"Who said I was kidding?" Xu Xiaorou shot back, her eyes wide. "If I say Junior Brother Li will win, he will win."

"Let's make a wager!" the burly youth chuckled slyly.

"Fine, what are we betting?" Xu Xiaorou agreed without hesitation.

"How about one Peiyuan Pill?" the burly youth proposed.

Xu Xiaorou nodded. "Deal, one Peiyuan Pill!"

The burly youth glanced at the stunned Li Muchan, then smirked triumphantly. Seizing the moment before Xu Xiaorou could ignite, he quickly backed away to the other side.

Xu Xiaorou stamped her foot in frustration. "Hmph, judging a book by its cover!"

Zhang Qiaoyi shook her head. "Rourou, you..."

"He looks down on Junior Brother Li so much, I won't stand for it!" Xu Xiaorou insisted.

Zhang Qiaoyi was unconcerned. "That is clearly Brother Ba using reverse psychology, and you fell for it!"

"I refuse to believe it!" Xu Xiaorou huffed.

Just then, Elder Sheng's voice boomed from above: "Number Nine versus Number Twenty-Five!"

Xu Xiaorou quickly tugged at Li Muchan's sleeve. "Junior Brother Li... it’s your turn!"

Li Muchan shuddered, his clarity returning. He slowly turned his head. "Senior Sister Xu...?"

"Time for you to go up," Xu Xiaorou pouted, glaring fiercely at him. "Junior Brother, you must win this time, or I won't speak to you again!"

Li Muchan smiled and nodded slowly. He didn't actually believe Senior Sister Xu would ignore him, but seeing her desire to win, he certainly couldn't disappoint her expectations.

He pushed off with his legs and leaped onto the high platform. First, he cupped his hands towards Elder Sheng, then turned to salute the crowd. He smiled as Han Yuzhu gracefully floated onto the stage, approaching him delicately.

Her expression was cold, and her icy gaze swept across his face.

"Senior Sister Han, I request your guidance!" Li Muchan clasped his hands.

Han Yuzhu said coolly, "Make your move."

Li Muchan drew both his sabers, holding them before him, and called out, "Then I shall be presumptuous!"

The moment his voice fell, his right saber transformed into a streak of light, sweeping towards her like a long rainbow. It seemed slow, yet it was vicious and precise. Han Yuzhu frowned slightly and was forced to step back.

This strike was seamless, utterly natural, possessing no flaws; she could only meet it head-on, a confrontation she disliked most. Li Muchan pressed his advantage, stepping forward and immediately swinging his left saber, continuing the momentum of the previous strike without pause, intending to suppress her sword intent and prevent her from drawing her full blade. He had clearly discerned Han Yuzhu’s aversion to direct confrontation.

Strike followed strike—left saber, then right saber—an unbroken flow. Han Yuzhu continuously retreated. In the span of a few breaths, he had delivered ten strikes, forcing her back ten steps, which drew murmurs of discussion from the onlookers.

Although Li Muchan’s saber techniques were impressive, his cultivation was clearly shallow. Yet, he managed to force Han Yuzhu back. Amidst their surprise, the crowd understood his tactic and sighed inwardly at his cleverness.

They immediately shook their heads; this method wouldn't defeat Han Yuzhu. If she were this easy to handle, she wouldn't be a Sixth-Rank master. Still, Junior Brother Li was indeed sharp—it was remarkable he even conceived of such a strategy.

………………………………………………………………

Han Yuzhu's delicate face darkened. Being pushed so hard by a newly initiated junior brother meant that even a victory would be embarrassing. She let out a soft sound, and a flash of sword light illuminated Li Muchan's eyes.

Her thoughts shifted, and Li Muchan immediately felt a premonition, inwardly cursing that things were turning bad. He abruptly retracted his left saber, sweeping it around his body to form a curtain of light, while his right saber struck out again—one offense, one defense.

"Clang..." The saber and sword met.

