She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 92

◎In Wu Manshuang’s eyes, Yan Luoyue saw her own reflection.◎

When the topic of settling the bill came up, Chu Tiankuo and Jiang Tingbai—two of the most formidable sword cultivators of their time—wore identical expressions of cautious restraint.

Exchanging a subtle glance, Chu Tiankuo then thumped his chest with bold bravado—

"I have extensive experience in washing dishes efficiently and economically..."

This wasn’t because Chu Tiankuo had ever dined and dashed, but rather because his master had once punished him with kitchen duty.

Jiang Tingbai: "..."

His own expertise in dishwashing was limited to household chores.

Mainly because, over the years, Jiang Tingbai had always adhered to punctuality and never indulged in unpaid meals.

Clearing his throat, Jiang Tingbai suggested, "Let’s step out and ask first."

The result of their inquiry was... unsurprising. Their junior siblings had indeed left without settling the bill.

Jiang Tingbai: "..."

Chu Tiankuo: "..."

The tavern owner, clearly no stranger to such situations, stroked his beard leisurely and said,

"The two young ladies both wanted to pay—they fought over it so fiercely that neither could win."

Indeed, the scene of cultivators vying to foot the bill was no different from mortals wrestling over the check.

The struggle was just as intense, if not more creatively chaotic—if one was an array cultivator, they’d summon a glowing ring to trip the other; if another was a healer, they’d jab a needle to numb half their opponent’s body.

Thus, Yan Luoyue and Tao Tao ended up in a stalemate, with neither securing the right to pay.

Chu Tiankuo shamelessly asked, "Did they say what to do in the end?"

The tavern owner glanced at them and chuckled. "The ladies suggested that since the two of you would surely duel after drinking, the winner could settle the bill."

Jiang Tingbai: "..."

Chu Tiankuo: "..."

Truth be told, upon hearing this arrangement, they both felt a fleeting urge to lose...

"Haha, I jest," the owner waved his hand.

"The two agreed to return tomorrow morning to pay. If you wish to duel, kindly do so outside my humble establishment. Otherwise, you’re free to come and go as you please."

Out of courtesy, Jiang Tingbai removed his sword sheath and placed it on the counter. "Landlord, someone will surely return to settle the bill tomorrow. For now, let this sheath serve as collateral."

Chu Tiankuo did the same.

As the two swordsmen strode away, a waiter timidly asked,

"Boss, they ordered so many expensive dishes... and you just let them go with two sheaths?"

The owner narrowed his eyes knowingly. "What do you know? They’re sword cultivators!"

To a sword cultivator, their blade is like their wife, and the sheath is her clothing.

No self-respecting swordsman would let his wife parade around naked for long!

...

Late at night, in a desolate wilderness, a flash of sword light brighter than lightning suddenly illuminated an empty hillside.

Long before the glare erupted, the surging sword aura had already driven away all birds and beasts within miles.

Even hibernating insects jolted awake, crawling out of the earth in swarms as if fleeing an impending earthquake.

Jiang Tingbai and Chu Tiankuo stood facing each other, left and right.

Beneath their feet, the grass had been trampled into a perfect circle during their exchange.

On Jiang Tingbai’s side, the half-circle thrived under the influence of his "Ten Thousand Springs" sword intent—plants grew taller by inches, pulsing with vitality.

On Chu Tiankuo’s side, his "Dominion Over Rivers and Mountains" sword intent left the earth barren and sunken a full foot deeper.

The two swordsmen locked eyes, then smiled simultaneously.

Jiang Tingbai twirled his sword and sheathed it, offering a swordsman’s salute first. "This duel reminds me of eighty years ago... Back then, I narrowly lost to you. Tonight’s bout, however, seems a draw."

Chu Tiankuo laughed heartily, leaping out of the crater he’d created.

"I’ve always said that eighty years ago, I only won by a hair!"

The night breeze carried a tipsy languor as Chu Tiankuo swayed to a nearby tree, sitting against its roots. From his storage pouch, he produced several jars of fine wine and a white jade cup.

