After walking for over ten li, Xuanyuan Yiren suddenly halted her steps. She turned back to look at Li Yungang with a cold stare that held an unmistakable chill.

"Or perhaps," she added, her voice sharp, "you have nothing to report to me at all?"

Li Yungang, startled, stopped in her tracks behind her. She carefully observed Yiren, noticing the barely concealed anger simmering in her beautiful eyes.

She couldn't help but sigh inwardly. Miss was, after all, too clever; she couldn't be easily deceived. Perhaps she had managed to fool her at first, but upon reflection, she would surely sense something was amiss.

Hesitating, Li Yungang watched the coldness on Xuanyuan Yiren's delicate face deepen. A shiver ran through her, completely extinguishing any thought of further deception. With a slight curtsey, she spoke, "Please forgive me, Miss. Before I followed you to Yunsheng City, the Mistress gave explicit instructions: Miss must not be involved in any of the disputes of Qiantian Mountain City. That is why I took it upon myself to—"

"Is that so?"

Xuanyuan Yiren's delicate eyebrows arched sharply. Then, forcefully masking the helpless sadness in her eyes, she gave a self-deprecating smile. "I truly never realized, Yunniang, that you were so fiercely loyal. But your audacity is frankly too great. To dare use such petty tricks and make decisions for me! If you are so determined to obey my mother, then return to Xuanshan City by yourself. Yiren has no need for a loyal servant like you!"

Just as she was about to turn back the way they came, she suddenly saw Li Yungang abruptly draw her sword, blocking the path ahead.

Xuanyuan Yiren froze, staring at her in stunned surprise. Li Yungang dared not meet her gaze, keeping her head bowed, yet an unwavering determination shone in her eyes. "Miss, I have always obeyed you, never once going against your wishes. But just this once, I cannot. Today, Miss absolutely cannot go any further!"

Xuanyuan Yiren's pupils contracted. Frowning, she glanced towards the direction of the Fanyun carriage, but unfortunately, a mountain dip obscured the view of what was happening there.

She recalled the words Tiger Qianqiu had spoken earlier, and a tightness immediately gripped her heart. She wondered if Zong Shou had returned yet. If he failed to satisfy Tiger Qianqiu, would this Lord of Qiantian Mountain City truly take Zong Shou’s life, as he had threatened?

This man was a Black Tortoise Grandmaster of the Eighth Meridian of the Earth Wheel. His martial prowess was immense. How could she possibly save Zong Shou?

Thinking of this, a flash of inspiration struck Xuanyuan Yiren, and she turned back to Li Yungang. "Yunniang, are you hiding something else from me? Did you deliberately lure me here because you didn't want me to see something?"

Li Yungang's face instantly paled, turning ashen.

The saber was seven chi long and a foot and a half wide. Carved onto its blade was a winged dream tiger roaring toward the sky. Reflected in the firelight, it shimmered like an autumn pool, casting off arcs of cold, stunning light.

Tiger Qianqiu held the saber, standing ten zhang away from Zong Shou, also pointing it forward. His pupils glowed faintly. There was no true battle intent in his chest, only an incessant, surging of vital blood.

An emotion of extreme excitement, mixed with peak anticipation and joy, was suppressed deep within his heart, unable to be vented.

His gaze softened slightly. Only once his breathing was regulated and his mind returned to a stable calm did Tiger Qianqiu lift his robes and hair slightly, unleashing a fierce, majestic aura that pressed down on the surroundings.

"A fine union of sword and intent! Bring it on! For the past ten years, your Uncle Hu has dreamed countless times that one day the young lord would ask me to teach him martial arts, just like today, but it never came to pass. Today, we can truly enjoy ourselves! Let me see what you learned during your three years at Linhai Academy!"

Zong Shou’s expression shifted subtly, but he remained silent. A strange light flickered in his eyes, and in the next instant, his figure transitioned from extreme stillness to extreme motion. His right foot slammed down, and his entire body’s strength erupted like a nuclear blast, surging into the channels and meridians, burning fiercely. He shot forward with a howl, swift as disappearing lightning, flickering in and out of everyone’s sight. He thrust his sword out—a soul-snatching attack that, under the darkness of night, was like a stream of form-breaking light, soaring towards his opponent!

Then, the next moment, a sharp clang echoed throughout the area. Tiger Qianqiu casually swept his saber, deflecting the force of the sword strike. He threw his head back and roared with laughter, filled with infinite delight and joy. With a mighty tiger roar, he exclaimed,

"Good! This sword is excellent, and the sword momentum is superb! It’s actually the Eighth Meridian of the Body Wheel, Innate Outer Elixir! Yin Yang, you were right; the young lord truly has not disappointed Tiger Qianqiu! No, he’s a delightful surprise! An unbelievable joy—"

Dozens of zhang away, a soft thud was heard. Zong Ling froze completely, letting the pork leg he was holding drop to the ground. Grease smeared his mouth, but he had no time to wipe it away; he could only stare fixedly at the lightly dancing, ghost-like figure by the bonfire.

Had he misseen? Was that person really his cousin, Zong Shou? Hadn't they said he possessed dual meridians and could not practice martial arts? Just moments ago, he had specifically sensed it—there was absolutely no internal energy within him.

How could he possibly possess the Eighth Meridian of the Body Wheel?!

It wasn't just Zong Ling; behind him, Huang Xiao and the others were also stunned into silence, exchanging bewildered glances.

On top of the carriage, Hu Zhongyuan's expression was a masterpiece of shifting colors—from ashen to deeply flushed with shame. He had sensed something when Zong Shou issued his challenge, linking his intent and sword. But only now was it truly confirmed.

