Li Muchen frowned. "Even if I were foolish, I wouldn't dare challenge the Qinghe Sword Sect. Trying to smash an egg against a rock—I’m not that stupid!"

Zheng Haishi shook his head. "That’s not necessarily true. Countless people wish to annihilate my Qinghe Sword Sect; you’re just one more!"

Li Muchen sneered. "A guilty conscience needs no excuse. Does the Qinghe Sword Sect intend to eliminate me?"

Zheng Haishi said gravely, "We are always cautious. We've investigated Baishan thoroughly; no one lives there. I’ll ask one more time... just who exactly are you?"

Li Muchen replied, "My name does not change, nor do I renounce my surname. Li Canghai of Baishan! ...Very well, I’d like to see what skills your Qinghe Sword Sect possesses!"

"Splendid!" Zheng Haishi clapped his hands and smiled faintly. "Tenth Junior Brother, come in!"

"Yes!" A young swordsman strode into the hall in just a few steps. His bearing was upright, radiating vigor; he resembled a drawn treasure sword, startlingly sharp.

He clasped his hands in a salute, then turned to fix Li Muchen with an electric gaze.

Li Muchen frowned, observing the youth. The young swordsman’s features were handsome, a stark contrast to the aggressive sharpness he exuded. His cultivation was clearly high, worthy of a disciple from a major, prestigious school—a cut above his elder brothers and sisters.

"Tenth Junior Brother, please test Young Master Li’s renowned skills!" Zheng Haishi instructed.

"Yes!" the Tenth Junior Brother responded solemnly, slowly drawing his longsword. The blade flashed like snow, emitting a biting coldness that washed over them. Li Muchen sized up the weapon; it was indeed a genuine treasure.

"Young Master Li, please—!" the young swordsman said gravely.

Zheng Haishi continued, "Young Master Li, this is my Tenth Junior Brother, Shang Zhihe. He has long heard of Young Master Li’s great name and desired a sparring session. Please oblige him!"

Li Muchen smiled, then shook his head. "Please lead the way!"

It sounded polite, but what choice did he have? As far as he could tell, they weren't ready to sever ties yet; they only intended to probe his true capabilities first. The more renowned the sect, the more cautious they were.

These esteemed sects were far from what people imagined. Though powerful, they never engaged in reckless displays of temper, rarely showing their true formidable nature upfront. They often maintained a facade of courtesy, only baring their fangs at the absolute last moment.

"Behold my move!" Shang Zhihe roared, fusing man and sword into one, instantly appearing before Li Muchen, giving him no time to react.

Li Muchen swayed lightly, evading the chilling sword thrust, even as his left index finger tapped out a soft "Chi" sound.

"Clang…" Shang Zhihe’s expression shifted abruptly. He hurriedly pulled back his sword to parry the incoming finger energy, sliding back a full zhang on the ground, staring at Li Muchen in astonishment.

Li Muchen shook his head. "You are no match for me. Perhaps Young Master Zheng should try himself!"

"Hmph!" Shang Zhihe’s handsome face darkened. His form flickered, dissolving into a blur of phantom images, his sword light receding into the haze. Everything became indistinct.

Li Muchen flicked his body lightly again, and a cold glimmer flashed behind him. Shang Zhihe materialized directly behind him, frowning at Li Muchen, before immediately dissolving into another phantom image.

Li Muchen quietly admired the technique; this footwork was profound and unpredictable. Without the Tianji Jue, he might easily have been deceived. This phantom image didn't just trick the eyes; it confused the senses, making it feel as though the person was still in front of him.

After being evaded once more, Shang Zhihe stared at Li Muchen in surprise, never expecting his movement technique to be broken so easily. This body technique was incredibly difficult to master, yet ever since he succeeded, none of his senior brothers could evade it, forced instead to rely on crude defensive methods, like guarding against hidden weapons.

Li Muchen pressed down with his left thumb, and Shang Zhihe swung his sword—Dang! The sword nearly flew from his grasp, and the countless sword shadows and pervasive cold air vanished. Shang Zhihe stumbled back two paces, swaying as if drunk.

"Tenth Junior Brother, you are outmatched. Stand down," Zheng Haishi advised with a shake of his head.

Shang Zhihe said solemnly, "I will try again!"