Had Yan Luoyue or Wu Manshuang been present, they’d have recognized it as the same shallow jade cup Chu Tiankuo had drunk from in front of them.

After a pause, Jiang Tingbai sat as well, retrieving... a bamboo cup from his storage pouch.

Compared to the jade cup, this humble bamboo vessel wasn’t too shabby—especially since Jiang Tingbai had thoughtfully knitted a cozy for it.

Chu Tiankuo poured wine for both, filling each cup to seventy percent.

He took a slow sip, savoring the liquor’s fiery sweetness, then said,

"Brother Jiang, how long has your junior brother been under your sect’s tutelage?"

Jiang Tingbai initially braced for another round of "Your junior’s decent, but mine’s better" provocation.

Taken aback by the question, he answered truthfully, "Two years."

The first year was during the Thousand Refinements Assembly, where Wu Manshuang had stayed close to their master. Jiang Tingbai only met him a year ago.

In the subsequent year at the Guiyuan Sect, Wu Manshuang spent nine months in doctrinal exchanges.

Though Jiang Tingbai treated him and Yan Luoyue equally, their bond wasn’t as familiar as his with the latter.

Chu Tiankuo narrowed his eyes. "I see. Have you observed your junior brother’s temperament closely?"

Jiang Tingbai set down his cup, straightening. "Speak plainly, Brother Chu."

Instead of answering directly, Chu Tiankuo pivoted to discussing swords.

"In my youth, I trained with over a hundred blades—broadswords, wrist-slicers, willow-leaf sabers, mountain-splitters, dragon-spring swords, folded-steel treasures..."

"Broadswords excel in melee, wrist-slicers demand close quarters, willow-leaf sabers are light and nimble—favored by women, mountain-splitters weigh like boulders, requiring Herculean strength..."

Draining his jade cup, Chu Tiankuo set it down solemnly.

"But there’s one type I never wielded. To lift it is to use it once in a lifetime. Do you know what it is, Brother Jiang?"

"—I speak of the blade thin as cicada wings, its edge fine as hair, lighter than snowflakes, swifter than the wind—the assassin’s sword."

Jiang Tingbai understood. Slowly, he replied, "Because it’s a sword of one strike, no return."

Its thinness grants lightness; its sharpness grants speed.

Yet what is too delicate cannot endure.

Such a sword might only be swung once in a lifetime, might only strike a single blow. And the moment it succeeds, it would shatter into fragments, bursting into cold shards of metal embedded deep in the target's chest.

Chu Tiankuo shook his head. "Your junior brother... he shares a similar temperament."

After learning of Wu Manshuang's peculiarities from Yan Luoyue, Chu Tiankuo finally understood why Wu Manshuang's first instinct upon being captured was to stab his own arm clean through with a candlestick.

Even now, recalling the swift, decisive motion of that self-inflicted strike made Chu Tiankuo frown involuntarily.

The action had been too practiced, too natural, too instinctive.

Most people would instinctively hold back when harming themselves, yet Wu Manshuang's stab had been executed with ruthless efficiency, without the slightest hesitation.

Had he been like Chu Tiankuo in the past—a wanderer burdened with vengeance and cloaked in sorrow—it might have made sense.

But how could someone so young show such disregard for his own well-being?

Jiang Tingbai listened to this description and nodded thoughtfully. "I understand."

Chu Tiankuo poured himself another full cup and spoke leisurely:

"All things in this world, so long as they live and exist, move inexorably toward death."

"Only the Frostheart Stone and the Crow's Cry Flame stand in opposition. The latter embodies the purest essence of yang and life, while the former embodies the purest essence of yin and death—thus, it moves toward life through death."

"But humans are not blades, not swords, nor Frostheart Stones. We cannot grow thinner with time. Since Wu Manshuang is your junior brother, Brother Jiang, you ought to keep a closer eye on him."

Jiang Tingbai tightened his grip slightly on the bamboo cup, the woven grass sleeve forming an oval shape under the pressure.

He had never witnessed Wu Manshuang's behavior in dire straits and thus hadn't realized that his usually diligent and studious junior brother would react this way in danger.

"I understand. I’ll discuss this with... my junior sister."