The Young Lord genuinely knew martial arts, and his cultivation was not low! The Eighth Meridian of the Body Wheel—and he was still only thirteen, wasn't he?

At this moment, he desperately wanted to slap himself hard.

Only Zong Yuan laughed out loud again, as if mocking everyone present for their previous blindness. His eyes shone brilliantly, never leaving the two figures locked in combat.

As the sword light first appeared, Zong Shou’s face remained perfectly calm, but the blood coursing through his body began to grow excited, and his fighting spirit gradually ignited. Yet, his mind remained nearly ice-cold, unified with the sword.

Today, he could fight unrestrainedly! Without worrying about gains or losses, without needing to use soul arts—he would determine the victor solely with the sword in his hand, a truly exhilarating confrontation. His figure smoothly retreated slightly, then surged forward again. The sword light burst forth, instantly unleashing ten sword shadows that cleaved violently, piercing into the existing blade light.

"That is the Fierce Sword. Where did you learn it? You wield it well!"

Tiger Qianqiu chuckled, sweeping his saber across in a single strike, parrying and knocking back all ten sword shadows.

Zong Shou’s sword shadows did not dissipate. Suddenly, they became eerie and unpredictable, the path of the sword wavering, piercing through the most unlikely angles without reservation, aiming straight for Tiger Qianqiu’s vital points.

Tiger Qianqiu let out another exclamation of surprise.

"That is the Eerie Sword? Did you learn from the Eerie Sword Ren Qianchou, or perhaps someone else? Heh! Form and spirit are perfectly matched, but you wield it much better than he does, much better!"

The saber light still swung out simply, resolving the crisis. At his level of mastery, transformation was unnecessary; he could conquer all with sheer power. No matter how exquisite the technique, it could be shattered by force!

Facing Zong Shou, even holding back ninety percent of his strength, he could easily defend. The Black Tortoise of the Eighth Meridian of the Earth Wheel was nearly the pinnacle below the Celestial Rank!

Zong Shou remained relentless. The Leiya Sword in his hand flashed out dozens more sword shadows. This time, it was like a volcanic eruption, and Zong Shou’s demeanor seemed overwhelmingly furious. With clanging sounds, they struck the blade light, each sword blow heavier and more frenzied than the last.

Tiger Qianqiu paid no mind, standing his ground without moving.

He swung the seven-chi Hubadao casually, becoming increasingly energized, watching with interest. "That’s the Furious Sword? This one is wielded somewhat poorly this time. Your swordsmanship is ten times superior to Cloud Waves of the Furious Sword from Yunxia Mountain. However, you haven't managed to learn that fellow’s fiery temper. Young Lord, your heart remains utterly still during combat. You fail to grasp the essence!"

Between the two, blade light and sword shadows flashed continuously, nearly ten strikes per instant, edges crossing and changing, as if every moment brought a different technique.

What Tiger Qianqiu said barely registered with Hu Zhongyuan, but Zong Ling and Zong Yuan were both profoundly shaken, struck with utter astonishment.

—Fierce Sword, Wu Wei "Lan Hua," Savage Sword, Xie Jun, Furious Sword, Yun Tao. Without exception, these were all people who had previously crossed blades with Zong Shou.

Hearing Tiger Qianqiu’s commentary, it sounded as if Zong Shou had not only mastered their techniques but surpassed them!

The next moment, Zong Yuan’s eyes widened again. He saw purple lightning flashing around Zong Shou’s hand. Driven by this thunderous power, it was as if the air resistance had been completely nullified; the sword light crisscrossed with terrifying speed.

This was clearly his Purple Thunder Spear technique! Yet it was faster, more perfect, and to his eyes, the transitions between moves appeared utterly flawless.

In that instant, Zong Yuan even had the illusion that the creator of the Purple Thunder Spear was not himself, but Zong Shou.

As expected, Tiger Qianqiu’s voice carried even greater surprise.

"Is this Zong Yuan's little Purple Thunder Spear? Wielding a spear technique with a sword—he actually captured its true rhythm! A stroke of genius, exquisitely brilliant! If refined further, it could reach the level of Ultimate Skill. Young Lord, is your relationship with Zong Yuan exceptionally close? Or perhaps you taught him his spear technique? That fellow didn't learn it very well. Again—"

Zong Yuan was so angry he nearly spat blood. Meanwhile, Tiger Qianqiu let out another sound of astonishment. "This is the Blood Slaughter Sword Art! Ten Thousand Blood Slaughter Li Xieling?"

Zong Yuan’s spirit shook, and focusing his attention, he immediately felt a torrent of bloodlust wash over him.

In the distance, Zong Shou’s expression was cold and severe. Every sword stroke he unleashed seemed imbued with boundless killing intent—simple, pure, and utterly fatal!

Tiger Qianqiu’s expression gradually grew solemn. The saber in his hand was no longer swung casually; every slice followed an arcane trajectory, precisely intercepting Zong Shou’s every attempted path. "Where did the Young Lord learn this sword art? If I didn't know you were at Linhai Academy, and that there was no killing intent here, I would truly believe the Young Lord had slaughtered ten thousand people like Li Xieling—killing his mother and his wife! However, while all these sword techniques are excellent, they don't seem to be your own things—"

Seeing Tiger Qianqiu shake his head, Zong Shou smiled. Since displaying the Fierce Sword, his goal had been to verify everything he had learned in recent days. Now, it was time to get serious.

The sword momentum shifted without warning, instantly transforming, illusory and dreamlike!