded quickly, with thirty-two people entering the Black Stage. Li Muzhan was among them, but everyone understood he would surely stop there, probably unable to win even one match.

The thirty-two drew lots. Li Muzhan drew number twenty-five and was set to face number nine. This number nine was a black-clad girl—her figure graceful, her features delicate. Though not stunningly beautiful, she was certainly comely.

... Li Muzhan possessed a photographic memory; upon seeing the black-clad girl, he recalled her name: Han Yuzhu.

Han Yuzhu was a Sixth Grade disciple, wielding an exceptionally narrow sword. Her swordsmanship was sharp and subtly sinister, impossible to guard against. When Li Muzhan watched her compete before, he felt a chill run through him, like being bitten by a venomous snake.

"Junior Brother Li, you are done for!" Xu Xiaorou saw his opponent and shook her head. "Senior Sister Han's sword technique is too strange and impossible to defend against; you are certain to lose!"

Li Muzhan nodded with a bitter smile.

Han Yuzhu's swordsmanship was not only fast but also insidious and strange. There was only one way to deal with her: attack preemptively, keep her on the run, and never let her catch her breath.

Achieving this was far from easy. Although the Setting Sun Saber Technique was powerful, it wasn't particularly unique compared to the martial arts of others, and his control wasn't sufficient.

He simulated the engagement in his mind, constantly evolving his saber techniques, absorbing the strengths of various schools.

He could multitask, but at this moment, he focused all his thoughts on deducing the saber technique, appearing blank, staring vacantly, unmoving.

Xu Xiaorou noticed his unusual state. Without disturbing him, she nudged Zhang Qiaoyi and He Ruoshui’s arms. The three women looked at him and smiled faintly.

Zhang Qiaoyi held a finger to her lips: "He's having an epiphany, don't interrupt."

"What good is an epiphany? He can't beat Senior Sister Han!" Xu Xiaorou pouted.

He Ruoshui glanced at Li Muzhan and whispered, "Junior Brother Li has extremely high aptitude; perhaps he really can defeat Senior Sister Han, right, Senior Sister Zhang?"

Zhang Qiaoyi shook her head. "Senior Sister Han's sword technique is the hardest to deal with. If it were anyone else, he might win by luck, but running into Senior Sister Han, his luck is poor."

"I think Junior Brother Li can do it," Ran Ruoshui smiled faintly.

"Tch!" A faint chuckle suddenly came from beside them. The three women turned to see a burly young man with a round face and large eyes shaking his head repeatedly.

Xu Xiaorou glared. "Senior Brother Ba, what are you laughing at?"

The sturdy youth shook his head and laughed, "Junior Brother Li can win? Heh heh... that's a joke!"