7 Opponents

The following day.

The competition remained a draw-by-lots system, with one person receiving a bye and automatically advancing to the next round.

In the morning match, Yan Yuge faced Wei Qingxia.

Lu Wenshu advanced to the next round by default.

Wei Qingxia’s “Extinction” technique, inherited from Wei Shengming, was tremendously powerful. She had practiced it countless times in secret. When she unleashed “Extinction,” Yan Yuge barely managed to resist but ultimately lost.

Ye Pingzhou, standing at the referee’s platform, shook his head with a look of helplessness in his eyes.

Although Wei Qingxia had won, she had exploited a loophole in the rules and used someone else’s signature move. Her victory felt dishonorable. The Sword Forum was about debating the Way through swordsmanship—winning through skill and mastery—but even in victory, there were ideals and standards.

An obsession with winning had caused her to lose sight of the true spirit of swordplay and mutual refinement.

Some of the sword cultivators eliminated early had not left but remained at Penglai to watch. Many had suffered defeats at Wei Qingxia’s hands and, seeing her advance relentlessly toward the championship, felt deep resentment.

After Yan Yuge’s defeat, whispers rippled through the observing cultivators, some emitting ambiguous cold snorts.

“I really want Lu Wenshu to teach her a lesson.”

“Come on, expecting a young cultivator like him to break Wei Shengming’s ‘Extinction’ technique? He may be talented, but he still falls short of Wei Shengming’s level. In a thousand years, to have even one genius like Wei Shengming is rare—how could there be a second so easily?”

“Better wish for Wei Shengming himself to appear and give Wei Qingxia a proper lesson.”

Amid the murmurs on the stands, Lu Wenshu stood on the competition platform, seemingly unaffected by the noise. His expression remained calm and unreadable—he never smiled. No one could discern his thoughts during the duel.

Opposite him, Wei Qingxia already wore the expression of a victor.

Impatient, Wei Qingxia directly unleashed Wei Shengming’s lethal move.

She had endured thirty days, even three thousand years for this moment! She no longer wished to negotiate or prolong the match; she wanted to end it decisively and claim her prize.

Yet unexpectedly, the sword strike she released did not break through like before. Instead, the young cultivator opposite her effortlessly deflected it, as if a feather landing on water—no progress was made.

Wei Qingxia was stunned.

She gritted her teeth and continued launching attacks, pouring all her spiritual energy into her longsword, but Lu Wenshu calmly repelled everything.

Step by step, Wei Qingxia faltered, growing increasingly anxious.

Lu Wenshu was methodical, composed throughout.

Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed Wei Qingxia’s arm. The three sword energies she had unleashed were perfectly thrown back at her by Lu Wenshu without the slightest deviation.

Wei Qingxia gave it her all, but Lu Wenshu was already prepared.

Though she had learned Wei Shengming’s lethal move, she was not Wei Shengming himself. The same technique wielded by different people yielded different results. Wei Qingxia’s use of the move barely reached half of Wei Shengming’s original power.

A dull ache radiated through her bones; her sword no longer obeyed her will.

With a metallic clang, Wei Qingxia’s sword slipped from her grasp.

Losing one’s weapon meant utter defeat with no room for redemption.

And this was the most humiliating way to lose.

For sword cultivators, the sword was more precious than life itself. To lose one’s sword before the match ended—what dignity remained?

Silence fell over the stands at first.

In the quiet, someone weakly asked, “Did he win?”

Another replied, “It seems… yes.”

The crowd found it hard to believe.

Then, suddenly, cheers erupted from the stands.

Lu Wenshu stepped down from the competition platform amid thunderous applause.

His face remained impassive, as though joy and sorrow were irrelevant, but the sudden quickening of his pace and change in direction betrayed the storm of emotions within him.

Ignoring the ovation, Lu Wenshu seemed to exist in a world of his own, with one thought dominating his mind: he had to send news to Qingfeng.

He had won and wanted to be the first to tell Achan.

Before Lu Wenshu could return to his room, Ye Pingzhou called out to him from behind.

“Young Master Lu, please wait.”

Lu Wenshu ignored him, but Ye Pingzhou called again.

“Young Master Lu, please stop!”

Only then did Lu Wenshu slow and turn. Ye Pingzhou’s face shone with excitement.

“Why did you leave so hastily?” Ye Pingzhou smiled. “You truly surprised everyone just now.”

Lu Wenshu anxiously said, “I need to hurry and deliver this news to—”

He paused.

“To whom?” Ye Pingzhou asked curiously.

Lu Wenshu suddenly calmed himself.

He was startled by how close he had come to revealing Lu Chanji’s name to Ye Pingzhou without caution. A cold sweat broke out. Lu Chanji’s identity was delicate; too many people could not know of her existence, especially outsiders to the Sword Sect. It could bring great danger to both him and the sect in the future. He had only just tasted victory, yet was already so careless.