The saber defense paused for a beat, and the right saber pivoted, sweeping back horizontally.

Han Yuzhu’s expression flickered. The force transmitted through her blade surprised her; she hadn't expected a junior brother who had just entered the sect to possess such immense strength. Her longsword nearly flew from her grasp.

She faltered for a critical moment, just as her long saber swept across. With no other option, she retreated to evade the blade's edge, only to advance again.

Li Muchan maintained his stance: one saber defending, one attacking. His long sabers were imbued with tremendous power—pure physical might, even the force of pure Yang. Han Yuzhu’s swordsmanship was subtle and strange, often striking from unimaginable angles, but Li Muchan’s saber light shielded him like a turtle's shell, offering no gaps.

To strike him, she had to collide with the saber light first. At that moment of impact, Li Muchan’s other saber would immediately follow up, forcing her retreat.

This back and forth repeated. After more than a dozen exchanges, her fair cheeks flushed, and her eyes glittered coldly. She grew increasingly furious; if this continued, she would be laughed out of existence.

She gritted her teeth, glared venomously at Li Muchan, and her sword suddenly began to tremble, humming audibly, as if suddenly imbued with life and eager to break free.

Xu Xiaorou gasped. "Not good! It’s the 'Moth to the Flame' Sword Stance!"

The other two women looked grave, watching the arena intently.

"We have to get Junior Brother down!" Xu Xiaorou urged anxiously.

Zhang Qiaoyi shook her head. "Relax, Elder Sheng is watching. He won't let Junior Brother Li get hurt!"

He Ruoshui pursed her lips, frowning. "The Moth to the Flame is too fast. I worry Elder Sheng won't be able to stop it in time!"

"If Elder Sheng can't stop it, he will issue a command to halt the fight; don't worry," Zhang Qiaoyi replied, though her delicate eyebrows were furrowed as she fixed her gaze on the battle.

The moment Li Muchan saw Han Yuzhu’s transformation, a chill ran down his spine, and the hairs on his body stood erect. A wave of cold air rose from his tailbone, traveled up his spine, through his joints, and settled at the base of his skull.

His mind cleared. Staring intently, his saber technique suddenly shifted—from the previous one offense, one defense setup to a purely defensive posture. Both sabers protected him simultaneously, one Yin and one Yang, one rigid and one yielding, one slow and one fast, forming two layers of shimmering saber light.

Just as he completed the stance change, a dazzling beam of sword light erupted, brilliant and blinding. People instinctively squinted to avoid being scorched by the radiance.

……………………………… "Clink... Clink, clink, clink, clink..." Within the searing light, a continuous cascade of clear ringing sounded, dense and incessant, like rain drumming on banana leaves.

Li Muchan moved his sabers rapidly backward. Waves of surging force hammered against his swords, nearly causing his meridians to explode. Fortunately, his meridians were unusually robust, barely managing to withstand the onslaught. He used his Yi Hua Jie Mu technique to divert this incoming internal energy directly down through his feet. With every step back, he left a distinct indentation.

This surging internal energy was intensely chilling. His foundational art, the Canghai Divine Art, employed a Yin and yielding cultivation method, so his meridians were accustomed to it and could endure the shock.

Li Muchan retreated from the center all the way to the edge of the platform; another step and he would fall off, resulting in a loss.

It was as if Li Muchan could perceive the boundary behind him. At the critical juncture, he stopped; no matter how brilliant the sword light or how explosive the attack, his feet remained rooted.

After more than a dozen fierce strikes, his feet were submerged up to his ankles in the ground before the sword light finally dimmed. Han Yuzhu leaned on her sword, panting heavily, glaring at him.

Her fair face was now even paler, entirely drained of color, and the light in her eyes had dimmed, making her look wan and slightly haggard, as if recovering from a serious illness. Her chest rose and fell violently, and sweat beaded on her forehead as she stared fixedly at Li Muchan.