Jiang Tingbai had originally intended to say "discuss it with Master."

But upon reflection, their master always advocated for free personality development—this matter likely wouldn’t yield any solutions from him.

So it was better to consult his junior sister instead.

Since she had joined the No-Home Turtle Peak, though mischievous and playful, she had always been sharp-eyed and reliable when it came to serious matters.

Nodding, Jiang Tingbai repeated solemnly, "Thank you, Brother Chu. I understand now."

...

The Sword Dao Grand Assembly had yet to conclude.

And such a gathering of factions presented the perfect opportunity to unveil the truth of past events.

Thus, Yan Luoyue and her companions regrouped and set off hastily the next day.

They piloted the grand flying vessel Yan Luoyue had once swindled from the Hongtong Palace, soaring toward the Guiyuan Sect.

Along the way, the prow of the vessel cut through the sea of clouds like an icebreaker’s horn splitting icebergs. Coupled with the new paint job Yan Luoyue had given the ship, it drew countless envious gazes.

Chu Tiankuo alternated between sword-riding outside the vessel and flipping back inside to enjoy the sensation of standing on the deck, bathed in the cold wind.

The moment he spotted Yan Luoyue, he couldn’t hold back, shoulders shaking with laughter.

He asked, "Junior Sister Yan, did you... design this vessel’s paint job?"

Yan Luoyue nodded matter-of-factly.

Chu Tiankuo burst into laughter. "Why did you... turn the flying vessel into a crispy, soaring drumstick?"

Truth be told, this revamped design suited his tastes perfectly!

Yan Luoyue grinned slyly.

She admitted, "I have a rather sincere habit of sharing joy with the world. On the day I repainted it, I happened to crave the golden, crispy drumsticks from the canteen, so..."

Chu Tiankuo tilted his head. "Junior Sister Yan, do you really expect me to believe that? Out with the truth."

Yan Luoyue spread her hands. "Fine, I admit—it’s because I gave this vessel an incredibly cool name and wanted a paint job worthy of it..."

Chu Tiankuo raised an eyebrow. "What name?"

Yan Luoyue declared solemnly, "'The Neighbor’s Kid Is Crying from Envy'!"

Chu Tiankuo clapped in admiration. "...Now that’s a name!"

At that moment, Jiang Tingbai, who was releasing a paper crane from the bow, overheard their conversation and shot Yan Luoyue an exasperated look.

Yan Luoyue giggled and sidled up to her senior brother. "Senior Brother, you’re sending a message to Master?"

"Mn." Jiang Tingbai replied tactfully, "Given what happened earlier, it’s only right to explain the full sequence of events to Master."

—Of course, once Ji Qinghong learned the full story, what kind of "surprise" he would prepare for the Hongtong Palace...

Well, that was beyond Jiang Tingbai’s expectations, wasn’t it?

Yan Luoyue clearly grasped his implication and immediately stifled a laugh.

"Oh, Senior Brother," she suddenly remembered, "those demons captured by Brother Chu—are they called 'Emotion-Devouring Demons'?"

Until now, neither Yan Luoyue, Wu Manshuang, nor Chu Tiankuo had known the name of these creatures, referring to them only as "gray mist" or "demon beasts."

But the moment Jiang Tingbai arrived yesterday, he seemed familiar with them and accurately identified them as "Emotion-Devouring Demons."

The name certainly fit their nature.

Jiang Tingbai gave a slight nod but seemed disinclined to elaborate, his mood subdued.

Yan Luoyue recalled that Feng Xiaoyuan had once mentioned these demons during a lecture but hadn’t named them.

Faintly, she felt she might have overlooked something—though nothing critical enough to unsettle her.

It was like remembering just before bed that the last can of soda was missing, then deciding to buy another tomorrow if she craved it.

Ah well. Yan Luoyue shifted her gaze to the vast sea of clouds outside.

...

Meanwhile, Wu Manshuang had been pulled aside by Chu Tiankuo for tea.

Chu Tiankuo personally poured a cup for each of them, his smile casual as he asked in a conversational tone:

"Junior Brother Wu, do you perhaps... hold some grievance against me?"

