Chapter 78 (Part Two): Seven Colors, Seven Fates, Seven Heavens Shattered

There were often contests that, though originally meant to conclude in a single day, would be dragged out indefinitely to emphasize their significance. Su Fan sat lazily on the steps outside the pavilion, leaning deeply against its railing, eyes half-closed, savoring the violet sunlight from the horizon and the refreshing breeze that swept through.

Suddenly, a streak of red light floated over. Su Fan shook his head helplessly, slowly opened his eyes, and rose to walk toward where the red light landed. It was a disciple from the Red Division. Su Fan approached him with a smile, while the Red Division disciple wore an awkward expression.

Su Fan understood well enough; his feud with Hong Yuan was no secret—likely all of Tianyuan Sect knew about it. This disciple, being from the Red Division, had surely felt some influence. Yet Su Fan’s recent conduct had earned him respect, so the disciple’s demeanor was the only way he could express his inner conflict.

Su Fan spoke gently, “May I ask what brings you here, senior brother? My master is still resting. If you have business, I can report it for you.”

The Red Division disciple showed a hint of impatience, forcing a smile. “No need. I’m here to inform you about tomorrow’s contest.”

Su Fan hurriedly said, “Please give me the details, senior brother.”

The Red Division disciple replied coldly, “Tomorrow, you will face Ye Xue from the Orange Division on the Green Platform in the second round.” With that, he turned and swiftly departed.

Su Fan gazed at the fading red glow in the sky, lost in thought, murmuring, “Ye Xue, Ye Xue… How did I end up against her?”

“Ye Xue is a child of bitter fate,” came a sigh.

Su Fan returned to himself and looked at the elderly man in violet robes who had come near. The elder continued, “But at least she has the care of Tianyuan Sect and a father who is the Chief. You have nothing.”

Su Fan was momentarily stunned, then nodded. “I understand.”

The violet-robed elder suddenly raised his hand, a stream of violet energy swirling at his fingertip. As his fingers twitched, the energy danced, and with a point toward the void, it shot out, causing the air to tremble violently as the violet mist began to dissipate.

The elder smiled. “Did you grasp it?”

Su Fan nodded, then shook his head, turning to sit again on the pavilion steps.

The elder chuckled softly and went inside.

The Seven Division Grand Tournament was indeed a spectacle, especially the second round, where every disciple who advanced became the focus of attention—most notably Su Fan’s group. Not because of Su Fan himself, but due to Ye Xue's rare appearance and her stunning beauty and mysterious skills, which made her a sensation.

Su Fan stood helplessly on the contest stage, feeling the fierce gazes below as if they wished to kill him. He sighed inwardly at Ye Xue’s allure, uncertain how to proceed when the duel began.

Ye Xue, however, remained aloof, her icy gaze fixed somewhere unknown. Su Fan suddenly sensed she was concealing something; he felt she hadn’t always been this way.

He glanced at the violet-robed elder below, still silent with closed eyes, uncertain what to do. If he truly defeated Ye Xue, how would he explain to the elders in blue and green, and to Qin Yu?

But then, remembering the elder’s words, he steeled his heart. He had a mission, a vengeance to fulfill—a handful of enemies he had quietly counted, the deadly force from the imperial city. All of it required power to resolve.

The sound of the gong echoed. Su Fan glanced at the woman like a snow mountain; she still gazed into the distance, her blue, misty eyes veiled as if by water.

Su Fan sighed, tapped his storage pouch, and the Violet Moon Blade appeared in his hand. A streak of violet light flashed. Ye Xue slowly shifted her gaze to Su Fan, lightly flicking her fingers; a chilling aura surged into Su Fan’s heart.

The violet light seemed to solidify, frozen in the air. Su Fan uttered a low cry, swung the Violet Moon Blade, and swiftly darted to Ye Xue. She deftly blocked his attack with a silver dagger and floated away.

Su Fan called out, forming a spell with his hands. Instantly, a hundred sand arrows materialized, and as his finger fell, they shot toward Ye Xue like a storm of arrows.

Shouts erupted from the audience, mostly chastising Su Fan for lacking compassion. He could only feel helpless, for Ye Xue refused direct confrontation, focusing solely on defense.

Thus, Su Fan fell into disadvantage. With no other choice, he stood motionless. Ye Xue danced gracefully, a myriad of white lights enveloping the descending sand arrows.

In an instant, the sand arrows faded like illusions, vanishing in midair. Ye Xue continued, forming another spell, sending white light stabbing toward Su Fan.

Within that white light, Su Fan sensed intense danger—as if a mere touch would shatter him entirely.