Li Muchan pulled his feet free from the ground, cupped his hands, and asked, "Senior Sister Han, shall we continue?"

He, too, was gasping for air. That storm of furious assault had left him breathless, his arms aching, and his entire body throbbing with dull pain. While his meridians held, the internal energy washing through them felt like being pricked by needles.

"Come on!" Han Yuzhu snorted, straightened up, raised her sword, and pointed it levelly at Li Muchan.

Li Muchan perceived her extreme weakness; a mere breeze could knock her over. He paused, then sheathed his sabers, bowed, and said, "This junior lacks the strength to fight further. Senior Sister Han, I concede this round!"

With that, he bowed once more to the Elder Sheng, then leaped down beside Xu Xiaorou.

He met Xu Xiaorou's concerned gaze, offering an embarrassed smile. "Senior Sister Xu, I lost!"

Xu Xiaorou glanced at the stunned Han Yuzhu still standing on the platform, then shot him a glare. "Hmph, you lost? You sly dog, I never realized you were such a chivalrous admirer of beauty!"

Li Muchan rubbed his nose with a wry smile. "I truly exerted all my strength. My hands are still trembling!" He spread his palms and shook them slightly.

"Smack!" Xu Xiaorou slapped his hands down. "You cherish beauty, yet you cost me a Peiyuan Pill!"

Li Muchan quickly replied, "It's fine, the Peiyuan Pills I have are useless anyway. I'll give them back to you, Senior Sister!"

"Hmm!" Xu Xiaorou’s bright eyes widened fiercely. "Useless? Does that mean I went through all this trouble giving you something worthless?"

Li Muchan forced a smile. "Who knew that the Lake Master promoted me to cultivate the ancient Qi Refining technique, making Peiyuan Pills unusable? It's my misfortune for not being able to share in Senior Sister's good luck!"

Senior Sister Xu was usually gentle; her petulance today seemed odd.

…………………………………………”，……………………，“Alright, Rourou, stop teasing Junior Brother Li!" Zhang Qiaoyi interjected, shaking her head.

Xu Xiaorou huffed. "Who told him to be so soft-hearted? He looks honest, but he’s quite the flirtatious rogue!"

"Junior Brother Li did the right thing," Zhang Qiaoyi commented. "The disparity between them was negligible to begin with."

Xu Xiaorou ceased arguing but still shot Li Muchan a fierce glare.

Li Muchan chuckled, finding the situation amusing. It seemed Senior Sister Xu was jealous. Could it be she liked him? He didn't use the Wuxin Tong (Mind-Reading Skill); when his divine ability first manifested, he was thrilled, but later realized the downside: seeing through people’s hearts stripped life of its pleasure and beauty. Now, he used it sparingly.

Xu Xiaorou rolled her eyes at him. "What are you looking at! Look up there!"

Li Muchan realized he had been staring at her blankly and smiled sheepishly, then turned his gaze toward the stage. Han Yuzhu was sheathing her sword, giving him one last sharp look before stepping down without a word.

Elder Sheng glanced at her but said nothing more. "Number Nine and Number Twenty-Five are a draw. Both are eliminated. Number Ten and Number Twenty-Six, step up!"

A draw counted as a loss for both, a rule implemented to prevent collusion.

Xu Xiaorou brightened. "Elder Sheng truly has discerning eyes—it was a draw!"

Li Muchan shook his head. "Mutual destruction. Too costly!"

Xu Xiaorou turned and glared at him. "Stop talking nonsense!"

Li Muchan rubbed his nose and laughed. Zhang Qiaoyi intervened. "Rourou, don't be unreasonable. I think Junior Brother did the right thing!"

Xu Xiaorou huffed, acknowledging internally that she was being deliberately unreasonable.

Subsequently, competitor after competitor took the stage. These bouts were even more spectacular than the previous Yellow Arena matches. Only true rivals could force the display of ultimate skills. Li Muchan watched, utterly absorbed, greedily drinking in their techniques. He absorbed every move as if recording it, branding it onto his memory for later playback and study, aiming to synthesize the strengths of a hundred schools.