Wu Manshuang remained expressionless, his eyes lowered to the undisturbed surface of the tea in the blue-and-white porcelain cup, his tone even calmer than the drink itself.

"Oh? How did Sword Venerable Chu come to that conclusion?"

Chu Tiankuo laughed heartily, finding the response rather amusing.

—Here he was, being addressed as "Sword Venerable Chu" instead of the more familiar "Brother Chu" (as Yan Luoyue did), and Wu Manshuang still had the nerve to ask how he noticed?

Even Ling Shuanghun, the historian of the demon race, called him "Brother Chu."

Chu Tiankuo handed the cup to Wu Manshuang and inclined his head slightly.

"Junior Brother Wu, I’ve yet to apologize for what happened in Hill Tea Town."

"Though the circumstances were exceptional, and this concealment was unavoidable, the grand spectacle I orchestrated at the time must have startled you."

Hearing Chu Tiankuo say this, Wu Manshuang couldn't help but press his lips together tightly.

Finally, he tore his gaze away from the porcelain cup and, through the white gauze covering his eyes, regarded the man before him with neither warmth nor distance.

"Senior Chu, there’s no need for such courtesy. You’re being too polite."

In truth, during the scheme to hunt the Heart-Devouring Demon in Camellia Town, what had unsettled Wu Manshuang was never the so-called "fright."

What weighed on him was… his own helplessness.

When the three of them were captured by the gray-robed men, Wu Manshuang had stabbed his own wrist with a candlestick, only to fail.

He had glared furiously at the enemy, only for them to dangle Yan Luoyue before him, paralyzing him with fear.

And in the end, when Chu Tiankuo was brought to the ruins of Camellia Town and a dagger was pressed into his palm…

Throughout it all, his opponent had loomed like a mountain, an insurmountable barrier blocking the path of Wu Manshuang’s ambitions.

The vast gap in their cultivation made him feel like a tiny mayfly at the foot of that mountain. Every method he could think of, every desperate effort, seemed laughably inadequate.

Once before, the oppressive aura radiating from Ji Qinghong had given Wu Manshuang a similar feeling.

But though Ji Qinghong had teased and toyed with them for amusement, he had never truly threatened the lives of Wu Manshuang or Yan Luoyue.

Ji Qinghong’s presence had been like the exhale of a great beast.

You caught the scent of blood in the wind, yet the beast merely lay beside you, lazily cracking open an eye to glance at you before closing it again, indifferent.

Over time, the half-raised tension in your heart would settle, and you’d grow accustomed to the iron-tinged breeze. Eventually, you and your friends might even make a nest in the warmth of the beast’s fur.

…But Chu Tiankuo was different.

Chu Tiankuo was like a frost-covered sword. Before Wu Manshuang could even react, the cold steel tip was already at his throat, triggering every instinctive alarm in his body.

Even if the blade had only flickered past in jest, leaving not so much as a scratch,

Wu Manshuang had still glimpsed his own pale, powerless reflection in its edge.

Wu Manshuang admitted that while he was glad to hear the three of them had reached a happy ending, his attitude toward Chu Tiankuo alone was… complicated.

Yet, rather than resenting Chu Tiankuo’s scheme, what truly gnawed at Wu Manshuang was his own inadequacy.

As countless thoughts clamored through his mind, Chu Tiankuo suddenly spoke.

"Junior Brother Wu, on your Sword Peak, there’s a monument called the 'Great Dao Azure Sky Stele.' Have you ever seen it?"

Wu Manshuang blinked in surprise. "I’ve heard of it, but never had the chance to visit."

During the exchange of cultivation methods, it had been Yan Luoyue who stormed up Sword Peak in one go and visited the Great Dao Azure Sky Stele.

At the time, Wu Manshuang had been waiting patiently at the foot of the mountain, preoccupied with figuring out how to dismantle the sword array.

Later, after breaking the array and ascending, Sword Peak had regarded him with wariness, as if fearing he might become a second Ji Qinghong or Jiang Tingbai 2.0. So, no one had invited him to see this famous landmark.

