On the Martial Arena halfway up Mount Qingxiao, Jiang Zhaoxia and Xu Ning stood facing each other, five zhang apart.
Below the stage, a sea of disciples had gathered, and the number was still growing. Some rushed up from the base of the mountain, others descended from the upper peaks. A few even flew over from Ziyang Peak, riding their swords through the air, landing breathlessly and hurrying closer—no one wanted to miss this duel.
The question of who was stronger between Jiang Zhaoxia and Xu Ning had long been one of the sect's most heated debates. Many believed Jiang Zhaoxia held the upper hand, given his seniority. Yet others argued Xu Ning's talent was even greater—her mystery, they said, eclipsed his years of cultivation.
Jiang Zhaoxia gazed at her calmly. "I've waited a long time for this battle."
Xu Ning's eyes remained serene. "You've just broken through to the eighth layer of the Nurturing Essence Realm. It wouldn't be fair to you if we fought now."
"You're quite arrogant," Jiang Zhaoxia replied with a faint smile.
Yet, as the two of them stood opposite each other, some of the stubborn defiance in his heart faded, replaced by an unexpected sense of calm.
"I'm not being arrogant," Xu Ning said evenly. "It's simply the truth. It's unfair in terms of realm, yes—but that doesn't mean I'm certain I'll win."
Her words eased something in Jiang Zhaoxia's chest. After all, he had his pride too.
"Uncle Jiang," Xu Ning added softly, "you saved my life once. I've never forgotten that debt. But from now on, it's best we don't go on missions together."
Jiang Zhaoxia's face twitched, but he didn't argue. He simply nodded in agreement.
The disciples below the stage exchanged confused looks.
'What's going on?'
'Did they fall out during a mission?'
Before the whispers could spread, Jiang Zhaoxia drew his sword. The blade glinted silver under the sunlight, and a fierce sword aura spiraled upward, wrapping around his arm before forming a translucent phantom that hovered behind him.
Gasps rippled through the crowd—the phantom looked almost identical to Jiang Zhaoxia himself, only sharper, deadlier.
Xu Ning narrowed her eyes. "A sword soul. So you've become a true sword cultivator."
Raising his blade, Jiang Zhaoxia pointed at her. "Then let's see whose path is stronger—the one who specializes in a single Dao, or the one without weaknesses."
Xu Ning drew her own sword. Though she hadn't yet formed a sword soul, the air around her rippled faintly with lightning, her aura calm yet formidable.
They locked eyes—and in the next instant, both vanished.
Their swords clashed midair, the impact sharp and deafening. Their movements blurred into streaks of light, their fierce sword qi exploding across the stage. The shockwaves swept through the arena, forcing nearby disciples and pilgrims to shield their faces.
Within mere heartbeats, tiny arcs of lightning began to flash across the stage—residual traces from Xu Ning's Heavenly Thunder Step.
Their speed was beyond comprehension. Not a single onlooker could follow their movements.
Zhao Zhen, Yuan Li, and the Xiao brothers had all come to watch, their expressions filled with awe.
Even those who had witnessed the Grand Dao Combat Tournament realized now that Xu Ning hadn't been fighting seriously before. Compared to this duel, everything else looked like child's play.
The two figures leapt high into the sky. Jiang Zhaoxia twisted his body midair and swung, his sword soul following in perfect unison. Their combined strike unleashed a storm of sword qi, a gleaming white arc slashing across the heavens.
Xu Ning raised her sword, releasing a burst of pure thunder. Thousands of streaks of lightning exploded outward, forming a vast electric net that swallowed Jiang Zhaoxia's sword light whole before closing in around him.
Jiang Zhaoxia's eyes narrowed sharply. With a flicker of killing intent, dozens of swords flew out from among the crowd below, all streaking upward toward Xu Ning.
"Ten Thousand Swords Return to One!"
Someone shouted in shock.
That was the Sect Master's own ultimate technique—used once against the Sword Saint of the Vast Sea! Jiang Zhaoxia could perform it too?
Hundreds of swords soared skyward in unison, their combined momentum shaking the heavens.
But Xu Ning didn't even glance down. Her eyes glowed with pure lightning, and in the next instant, her body transformed into a streak of thunder that shot straight toward Jiang Zhaoxia.
The explosion in midair scattered every flying sword into fragments.
Jiang Zhaoxia's pupils dilated. He twisted his body sharply, barely dodging the lightning-fast strike.
"What speed!"
He stared at her in disbelief. Her sword was impossibly fast—faster than lightning itself.
What kind of art was this?
'Why didn't Senior Brother teach me that?!'
Frustration flashed through his mind, but instinct took over. As he raised his sword to counter, Xu Ning unleashed another surge of thunder, blasting him backward through the air.
Blinding light flooded the arena, illuminating every face turned skyward.
"What… what kind of technique is that?"
"It doesn't look like a spell. It's like her vital energy itself carries lightning!"
"Could it be her cultivation method?"
"Impossible—she practices the Supreme Purity and Primordial Harmony Sutra, same as the rest of us!"
"She's incredible! Elder Jiang can't even keep up!"
The spectators erupted into astonished whispers. Xu Ning's lightning-infused aura had left them breathless.
At the back of the crowd, Jiang Nian clenched his fists within his sleeves. Though he'd come to resent Jiang Zhaoxia, he still couldn't bring himself to hope for his defeat.
