Chapter 15
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Wang Ting was stunned. He still hadn’t understood why his master suddenly stirred up trouble. Instinctively, he reached out to grab the sleeve of the Daoist Wen Qin, but was half a step too late and missed.
Shen Yun Zhenren’s previously smiling expression had vanished.
“Daoist Wen Qin, are you speaking on behalf of Mount Fuguang?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the other. Though his expression remained gentle, a chill slowly seeped from the depths of his eyes.
Looking around, although there were some who had gathered out of curiosity without knowing the truth, most of the faces of the Mount Chishuang disciples had grown cold; some of the younger disciples openly displayed blatant hostility.
This hostility was not directed at Xie Chang’an, who was being targeted, but at Daoist Wen Qin, who was stirring trouble.
Anyone could see that the other party was slapping Mount Chishuang in the face.
Even Wang Ting, who was not the focus, could feel the almost tangible hostility surging toward him, causing him to involuntarily take a step back.
But Daoist Wen Qin did not retreat a single step.
He shook his head, sincerity evident on his face. “Mount Fuguang and Mount Chishuang have a history. Our sect leader and the disciples of Mount Chishuang are friends. Naturally, I bear friendship, not enmity, toward your sect. At first sight of this girl, I thought I had been mistaken, but after careful scrutiny, I confirmed my suspicion. If the Zhenren has doubts, you may ask her whether, at the Chenxiang Pavilion in Xingqing Palace, she ever spoke to my disciple Wang Ting about desiring to learn his immortal techniques. I fear she failed to deceive Wang Ting and instead resorted to tricking Zhenren Zhu. I merely wished to remind you all.”
After speaking, he briefly recounted how Wang Ting had once cared for Xie Chang’an, even attempting to bring her out of the palace to settle her, only for her to be ungrateful and covet Wang Ting’s immortal arts.
To Shen Yun Zhenren, there were many common mortals fanatic about cultivation. Xie Chang’an was hardly sinister—at most, a slight schemer. However, Daoist Wen Qin’s actions seemed odd. Standing up for his disciple was understandable, but choosing this exact moment to do so, rather than privately afterward, was sure to cause misunderstanding.
His gaze shifted to Wang Ting behind Wen Qin, and a thought struck him—he understood.
Daoist Wen Qin was deliberate.
The other had noticed Xie Chang’an’s inexperienced cultivation upon entering the immortal path and sought to use her as a stepping stone to temper his disciple’s spirit, to break Wang Ting’s inner demons—even if it meant openly offending Mount Chishuang.
If Xie Chang’an were thrown into confusion, forced to duel Wang Ting, and lost, she would inevitably develop inner demons, ruining her future. Wang Ting’s obstacle would naturally be removed.
This was no rash act—it was a calculated, painstaking scheme.
Shen Yun Zhenren sneered coldly inwardly, his face darkening.
“Daoist Wen Qin’s earnestness for his disciple is truly moving, but do you think the disciples of Mount Chishuang are easy to bully?”
Having said that, he turned to Zhu Xuanguang, silently inquiring his stance.
Although the heads of Mount Chishuang’s three peaks wield influence outside the sect, inside they are equals. Since this matter concerned Zhu Xuanguang’s new disciple, Shen Yun Zhenren naturally needed to confirm his attitude first.
Zhu Xuanguang did not sneer. He glanced at Daoist Wen Qin, then at Wang Ting behind him, his expression unchanged, but his words were enough to enrage Wen Qin.
“Does the elder of Mount Fuguang truly trouble himself so much over an insignificant disciple? Has Mount Fuguang’s talent all perished?”
Before Wen Qin could respond, he asked Xie Chang’an, “What is your view?”
Xie Chang’an had remained silent all this while.
It was not that she did not wish to explain, but she awaited an opportunity to speak. Hearing this, she cupped her hands and said, “Master, elders, please allow me to explain. I indeed have unfinished grievances in the mortal world, but at that time, I had not yet met my master and was powerless alone to seek revenge. Upon hearing of Wang Ting’s immortal destiny, I envied it in my heart and sought to learn some immortal techniques. In hindsight, my thoughts were shallow and unworthy of your esteem. Please forgive my folly.”
“On that day, Daoist Wen Qin said my past with Wang Ting was settled and that we would never meet again. Yet now, the old matter is brought up again and I am accused openly. Though it is true and harmless to me personally, now that I am a disciple of Mount Chishuang, I cannot allow my sect’s reputation to be tarnished. I therefore ask the elders to grant me a chance to learn from Wang Daoist.”
Her words were clear and orderly, laying out the cause and effect.
Shen Yun Zhenren was naturally satisfied, and Daoist Wen Qin’s plan had hit its mark. His provocation was to force Xie Chang’an to publicly duel Wang Ting, so Wang Ting could sever his inner demons.
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More so, he intended to use Xie Chang’an’s disciple ceremony to bolster Wang Ting’s reputation.
Wang Ting stared at Xie Chang’an in a daze.
They had met only a few times over the years. He knew the young girl was eloquent, though usually reserved and low-profile in the palace. He had not expected her to speak so confidently before such powerful masters, showing no sign of timidity.
Before he could sort out his thoughts, his master Daoist Wen Qin pushed him forward.
“Go!”