Still, Wu Manshuang knew the inscription carved into the stele.

—The Great Dao stretches like the azure sky, yet I alone cannot break free.

His eyes flickered slightly as he realized why Chu Tiankuo had asked.

Somehow, those words resonated perfectly with Wu Manshuang’s current state of mind.

—He harbored ambitions to reach the heavens, yet remained trapped, unable to advance even a single step.

Unable to help himself, Wu Manshuang asked, "Back then… how did you, Senior, overcome this barrier?"

Chu Tiankuo chuckled. "Why not ask how your senior brother Jiang Tingbai broke through it?"

Wu Manshuang: "…"

Jiang Tingbai’s method had been to carve an additional line onto the stele: "If I can’t break free, then so be it. Stop worrying about the sky—care more about what’s around you."

In other words, if Jiang Tingbai couldn’t escape, he simply wouldn’t!

At the thought, Wu Manshuang replied stiffly, "But I… I can’t not break free."

Chu Tiankuo asked patiently, "Why?"

"There’s no why."

In that moment, countless familiar faces flashed through Wu Manshuang’s mind.

And deeper still, buried in the recesses of his subconscious, was an elusive, almost imperceptible thought that darted through his consciousness like a fleeting shadow.

Wu Manshuang said firmly, "If I don’t break free, then who will shatter this azure sky? Everyone else may choose to stay, but I cannot."

—He had always carried the inexplicable sense that he had been born into this world bearing some great responsibility.

Chu Tiankuo slowly set down his teacup, his gaze softening slightly.

There exists a tiny insect called the lacewing, which adorns itself with the empty shells, fragments, and even bits of earth from other insects.

This is their defense against predators, a survival strategy passed down through generations.

Among humans, too, there are those who live like lacewings, draping themselves in burdens—responsibilities, worries, missions, and attachments.

Wu Manshuang was such a person—thoughtful, considerate of others, carrying too many concerns, his heart heavy with unspoken weight.

This was his nature, something that could not be easily changed.

After a moment’s contemplation, Chu Tiankuo decided to take a roundabout approach, first helping Junior Brother Wu shed at least one of those burdens.

"Junior Brother Wu, take off the white gauze covering your eyes. I’ll teach you an unorthodox technique for controlling spiritual sense attacks."

Wu Manshuang hesitated.

Considering how formally he had addressed Chu Tiankuo just moments ago, he felt somewhat awkward accepting this kindness so readily.

Chu Tiankuo shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Junior Brother Wu, you really should take it off."

He painted a vivid picture: "Otherwise, over time, the rest of your face will tan, leaving a stark white stripe across your eyes… People will see your patchy complexion and assume your true form is that of a banded krait…"

Wu Manshuang: "…"

Mentally envisioning the scene, Wu Manshuang silently removed the gauze.

Chu Tiankuo nodded in satisfaction before patiently imparting the technique.

"Now, try again?"

Wu Manshuang thought for a moment, then retrieved a mirror from his sleeve.

For the first time in his life, without relying on peripheral reflections, he could look directly at his own face without stiffness.

After a pause, he picked up the long-neglected teacup and drained it in one gulp.

Softly, he said, "Thank you, Senior Brother Chu."

Chu Tiankuo laughed outright.

This child’s nature was stubborn and unyielding, yet his heart was surprisingly tender.

Teasingly, he remarked, "I’d assumed Junior Brother Wu would only call me 'senior brother' to my face once you were strong enough to defeat me."

Wu Manshuang flushed slightly.

Well… he couldn’t deny that the thought had crossed his mind.

But…

"Senior Brother Chu has treated me with kindness. I can sense it."

To Wu Manshuang, every shred of kindness in this world was a rare and precious thing.

He wasn’t picky about food or clothes. He could refuse a bribe worth a fortune without batting an eye, yet he couldn’t coldly dismiss someone’s sincere kindness.

Wu Manshuang politely bid farewell to Chu Tiankuo, rewrapped the white gauze around his eyes, and walked out of the cabin as usual.

Chu Tiankuo attached a wisp of his spiritual sense to him.

He saw the young man burying his newly learned skill deep in his heart.

