At the foot of the stone steps outside the Iron Gang Hall, Xuan Yuan Yiren stood gazing with intense longing.

Her small hands would clench fiercely, then loosen just as quickly. She longed to sneak a peek, yet the stone hall was built with absolute solidity. The few windows were set high above.

She could only wait outside in helpless frustration, wishing she possessed a Spirit Art of the Day Roaming Realm that could simply ignore these walls. “I wonder how the conversation between Zong Shou and Father is going now?”

Recalling Xuan Yuan Tong’s stern expression when she came out, Xuan Yuan Yiren’s delicate eyebrows furrowed again in deep worry. But just as quickly, her heart settled. Zong Shou wasn’t lacking in eloquence, always speaking with propriety and measure. He would surely manage a good talk with Father. As long as he displayed even a sliver of his true capability, their parents’ worries would dissolve; there was truly nothing left to fret over.

If Father saw his swordsmanship, he would surely be as elated as a tiger soaring a thousand autumns—such joyous surprise. Perhaps he would drag Zong Shou off for a proper drink.

Thinking of this, Xuan Yuan Yiren’s eyes immediately filled with eager anticipation, the corners of her lips turning up in a brilliant smile.

This sudden happiness caused the armored Martial Masters guarding the vicinity to pause in their duties. Though they didn't know why the little princess of Black Mountain City was so delighted, that smile was truly beautiful, a pleasing sight to behold. But the moment they recalled that this exquisite flower might soon be offered to the one currently inside the hall, their hearts ached anew.

Inside the stone hall, however, the atmosphere was nowhere near the harmony Xuan Yuan Yiren imagined. Blade shadows flashed, and Zong Shou’s figure instantly dissolved. To the onlookers, it seemed as if countless Zong Shous had appeared, or perhaps he had remained rooted in place the entire time.

Immediately following this, a sharp keng rang out. As the myriad sword lights retracted, one saw that the halberd of Zhu Junhou and the Mandarin Duck Blades of Tan Tao had inexplicably clashed together. Before astonishment could even flicker in their eyes, both men were driven backward several steps by the immense force of the collision.

The sword light in Zong Shou’s hand scattered forth once more, pinpricks of light enveloping Zhu Junhou. From his lips came a light, dismissive hum: “Let go!”

Zhu Junhou’s eyes immediately flashed with sharp anger. But the next instant, he was startled anew. The sword light before him seemed to transform into a magnificent River of Stars, descending like a celestial torrent, blindingly brilliant. As his vision swam, he felt that every inch of his body was suddenly exposed, riddled with flaws. The sword light seemed to target all his vital points simultaneously.

In that moment, he finally understood the suffering of Luo Yan, why he had allowed Zong Shou to beat him like a fool. Such a sword was simply impossible to block, inescapable! Beneath the coverage of those myriad stars, he was utterly lost, knowing no way to counter. How could this heir of the Heavenly Dry Mountain possess such exquisite, terrifying swordsmanship? Where had he learned it?

After a momentary panic, Zhu Junhou bit hard on his tongue, realizing there was no alternative when facing such swordplay: only to risk his life, counter-attack with offense, exchange life for life, and fight back with an even more formidable momentum!

But just as the true energy within his body began to gather, he felt a slight tap on his wrist. Then, the short halberd slipped from his grasp, spinning away into the distance.

When the curtain of blade shadows slightly receded, Zong Shou, hidden behind them, cast his gaze over again, frowning slightly before his expression smoothed out.

“Mm, you’re not a bad person, reasonably polite. I won’t beat you.”

With a flash of his sword, he lightly struck the sides of Zhu Junhou’s thighs, causing the man to collapse completely onto the ground, unable to move. The short halberd he’d tossed away finally spun down, embedding itself precisely beside his skull. Zhu Junhou could even feel the cold sharpness of the blade. His face flushed crimson, devoid of any feeling of relief or joy; mixed with shame was utter shock.

What kind of monster was this youth? Those two recent sword strikes must have utilized a Sword Intent he had never encountered before. Even if not fully realized, it was close to that level—yet it was displayed by the son of a benefactor whom he himself had held in low regard just moments ago! He wasn't sure whether to be angry or pleased at this moment.

“Sword Intent! It’s Sword Intent again!”

Deep within the hall, Xuan Yuan Tong’s hand began to tremble. The shard of the wine cup he gripped crumbled into grains of sand, sifting through his fingers. The very first strike had been the Startling Cloud Divine Annihilation Sword Intent, blended with the Illusionary Arts innate ability of the Heavenly Fox Clan; even he couldn't discern it clearly. And now, it was the River of Stars Sword Intent, manifesting a splendor that mirrored the celestial river upon execution.

His emotions now were infinitely more complex than before! Every sword strike Zong Shou used to whip Luo Yan felt like a heavy slap across his own face. Mixed with mortification was the pain for his capable subordinate being so thoroughly thrashed. Faintly, a thread of regret began to weave in. Zong Shou’s final words while striking Luo Yan had pierced his heart directly. He realized that his earlier words must have truly wounded the boy’s heart, provoking Zong Shou’s intense rage. He couldn't help a bitter chuckle; the son of his old friend possessed such talent, he ought to be overjoyed. But why could he not find happiness now?