He clenched his palm, his racing heart gradually steadying, the excitement in his blood cooling.

He spoke again: “To the sect leader of the Sword Sect.”

“Good news should be told quickly to those closest. Then I won’t keep you,” Ye Pingzhou said, understanding. “If you ever have the chance, come to our Taiwei Sect and spar with our sword cultivators.”

Lu Wenshu bowed humbly.

After Ye Pingzhou left, Lu Wenshu strode quickly, avoiding those who wished to speak with him. When he finally returned to his room, before using the communication stone to send a message to Lu Chanji, something compelled him to open his palm and reveal Lu Chanji’s Star Ruin Fate Map.

At the sight of it, Lu Wenshu’s eyes shook violently, his face drained of color.

These days, busy with one match after another, he had not checked Lu Chanji’s fate map for several days. In that short time, the star once dim beside his own brilliant star had lit up again.

It was Lu Qi’s star.

He remembered that position.

A nameless fiery pain burned in his heart, shattering all joy from winning the Sword Forum’s top prize. Clenching his hand, he almost crushed the Star Ruin Fate Map.

Pale-faced and without any hesitation, he summoned his destined sword and flew swiftly away from Penglai, leaving without a trace of longing.

The Sword Sect only learned of the young master’s departure two hours later.

Penglai was searched high and low, but Lu Wenshu was nowhere to be found. Through inquiries via communication stones, they discovered he had left alone, abandoning everyone.

Ye Pingzhou sighed into his communication stone to Wei Shengming, “Don’t bother coming—he’s already gone.”

He couldn’t help but lament, “This scene feels so familiar. Anyone else who won first place at the Sword Forum would stay to enjoy the cheers and admiration from other cultivators, maybe wander Penglai for five or ten days. But you two—gone faster than goblins.”

“Blame yourself for not joining the Sword Forum,” Ye Pingzhou added. “If you want to spar with him now, go to the Sword Sect yourself.”

—

At the Sword Sect,

On the third, fourth, and fifth days after Lu Qi’s return,

He came every day to spar with Lu Chanji.

Every day, he was defeated by Lu Chanji.

Lu Chanji noticed that Lu Qi harbored a strong frustration.

Being defeated by a mortal like her must be a great humiliation for an inner disciple of the Sword Sect. His repeated visits likely stemmed from a desperate desire to win just once.

After all, victory over her should be his due.

Lu Chanji once considered whether to yield, pretending to be weaker to let Lu Qi win once, thinking he might stop coming then.

But aside from Lu Wenshu, Lu Qi was the second person willing to spar without using spiritual energy, testing sword techniques with her purely.

Since Lu Wenshu began preparing for the Sword Forum and then actually set out, he had been busy training. Coupled with a month away attending the forum, Lu Chanji had gone half a year without much conversation with anyone alive.

Perhaps Lu Qi’s presence brought a little liveliness to the Lingchun Pavilion, and Lu Chanji silently allowed him to spar.

But on the eighth day, facing a communication stone that had been silent for three days, Lu Chanji utterly lost the heart to entertain Lu Qi’s challenges.

The Sword Forum had ended three days prior. Lu Wenshu’s news should have reached Qingfeng and then her on the same day.

Yet, three full days after the competition’s end, the communication stone remained dark.

Had something happened?

Lu Chanji asked Lu Qi, who was standing in the courtyard, “How many days did you stay in Penglai?”

“Eighteen days,” he answered.

Lu Chanji then asked, “How was the young master’s condition at that time?”

Lu Qi didn’t answer but asked instead, “If I tell you the answer, will you spar with me today?”

Only knowing sparring, Lu Chanji choked but replied, “Of course.”

They said sword cultivators were easily obsessed; Lu Qi was annoying in character but truly passionate about the Way of the Sword—something that earned him some respect.

But now was not the time to praise him. Lu Chanji urged, “Spit it out!”

Lu Qi glanced at her. “For the first eighteen days, the young master won easily without effort.”

Mentioning Lu Wenshu, he looked proud, as if some of the frustration from his own defeats under Lu Chanji’s hand had dissipated.

Lu Chanji pressed, “And after the eighteenth day?”

“After that…” Lu Qi shook his head. “I left the Sword Forum and know nothing more.”

“Though I didn’t pay attention, the young master must have placed well,” Lu Qi said confidently.

Who cared if he said “must”? Asking him was pointless.

Lu Chanji stamped her foot in frustration. “Why couldn’t you win a few more days?”

The more she thought, the more upset she became. “You’re not untalented, but this is your level? Do you not practice enough?”

“I do practice hard!” That hit a sore spot with Lu Qi. She could say he lacked talent, but not that he wasn’t diligent. If he only wanted to understand his own level, why rush back from Penglai so soon?

Lu Qi was about to argue when the clear chime of a bell hanging from the eaves suddenly rang, interrupting his unfinished words.