Wu Manshuang walked past Jiang Tingbai without a flicker of expression, passed Ling Shuanghun with quiet restraint, skirted around the bow of the ship where Song Qingchi and Tao Tao were lost in their own sweet world, and finally found Yan Luoyue in the rear cabin.

Yan Luoyue was scattering birdseed into the wind, feeding the little birds that had chased after the "Golden Drumstick Flying Ship."

"Manshuang?"

Noticing Wu Manshuang’s approach, Yan Luoyue clapped her hands together, shaking off the last traces of powder from her palms.

Wu Manshuang stood quietly. The moment Yan Luoyue looked up at him, the corners of his lips curled, and he suddenly flashed a mischievous smile.

Then, with a swift tug, he yanked off the white gauze covering his eyes.

His obsidian-like pupils, shimmering like crystalline jewels, burned with a dazzling light as they fixed on Yan Luoyue.

It was as if a carefully wrapped gift had cheerfully undone its own decorative ribbon, then stood proudly before its recipient.

Their eyes met.

Then, in the two most beautiful gemstone mirrors in the world, Yan Luoyue saw her own reflection.

The reflection blinked once, then blinked again.

"Wow!"

Yan Luoyue gasped in delight. "I’m fine? You’re fine too—Wow, Manshuang, you’ve got it under control now!"

Wu Manshuang nodded emphatically. "Senior Brother Chu taught me an unorthodox technique."

"Did you come to see me first thing?"

Seizing the moment, Yan Luoyue picked up the white gauze and prepared to wrap it around Wu Manshuang’s eyes again.

"Come on, let’s go prank Xiao Ling! We’ve gotta give him a real scare!"

Wu Manshuang nodded solemnly. "Mm. Let’s play ‘Guess If You’ll Go Numb’ with him."

Yan Luoyue immediately grinned wickedly. "I don’t know if Xiao Ling will go numb, but we’re definitely gonna get scolded…"

"It’s fine," Wu Manshuang said airily, redirecting blame. "If we drag him into our mischief, then team up with him to prank someone else, we won’t get scolded…"

Back in the cabin, Chu Tiankuo held his teacup, leaned back, and smiled in satisfaction—like someone who had just witnessed the perfect conclusion to a delightful play.

"That’s more like it. This is how youngsters should be—not all brooding and bitter…"

Chu Tiankuo had posed the question and solved part of the problem.

As for what came next, he’d leave it to Yan Luoyue and Jiang Tingbai.

……

Unlike the warm and cheerful atmosphere aboard the flying ship, the Sword Dao Grand Assembly’s venue carried a faintly peculiar tension.

On the dueling platform, two sword cultivators clashed in fierce combat.

Meanwhile, atop the high platform reserved for sect elders and peak masters, many minds had long since drifted from the competition below.

They withdrew their spiritual senses inward, intently observing the movements of one particular figure among them.

This man had snow-white hair and crimson eyes, his face wearing an expression of amused detachment as his gaze lazily swept over the crowd, occasionally sending shivers down their spines.

Many cursed inwardly: —Damn it all, why did the Guiyuan Sect let Ji Qinghong out?!

According to insider reports, the representative for… well, that peak at this Sword Dao Grand Assembly was supposed to be Ji Qinghong’s eldest disciple, Jiang Tingbai.

Everyone knew Jiang Tingbai—he was famously known as "the least sword-cultivator-like sword cultivator" and "the least Ji-Qinghong-disciple-like disciple."

He was gentle, refined, reasonable, and deeply respectful toward his elders. Anyone who worked with him found the experience utterly pleasant.

Yet who could have guessed that, though Jiang Tingbai was originally slated to attend, halfway through, this rabbit-hearted fiend had taken his place?

Many suspected this was Ji Qinghong’s latest method of amusement—luring everyone here just to toy with them.

—This was the purest case of, "Had I known he was coming, I wouldn’t have come!"

Ji Qinghong propped his chin on one hand, leisurely scanning the crowd before settling his gaze on a man in Taoist robes, his sleeves embroidered with patterns representing artifacts, talismans, formations, swords, and pills.