Those two words exploded like thunder in his ears, snapping Wang Ting back to full awareness.
He was not foolish and quickly understood his master’s intent.
In a matter of moments, with so many eyes watching, Wang Ting made his decision.
Forming a finger formation, he summoned a long sword shimmering with silver light.
The sword was slender, and the moment it appeared, it resonated with Wang Ting’s aura, a fierce sword energy circling him, eager to devour.
Xu Weique raised an eyebrow, interest piqued.
“This kid’s talent is not bad—he’s already mastered the Sword Qi realm. Zhu Zhenren’s top disciple probably can’t match him.”
Fang Qinglan thought the same but kept silent, frowning and glancing at Zhu Xuanguang, hoping he would stop the fight.
But Zhu Xuanguang did not intervene; instead, he said, “This isn’t your first battle.”
Others were confused by this remark, but Xie Chang’an understood it was meant for her.
Her true first battle had been in Chang’an city, facing Yuwen Chi and He Bisheng, a fight where she survived against all odds.
“Yes.”
Xie Chang’an immediately grasped Zhu Xuanguang’s implication. She smiled and cupped her hands toward Wang Ting.
“Wang Daoist, please.”
At the moment Wang Ting summoned his sword, any frivolous thoughts about personal feelings disappeared.
Under so many eyes, if he failed to assert himself, he would become a laughingstock and deepen his inner demons.
The moment Xie Chang’an said “please,” his Milky Way Sword shot forward.
The man hadn’t arrived, but the sword energy had!
The Milky Way Sword lived up to its name, silver light like a starry river flooding the sky, arriving in an instant—just this move alone was enough to leave one helpless and with no place to evade!
Zhang Fanruo had originally looked down on Wang Ting for hiding behind his master in hesitation, but seeing him strike now, he uttered a surprised “huh.”
He thought, if he were in Xie Chang’an’s position, this sword energy would be hard to dodge, forcing him to face it head-on. But a direct clash was no sure win for Zhang himself. Wang Ting’s ability to inspire such devoted scheming from his master showed he was truly skilled.
Alas, Sister Xie might lose this time!
Losing a match was common in sparring, but this was Xie Chang’an’s very first public appearance within the sect during her disciple ceremony, a moment of triumph. Yet now Wang Ting appeared, seemingly trying to overshadow her—how frustrating and infuriating!
Zhang Fanruo twitched his fingers, but Senior Brother Shen Xi seemed to have eyes on his back and stopped him.
“You cannot interfere.”
Today’s situation was clearly meant for Xie Chang’an to overcome on her own. Win or lose, she had to bear it herself, or she would never take the first step forward.
Zhang Fanruo knew this but had long counted Xie Chang’an among his own, and seeing Wang Ting’s overwhelming momentum, he was inwardly distressed.
Suddenly, his motion halted, his eyes locking sharply on the two.
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Xie Chang’an did not dodge.
She chose to meet Wang Ting head-on, even enduring the sword light.
No, she even counterattacked!
The Celestial Sword had appeared in her hands at some unknown moment. Holding it with both hands, she cleaved toward the incoming sword energy!
Zhang Fanruo caught a glimpse of golden light.
Like dawn breaking through a crack, the morning glow hiding the clouds, where the light passes, all beings give way.
The silver-white sword energy was split forcibly apart, diverted to both sides. The wild tide roared, the jade vessel shattered like ice, then shattered to dust under the golden light’s awe-inspiring force, dissipating without trace.
Wang Ting felt all this happen in an instant.
His sword energy had just been unleashed and not yet withdrawn when he watched helplessly as it was bisected, the golden light arriving instantly. His Milky Way Sword trembled slightly, as if sensing something.
Wang Ting was shocked, about to counterattack, but suddenly his body froze!
The dark green, nearly black, sword tip hovered half an inch from his forehead, and Xie Chang’an, holding the sword, stood before him.
“Wang Daoist, I yield.”
This stunning sword strike dazzled the eyes and hearts of all present.
Even Shen Yun Zhenren showed surprise.
Zhang Fanruo nearly shouted.
Sword Qi Realm?
Xie Chang’an had achieved the Sword Qi Realm?!
Her sword energy was even purer than Wang Ting’s!
Granted, the Sword Qi Realm was only the first realm for sword cultivators. Most Mount Chishuang disciples could reach it after several years of proper training. But Xie Chang’an had just become a disciple!
Could she have comprehended this in a moment of dire need?
No—it was too skillful, the strike too resolute.
She must have been hiding her cleverness from the very start.
Zhang Fanruo’s gaze shifted, seeing her with new respect.
Wang Ting gasped, incredulous.
“How could you...”
Daoist Wen Qin’s expression also grew dark.
He hadn’t expected that his carefully laid plan to help his disciple sever his inner demons would instead serve as Xie Chang’an’s debut.
“Martial arts end war, weapons are instruments of destruction. True insight only comes at the brink of life and death. This humble one experienced such fate on the day Chang’an city fell.”
Xie Chang’an’s tone was calm, though the sword pointed steadily at Wang Ting’s forehead.
“My master foresaw this and took Wang Daoist away early to avoid the chaos of war, thus missing this opportunity.”
Her calm words seemed laced with veiled mockery, beneath which lay an immeasurable sea of blood and grief, freezing all splendor and glory, never to be seen again.