Studying these would immensely benefit his understanding of the Saber Way, allowing him to integrate certain moves and continuously refine his techniques.

His great-uncle, Lan Chun, who once forced him into seclusion to evolve the Canghai Nine Palms into the Canghai Nine Swords, had profoundly influenced him, removing any mental barrier to innovating techniques.

Most masters focused on comprehending their inherent martial arts and refining their skill level. When observing others’ techniques, they did so only to find ways for their own art to counter them, aiding their comprehension of their primary style. The same form, understood differently, yielded varying power when executed. They would never rashly alter their own martial arts lineage.

Each set of techniques was the distilled essence of predecessors’ wisdom, honed over generations. For a descendant to fully grasp it was already remarkable; daring to step beyond those boundaries was deemed sacrilege.

Li Muchan held no such reservation. Lan Chun’s prior instruction had directly overturned this traditional mindset. It was clear that a great teacher produces an outstanding student.

……………… By the end of the day, the Heaven, Earth, Black, and Yellow Arenas concluded. The ultimate victor was a Ninth-Rank disciple named Xia Wufeng, a dashing and handsome young man heralded as the foremost genius of Star Lake.

Within Star Lake Villa, where genius was commonplace, being termed a 'genius' signified being exceptional among the exceptional. He was rumored to be the youngest Ninth-Rank disciple. Most other Ninth-Rank disciples remained hidden in the mountains or ventured out from the villa, rarely appearing. Many were older and lacked the inclination to join such petty competitions, thus not participating in the duels.

Li Muchan stared at Xia Wufeng, filled with admiration. His martial arts were astonishingly unique; every move and stance appeared deceptively simple, showing no overt complexity, yet they inevitably secured victory. His opponents displayed unparalleled, exquisite techniques; watching them was like savoring fine wine, indescribably marvelous. Li Muchan felt he couldn't block a single move.

Yet, Xia Wufeng neutralized these with deceptively simple methods. His skill had reached the state of Hua Pu Gui Zhen—returning simplicity to the essential. He was supremely clever through apparent awkwardness, achieving dazzling heights only to return to the mundane, simplifying complexity—a profoundly high realm.

Li Muchan felt he was far from that state. His own techniques had not yet reached the zenith of brilliance where true simplicity emerges; the road to that plateau was long, and he didn't know when he might arrive.

Xia Wufeng was certainly a genius, but Li Muchan realized he himself did not truly qualify. He had previously felt a degree of arrogance, relying on his Guan Tian Ren Shen Zhao Jing, the relics, and his divine abilities. But after witnessing the martial arts displayed by his senior brothers and sisters on stage, he felt ashamed, realizing how ignorant he had been. There were always those better than oneself; there was always a higher heaven.

The entire villa was draped with red lanterns, creating a festive atmosphere. Many disciples had purchased firecrackers from Xiushui City and set them off with crackling sounds, lending a livelier air to the island than usual.

Li Muchan felt a pang of melancholy, wondering what was happening at Canghai Mountain, what his master was doing, and what Senior Sister Mei and Senior Sister Wen were up to. Did they miss him?

He left his courtyard and wandered up the mountain path to clear his head. Walking alone on the rugged terrain, he reached the mountainside and looked down at the scenery: the lake was like a mirror, and the surrounding forest was deep green, vibrantly alive—truly magnificent scenery.

His spirit lifted spontaneously. He suddenly turned his gaze upward and saw a young man in a blue robe standing on the cliff above, his clothing fluttering in the wind. Li Muchan peered intently, recognizing him as Xia Wufeng, the Ninth-Rank disciple who took first place.

Intrigued, he quickened his pace, utilizing his movement technique to ascend. There was no path beneath his feet, only jagged stones and thick vegetation; without his lightness skill, passage would be impossible.