Zheng Haishi sighed and shook his head, ceasing his persuasion. The gap in their cultivation was substantial, and Li Canghai's finger techniques were too marvelous; even the most exquisite sword arts could not reach him if he could not make contact.

Shang Zhihe held his sword across his chest and took a deep breath. After three such breaths, the sharpness radiating from him was completely drawn back into the sword. The blade grew brighter and brighter.

Li Muchen’s gaze shifted from the man to the sword. The blade intensified until it seemed like concentrated sunlight was shining directly upon it, the light flickering incessantly, like a snake flicking its tongue, emitting a chilling coldness.

Li Muchen sensed danger. This strike would certainly be world-shattering, something he absolutely could not meet head-on. The thought had barely surfaced when he darted aside.

"Chi!" A streak of white light sliced past his side, striking the vermilion pillar opposite him. With a dull bang, like an explosion, the massive pillar, requiring two men to hug, snapped clean in half from the center.

Li Muchen jumped, turning to look. If this strike had landed on him, he genuinely couldn't say for sure whether he could have blocked it. The Qinghe Sword Sect truly could not be underestimated. This ultimate move concentrated several times the user's power into a single blow—its might was limitless. Without proper defense, it would be difficult to withstand.

Shang Zhihe's face was pale, his eyes fixed on Li Muchen, deeply unwilling to accept defeat. Had he landed that blow, the result would have been death or grievous injury, yet the target had evaded it.

Li Muchen’s expression hardened. "Young Master Zheng, it seems you intend to kill me!"

Zheng Haishi shook his head. "That was merely the Tenth Junior Brother acting on impulse... Tenth Junior Brother, cease this nonsense!"

Shang Zhihe let out a resentful hum, turned, and walked away with unsteady steps.

Li Muchen watched him leave with a grim face, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Zheng Haishi sighed. "I never expected Young Master Li to be so formidable. This was quite a blow to the Tenth Junior Brother!"

Li Muchen stated, "If there is nothing else, Young Master Zheng, I shall take my leave now!"

Zheng Haishi countered, "Can Young Master Li not speak plainly?... Just who are you?"

Li Muchen frowned impatiently, shook his head, and turned to walk away. Zheng Haishi flashed forward, blocking the doorway. Li Muchen sneered, "Young Master Zheng intends to strike personally?"

"I deeply regret this," Zheng Haishi said gravely. A cold gleam flashed at his waist, and the next instant, the tip of his sword was pressed against Li Muchen’s chest.

Li Muchen flicked a finger. With a crisp ding, the sword tip was deflected. Zheng Haishi frowned; a vast, potent force surged through the blade, threatening to wrench the longsword from his grip.

He channeled his inner energy to resist this formidable power, feeling a jolt of alarm in his heart. This Li Canghai possessed superior cultivation, even better than his own.

However, he did not stop. Instead, his sword light flickered, executing moves of exquisite intricacy.

Li Muchen shifted his body lightly, floating two zhang away. His left index finger tapped out lightly. The pursuing Zheng Haishi hurriedly brought his sword up to parry.

Bang—it sounded like a dull thud, like wood striking a wall, completely lacking the crisp sound of metal on metal. Zheng Haishi was forced back two steps.

Li Muchen struck out with another finger attack. Zheng Haishi lacked the confidence to evade, nor the certainty to block, so he could only use his sword to protect himself; his previous exquisite maneuvers were now useless.

Li Muchen pressed his advantage with one finger strike after another, forcing Zheng Haishi back.

In the span of a few breaths, Li Muchen unleashed over twenty strikes, his power growing stronger with each one, gradually increasing the distance between them. Seeing this, Zheng Haishi let out a helpless sigh, retreated two steps, and signaled that the bout was over.

Li Muchen stopped his attack and said faintly, "Farewell!"

Saying this, he floated out of the hall. Zheng Haishi watched him leave silently, offering no words or hindrance.

Yet Li Muchen knew that the Qinghe Sword Sect would never let the matter rest; they were determined to uncover his true identity. Unfortunately, they were destined to be disappointed. He had already confirmed that among the great martial arts schools, none seemed to rely on finger strength for supremacy. His own finger techniques were numerous and subtle; he had no need to worry about revealing his origins.

After returning to the inn, late at night when the world was quiet, a dozen figures clad in black suddenly burst through the window and swarmed toward Li Muchen, who was resting on the couch, attacking him with drawn swords.