The violet-robed elder finally opened his eyes, gazing coldly at the white light. He spoke in a deep voice to the orange-robed elder beside him, “This is…”

“This is Tianyuan’s Seven Colors.” The orange-robed elder sighed. “Our sect’s supreme divine art—only she has been fortunate enough to comprehend it.”

The violet-robed elder fell silent, murmuring, “Seven colors, seven arts, seven ways to break the heavens.”

The orange-robed elder gently stroked his beard, smiling lightly. “Your disciple won’t last much longer.”

The violet-robed elder sighed deeply. “Is this truly the condition under which the green-robed senior departed? It seems a meager price to pay.”

The orange-robed elder chuckled. “You’ll know after this tournament whether it was worth it. With Ye Xue’s mastery of the Seven Colors and her late-stage Golden Core cultivation, even Hong Yuan cannot match her.”

The violet-robed elder’s smile was tinged with mischief. “Su Fan is not so easily defined as you think.”

The orange-robed elder frowned slightly, speaking in a low voice, “I know he is strange and has surprised us many times, but Ye Xue can do the same.”

The violet-robed elder’s smile faded. “Su Fan is not simple, and neither is Hong Yuan.” With that, he turned his gaze to the duel, murmuring, “Seven colors, seven arts, seven ways to break the heavens.”

The white light nearly engulfed the entire stage. Su Fan dodged desperately, nearing the platform’s edge with nowhere to retreat, yet the white light remained relentless.

With a determined heart, Su Fan tapped his pouch, and a golden crossbow appeared. He quickly infused it with spiritual energy, a wild force surging in, too swift for him to examine its peculiar change.

As he released the trigger, a violet phoenix soared forth—violet feathers, violet eyes, as real as life. The white light trembled, and silence fell across the arena; all eyes watched, waiting to see if Su Fan’s phoenix could turn the tide.

The orange-robed elder suddenly exclaimed, “This is… this is the Phoenix Feather Crossbow! Nameless… what is his connection with Nameless?”

The violet-robed elder remained unperturbed, observing the unfolding events. “Nameless values him highly, but he did not follow Nameless—he chose to become my disciple instead.”

The elder’s tone brimmed with pride, as if Su Fan’s choice was a mark of honor.

With the emergence of the violet phoenix, Ye Xue’s perennial icy expression shifted dramatically. She retreated in haste, yet her spell persisted.

The phoenix silently touched the white light, which instantly transformed—white to red, red to orange, orange to yellow, yellow to green, green to cyan, cyan to blue, finally receding as purple. The phoenix closed its wings, dispersing the purple light entirely.

Su Fan gently tapped the air, and the phoenix vanished. With a swift motion, the Violet Moon Blade sent several violet streaks toward Ye Xue.

Ye Xue’s face turned pale; clearly, the previous attack had pushed her to her limit. Even as Su Fan’s blade neared her heart, she lacked the strength to avoid it.

The blade shone with a red glow reflected from the sky, making the violet hue appear even more uncanny. Yet Su Fan did not strike her heart; instead, the blade landed on Ye Xue's shoulder.

Her beautiful, deathly pale lips trembled, and she spoke softly, “I concede.”

Her voice carried a chill of utter despair, resignation, and above all, boundless disappointment.

The orange-robed elder smiled gently at Ye Xue on the platform. “Come, child. These years have made you weep enough.”

It was a smile of release, perhaps genuine joy—joy that Ye Xue would no longer bear a heavy burden. Ten years passes like a blink for cultivators, but for a woman laden with responsibility, it is long indeed.

Su Fan watched the snow-like woman’s departing figure, suddenly calling out, “Wait.”

Ye Xue turned back, puzzled. Su Fan whispered, “I know you.”

Ye Xue’s gaze remained cold. “We are in the same sect; naturally you know me.”

Su Fan paused, then said, “We’ve known each other for a long time. You, me, and Xiao Lin—you know him as well.”

Ye Xue’s eyes widened, then she hurriedly lowered her head. “I heard of Xiao Lin in the sect—he was a genius.”

Su Fan shook his head. “Must I say it outright? We met in Huailiu Town.”

Ye Xue’s body trembled. After a moment, she said, “You still remember me.”

Su Fan forced a smile. “Not only do I remember you—Xiao Lin remembers you too.”

Ye Xue suddenly looked up at Su Fan. “Xiao Lin… Xiao Lin. What’s past is past.”

Su Fan’s face darkened in anger. “Past? Do you know how many times Xiao Lin has looked for you? How much he’s sacrificed for you?”

Ye Xue nodded gently and turned to leave, leaving only these words: “Please don’t tell him you know my identity.”

Su Fan silently left the stage, walking toward the violet-robed elder, his mind filled with a hundred thoughts.