Lin Shina was frozen in place, sitting dumbly on the floor, watching everything unfold. In truth, during those first few days, Yiren had mentioned it to her, speaking of how her fiancé would surely excel to her astonishment. She had also said that if anyone was unworthy, it would be Yiren herself. At the time, she had refused to believe that Zong Shou’s mind was still a complete muddle. Yet, instinctively, she had first dealt with the halberd-wielding man nearby. Zhu Junhou gave her the feeling of being intensely, dangerously threatening—far more so than Luo Yan or Tan Tao. It had been a surprise attack; in a true battle, she might not have won, so neutralizing him first was paramount.

When he turned around, he saw Tan Tao rushing forward again, wielding the Mandarin Duck Blades. His expression was one of unprecedented gravity and caution; the blade light, once unleashed, was incredibly tight, revealing not even a sliver of opening. It was like a torrential storm, an all-out, frenzied slash and chop.

Zong Shou’s eyes narrowed, then he offered his habitual, slight smile. He stepped forward, advancing instead of retreating. It was as if he were back practicing his sword in the swirling currents at the bottom of the Black Water Pool—utterly composed and swiftly moving. He weaved effortlessly through the storm of blade shadows, dodging left and right. After barely ten steps, just as the twin blades were about to force him into a corner, the sword in his hand—almost forgotten by everyone else—flashed anew. In an instant, too fast to track, he thrust out a single blade!

It was like a pike darting through the water, an arrow piercing through the blade lights, aimed directly at Tan Tao’s vital throat! This strike, created underwater, was named ‘Countercurrent’! A thousand strikes underwater, shattering the hidden currents, hence the name ‘Counter’. Refined through countless trials, perhaps it lacked the strangeness of the Styx Death Sword or the finesse of the Startling Cloud Divine Annihilation. But this strike was undoubtedly one of the strongest in his entire swordsmanship repertoire. When it was unleashed, it was unsolvable! In this life or the last, there was no exception!

Tan Tao immediately felt a surge of horror. His blade light danced uselessly. The sword light was piercing the exact gap between his twin blades, seeming intimately familiar with his blade path, rendering all his attempts at blocking futile during his transition.

He could only retreat! Retreating madly. But the sword light clung to him like a stubborn disease, rapidly closing in on his vital throat!

Just as Tan Tao descended into despair, and even Xuan Yuan Tong involuntarily stood up, preparing to intervene and save him, the sword light abruptly curled back. It lightly tapped both of Tan Tao’s wrists. The two Mandarin Duck Blades flew up, tumbling through the air before landing and embedding themselves in the ground.

However, Tan Tao’s body instantly became disordered in its internal energy, freezing him in place. The sword light then flashed toward him once more.

“I dislike insidious and cunning people like you the most. You deserve a beating!”

With a single thrust, Zong Shou struck Tan Tao’s face, leaving a bloody gash. Recalling the earlier events, Zong Shou snorted, “You talk quite sharply. Too talkative!” The light shifted, instantly returning to strike the man’s other cheekbone with the flat of the blade.

Tan Tao had just managed to regain some composure when he was struck again. Blood and foam immediately sprayed from his mouth; he felt utterly grief-stricken and indignant. He prided himself on his intelligence and formidable martial arts. In Black Mountain City, he held great authority, second only to two or three others. Everyone else treated him with utmost respect, even those of higher status or greater martial prowess were polite to him. How could he have ever suffered such humiliation as today?

His current greatest fear was whether he, too, would be mercilessly thrashed by this youth, just like Luo Yan—that would truly mean losing all face. Fortunately, Zong Shou paused in his assault and thought for a moment. While this man was inwardly treacherous, he still maintained a semblance of dignity in his speech, leaving no clear opening for attack. Beating him now seemed difficult to justify. In his previous life, his temper was volatile, and when he first rose to prominence, he rarely bothered with reason. It was only after returning to the library to live in seclusion, slowly cultivating his temperament, that he gradually became more peaceful. Therefore, in this life, he must subdue others through virtue.

With a faint look of reluctance, Zong Shou let him go, but not before lightly pressing a spot on Tan Tao’s neck, temporarily sealing his meridian points. He then unceremoniously kicked him away.

His sword light flipped, and once more struck heavily upon the head of the struggling Luo Yan, who was attempting to rise.

“Still trying to get up? Are you not yet convinced?”

Luo Yan’s head was already covered in blood. As he crashed back to the ground, a crisp crack sounded—a faint fissure appeared even on the floor made of Iron Gang Rock. His eyes were vacant, utterly devoid of strength or anger now, only a fear that had burrowed into his heart and a profound sense of helplessness.

And Zong Shou’s gaze finally turned toward Xuan Yuan Tong.