Then, to everyone’s astonishment, Ji Qinghong’s person followed his gaze—he casually pulled up a chair beside the representative from the Hongtong Palace.

Everyone: "…"

Familiar elders exchanged glances, their expressions tinged with gossipy anticipation.

It was common knowledge that the reason Ji Qinghong was the least welcome figure in the cultivation world was his habit of randomly causing trouble—and that trouble might very well land on you.

Conversely, Ji Qinghong’s greatest utility in the cultivation world was also his habit of randomly causing trouble—and that trouble might very well land on your opponent.

And now, the notoriously overbearing Hongtong Palace was being targeted by Ji Qinghong… It was like watching the two most toxic forces in the cultivation world tear into each other.

Frankly, everyone was rather enjoying the show!

As for the Hongtong Palace representative, half his body had broken out in goosebumps the moment Ji Qinghong sat down beside him.

This man, surnamed Fei, was a minor elder in the Hongtong Palace.

He held no real authority, which was why he’d been assigned the menial task of escorting sword-cultivating disciples to the Sword Dao Grand Assembly.

After enduring Ji Qinghong’s keen, amused scrutiny for the time it took an incense stick to burn, Elder Fei finally couldn’t take it anymore.

"Esteemed Demon Venerable Ji and I have no prior acquaintance. Why… why does the Demon Venerable show me such… closeness today?"

The last word was practically ground out between clenched teeth—a forced substitution for "harassment."

Ji Qinghong replied unhurriedly, "Because I find the disciples of your palace… exceptionally rich in stories."

The moment these words left his mouth, muffled snickers rippled through the crowd.

Elder Fei’s brow twitched. He retorted with thinly veiled sarcasm, "In terms of stories, how could we compare to the illustrious and tumultuous history of Demon Venerable Ji?"

Ji Qinghong smiled. "The abundance of stories isn’t always tied to experience. Sometimes, it’s simply a matter of… boldness."

"After all, in my own tumultuous life, I’ve never had the pleasure of assassinating elite disciples of rival sects, raising demonic creatures for personal gain, colluding with said creatures, or betraying the entire human and demon races for selfish gain… Such thrilling exploits."

"!!!"

Without blinking, Ji Qinghong had slammed four increasingly damning accusations onto Elder Fei’s head—each more severe, more scandalous, and more horrifying than the last.

—Whether the Hongtong Palace had actually done these things or not, the labels were stuck on first.

For a moment, everyone abandoned the competition entirely, turning instead to watch Elder Fei and Ji Qinghong.

Elder Fei froze momentarily before his face flushed crimson with rage.

"Ji Qinghong! Though my cultivation may not match yours, I am still here as a representative of the Hongtong Palace! How dare you slander us so brazenly—do you hold our sect in no regard whatsoever?!"

The moment that drink was taken, it was as if the heavens had been split asunder. Even the competitors on the stage hesitated and paused their match.

At this very moment, no one could spare a thought for the competition anymore.

Elder Fei abruptly stood up, pointing at Ji Qinghong and shouting to the audience:

"Everyone heard what was just said clearly. Ji Qinghong’s accusations against me—his slander against our Hongtong Palace—cannot be dismissed with a mere joke!"

"Oh?" Ji Qinghong responded with an airy smile. "And what if I said… it wasn’t a joke?"

Elder Fei sneered. "What, just because I’m here watching the Sword Dao Grand Assembly—hosted by your Guiyuan Sect, no less—does that mean I’m colluding with demons?"

Ji Qinghong nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm, the Sword Dao Grand Assembly… it does have something to do with it."

He clapped his hands lightly and signaled, "Jiang Tingbai, bring him up."

The next moment, under the complex gazes of the crowd, Jiang Tingbai escorted a silver-robed young man through a small door beneath the stands.

"……"

After a moment of scrutiny, someone recognized the silver-robed figure. But before they could blurt out "Chu Tiankuo," Master Song of the Hanson Sect crushed the armrest of his seat with a single grip!