A calm voice spoke beside him. "Senior Sister Xu's constitution truly is unique. That's not a spell—her vital energy itself contains lightning."
Jiang Nian turned and found Yuan Li, the same senior who had once guided him, standing beside him.
He felt a rush of gratitude. Following Yuan Li's advice had changed his life completely. The path he'd found since then—filled with new goals, new wonder—had softened his obsession with hatred.
"Constitution?" he asked, surprised. "So everyone's vital energy can be different?"
He had already begun cultivating the Supreme Purity and Primordial Harmony Sutra, so he understood the basics of vital energy. Until now, he'd thought everyone's vital energy was the same—only the difference in realm determined its strength.
"Most people's is indeed similar," Yuan Li said, "but a few are different—just like Senior Sister Xu."
His gaze flickered as he watched Xu Ning battling in the sky. A thought suddenly arose in his mind—Could I create a special kind of vital energy for myself?
Ever since he started cultivating the Heavenly Firmament Golden Body Art, he had developed many new insights into the body-refining path.
Just then, an uproar rippled through the crowd again. Jiang Zhaoxia's sword struck Xu Ning with tremendous force, sending her crashing down onto the Martial Arena. The ground cracked under the impact, and the entire platform trembled violently.
The battle was still far from over!
…
In the blazing heat of summer, sunlight filtered through the forest canopy, scattering golden patches across the grass. A group of children climbed the mountain path, each carrying a bamboo basket. There were fourteen of them in total—the oldest around fifteen or sixteen, the youngest barely three or four.
Sweat drenched their faces, yet none complained of exhaustion. Even the smallest child pressed forward without a word of protest.
After crossing a slope, they finally spotted the courtyard wall half-hidden behind the trees. Smiles broke across their faces.
"Master, we're back!"
The boy leading the group called out loudly. His voice startled a few monkeys in the trees, which began chattering and leaping about wildly.
He quickened his pace, running up to the courtyard gate. Setting his basket down, he turned back to help the younger disciples carry theirs.
A short while later, all fourteen children sat in front of the courtyard gate, panting heavily.
Behind them stood a modest wall built from stacked stones, the gaps between them still uneven and unfilled. Inside the gate was a simple yard, where two yellow dogs chased each other around playfully. Five small houses stood within—three in a row at the front, two set to the sides.
From the courtyard emerged a man dressed in white. His features were handsome, his expression gentle. Compared to the young disciples, he looked like an immortal living in seclusion among the mountains.
This was Zhou Ya, Sect Master of the Qingxia Sect—a True Disciple of the Qingxiao Sect, currently at the third layer of the Nurturing Essence Realm.
"Master, look at what we brought back—there's vegetables and meat!"
A boy of about ten years old called out, his voice full of excitement despite his exhaustion.
The others quickly joined in, filling the air with cheerful chatter.
Zhou Ya smiled warmly at them, his heart filled with pride and affection. He truly loved these children and wished he could protect them through the chaos of the world.
Yet, when he remembered how long he'd already been away from the sect, his heart grew heavy. If he didn't return within two months, the Qingxiao Sect might presume he'd gone missing.
"Tonight, I'll handle dinner. You all just rest," Zhou Ya said as he stepped forward, picking up a bamboo basket and walking back into the courtyard.
The boy who had led the group earlier quickly got up and hurried after him. "Master," he asked, "will the martial art you're teaching us really make us great heroes one day? We saw two martial artists fighting in the village today—they were amazing!"
"Fighting?" Zhou Ya frowned. "What happened?"
The boy replied quickly, "They were passing through the village. It looked like their sects were enemies. After a few rounds, they left in opposite directions. Don't worry, Master—we didn't reveal the Qingxia Sect's location!"
Zhou Ya's frown didn't ease. His tone grew stern. "Qiu Dahuo, how many times have I told you not to take your junior brothers and sisters to dangerous places? Blades and swords don't have eyes. If any of them were hurt, you'd regret it for life. You'd carry that guilt forever."
The boy called Qiu Dahuo looked down, his voice small and aggrieved. "Master, I wasn't trying to watch the fight. They started suddenly in the middle of the street."
"You should've taken the others and left immediately," Zhou Ya said sharply. His tone was heavy enough that Qiu Dahuo's eyes reddened, his lip trembling.
Taking a deep breath, Zhou Ya softened his voice. "Dahuo, I won't always be here to protect you. One day, you'll inherit the position of Sect Master of Qingxia Sect. You must learn to take responsibility."
The boy froze, his eyes wide. "Master, are you leaving? Can't you stay with us forever? We'll take good care of you!"
Zhou Ya sighed quietly. "I only came here to complete a mission. If I hadn't met you all, I would've left long ago."
"Then when the mission's done, will you come back?" Qiu Dahuo asked anxiously.
Zhou Ya's voice turned faint. "I've already broken the rules by staying this long. If I remain here, I'll only bring disaster upon you—and not a small one."
"What disaster? Master, you're the strongest person in the world! No one can trouble you!"
Zhou Ya smiled faintly and shook his head. "This world is far larger than you can imagine. I may seem strong to you, but there are many out there far stronger than I am."
He placed the basket inside the courtyard, then walked toward the gate again.
Qiu Dahuo followed closely behind, blurting out, "Master, do you have enemies? When we get stronger, we'll help you take revenge!"