Elder Fei frowned. "This is Chu Tiankuo, the champion of the Sword Dao Grand Assembly eighty years ago. This man went berserk, slaughtering half the civilians of Camellia Town under our Hongtong Palace’s jurisdiction, then murdered his own junior brother and sister."

"Demon Venerable Ji, if you’ve captured this madman for me and Master Song, there was no need for such a dramatic display."

"Not quite," Ji Qinghong replied leisurely. "I’m not capturing him for your Hongtong Palace. I’m capturing Hongtong Palace… for Chu Tiankuo."

Elder Fei nearly doubted his own ears.

"…What did you say?"

But at this critical moment, Ji Qinghong seemed unwilling to speak another word. He closed his eyes, leaned back, and began meditating as if nothing concerned him!

Chu Tiankuo glanced around and saluted the crowd with a swordsman’s gesture.

"Elder Fei, before all these witnesses—eighty years ago, when the Soul-Devouring Demon appeared in Camellia Town under Hongtong Palace’s rule, it’s time for you to give the world an explanation."

Elder Fei was stunned speechless!

He was just an idle elder—if he had the authority to speak for Hongtong Palace, would he be stuck leading disciples to some youth competition?

Yet now, just as Chu Tiankuo had said, all eyes were on him, all fingers pointed at him.

Elder Fei knew he had no choice but to respond—and if he misspoke, he’d be hanging the entire palace out to dry in front of all the major sects!

Taking a deep breath, Elder Fei forced out a question. "You, a mere disciple who committed the atrocity of slaughtering your own junior siblings—how dare you accuse me? Speak now! Who put you up to this? Who gave you the audacity?"

Chu Tiankuo smiled faintly and declared, "First, today, I speak for the world. Second, my junior brother and sister… aren’t dead."

The moment these words left his lips, Master Song on the high platform shuddered again!

The next instant, a handsome young man in blue robes and a graceful woman in pink emerged gracefully from the shadows.

Elder Fei paused briefly, then his arrogance flared even hotter.

"Ah, so your junior siblings are alive! Then this isn’t even your sect’s internal affair—just the tragedy of Camellia Town!"

He slammed the table. "So today, you’ve come to confess to our Hongtong Palace—guards, seize—"

"Wait." Chu Tiankuo’s voice was crisp and clear.

"Half of Camellia Town was slaughtered back then, but it wasn’t by my hand—it was by your Hongtong Palace’s negligence in harboring demons, nurturing their menace, and colluding with them!"

Elder Fei scowled. "An eighty-year-old incident—what proof do you—"

Chu Tiankuo unhurriedly drew a golden peach-blossom hairpin from his sleeve.

"Your palace specializes in artifact refinement. Surely an elder of your rank can identify materials better than a failure like me, who barely passed his crafting exams."

He sighed. "The souls of most victims from Camellia Town now reside in Soul-Nurturing Pearls. Elder Fei, if you doubt me, you’re welcome to summon and question them."

Elder Fei snapped without thinking, "Nonsense! Since when are the testimonies of mortals admissible?"

Chu ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍Tiankuo tilted his head. "Then what kind of testimony would you accept?"

Elder Fei’s eyes darted. "To catch a thief, you need the loot. To expose adultery, you need the pair. If you claim demons were involved, you must provide details—what kind of demon, where it lurked."

He emphasized, "At the very least… you should have a piece of the demon’s flesh, bone, or even a scrap of skin as evidence!"

The moment he said this, Chu Tiankuo realized Elder Fei was likely privy to the truth of that incident.

After all, Soul-Devouring Demons were elusive by nature, their bodies impervious to sword energy, talismans, spells, or even Buddhist and Daoist purifying light.

How could anyone sever a piece of such a creature to present as proof?

Chu Tiankuo shook his head. "I don’t have any demon flesh or skin as evidence."

Elder Fei seized the opening. "You insolent brat! Hongtong Palace stands with integrity—how dare you slander us with mere words? Guards, take him—"

Chu Tiankuo sighed. "But… I brought the entire demon with me."

The words struck like a thunderclap, choking Elder Fei’s next command in his throat.

His face turned a spectacular palette of red, white, and green—as if a painter’s palette had been overturned.