After Refusing Marriage to the Dao of Slaughter Patriarch (12)

The third level of Qi Condensation was almost no different from a mortal, yet he could beat them until they had no room to fight back. Even if that person was their admired and respected Senior Brother Ji, the renowned heaven's pride of the Yushui Sect, such a disparity still made this group of disciples feel a genuine sense of frustration.

If they couldn't even defeat someone at the third level of Qi Condensation, wouldn't they become targets for counter-kills across realms in the Hanlin Sword Trial, just a bunch of powerless trash?

These youths became visibly depressed.

Ji Zhaixing did not voice any words of comfort.

He merely called out softly, "Jin Wenning."

The disciple he called out to subconsciously responded and raised his head.

"Junior Brother's foundation is very steady, and body cultivation is your advantage. Therefore, when facing me," Ji Zhaixing turned the unremarkable iron sword in his hand, pointing it towards his ankles, "attack my lower body, then engage in close-quarters combat, not giving me the leeway to swing my sword."

"Ling Jun. You have Water and Wood Spiritual Roots. Using the Wood Entanglement Spell and Water Cage Spell to delay the enemy's movements is a good idea, but when you have no fellow cultivators to cover you while you cast, you could perhaps start with the Water Trap Spell to buy yourself some leeway to attack."

"Di Yingrong. Your footwork is agile..."

Ji Zhaixing calmly called out the names of these disciples one by one, pointing out their minor flaws with a normal expression, as if he were doing an ordinary little thing.

But to these disciples, it was exceptionally different.

Remembering Qi Baishan's name was to be expected. After all, Qi Baishan was quite famous in the Yushui Sect and was Ji Zhaixing's direct junior brother under the same master.

But as for them, they were perhaps just familiar faces to Senior Brother Ji. They never expected that Senior Brother Ji not only matched their names to their appearances, but also remembered the details of their attack habits clearly, racking his brains for their sake.

They truly felt ashamed to receive such treatment.

After Ji Zhaixing finished speaking, his lips curved slightly into a warm smile as he gently asked, "Then, do you want to try again?"

"The goal," Ji Zhaixing drew his sword from its sheath and calmly said, "is to defeat me."

In this peaceful island, the sound of clashing weapons continuously rang out.

The Yushui Sect disciples were much more serious than before, no longer sticking to a rigid turn-based order. Ultimately, it simply turned into a free-for-all brawl.

Every spell they cast was genuinely well-thought-out, precise, and swift.

Ji Zhaixing's movements were far from fast, like he was taking a stroll amidst the flashing swords and shadows of blades, yet he was able to display every stance and form to the absolute limit. Every parry was an attack, causing this pack of inexperienced wolf cubs to become somewhat flustered.

No one could beat Ji Zhaixing.

And the last one standing was Qi Baishan, who was at the ninth level of Qi Condensation.

Not only did this guy have the highest cultivation level, but he was also incredibly sly. Every time, he let his junior brothers and sisters go first while he hid in the dark to launch sneak attacks.

But now, there was no one left to act as his meat shield.

Qi Baishan's magical artifact was very special; it was a Hidden Fan Blade. When that white fan artifact opened, a scarlet sharp blade would dart out from the folds.

Qi Baishan usually used this artifact as a close-combat weapon, which made it particularly suppressed by a sword cultivator like Ji Zhaixing.

Ji Zhaixing merely shifted his footwork slightly, closing the distance, and his icy sword edge instantly pressed against Qi Baishan's left hand holding the fan.

Knowing when to stop, the outcome was decided.

However, Qi Baishan's eyes slightly darkened as if he had made up his mind. His wrist, firmly pressed against the sword's edge, actually surged with true essence. He took a step closer, reaching into Ji Zhaixing's hair.

Ji Zhaixing frowned slightly in that instant and retracted his sword, likely not expecting Qi Baishan to be so reckless. If he hadn't withdrawn his hand quickly, Qi Baishan's left hand would have been crippled.

In the end, a line of blood was cut onto Qi Baishan's hand. Unable to hold his Hidden Fan Blade steadily, it fell with a whoosh of wind.

Ji Zhaixing raised his eyes to look at him, his expression somewhat cold.

Qi Baishan, who was originally about to dance with wild joy, instantly behaved himself. There was no trace of the fierceness he had when he crashed into the sword's edge earlier. He even tilted his head back and said somewhat pitifully, "Senior Brother Ji, does this count as me winning one move?"

Only then did Ji Zhaixing realize that Qi Baishan's previous move, which seemed as if he feared no death, was merely to cut off the hairband used to tie his hair.

"..."

Raising a hand, he touched the hairband that had pitifully been sliced in two. The icy-smooth silk satin felt like a handful of overflowing water in his palm.

As the already overwhelmed hairband was removed, Ji Zhaixing's ink-like hair cascaded down and scattered loosely over his shoulders.

Ink-black hair and snow-white skin; his exquisite appearance was so beautiful it was dazzling.

Qi Baishan said somewhat bashfully, "Senior Brother looks very nice with his hair down too..."

The other Yushui Sect disciples frantically agreed in their hearts.

Ji Zhaixing said, "Thank you."

That severed hairband was wrapped in his palm. Ji Zhaixing paused slightly; instead of throwing it away, he casually tied it over his eyes, blindfolding his vision, and said warmly, "You've all made great progress, especially Little Junior Brother."

Qi Baishan's tender face blushed red once more.

Then he heard his senior brother warmly say again, "Let's continue training. This time, I will be blindfolded and suppress my realm to the ninth level of Qi Condensation. Let's see how you deal with it."

Qi Baishan touched the bridge of his nose, feeling a subtle sense that...

He was probably going to be out of luck.

......

It was at this time that Yong Lianyin finally couldn't suppress his curiosity and confusion, quietly climbing onto the edge of the courtyard wall.

He was also a cultivator who had come to participate in the Hanlin Sword Trial. His cultivation level could be considered extremely high for his age, definitely belonging to the type of stunningly brilliant, dragon-among-men prodigies.

But alas, the sect he came from was far too impoverished. It was a minor branch sect of the Bumeng Sect from eight hundred years ago. To this day, it only had two people—his long-deceased master, and him, this unreliable sect master.

As for how unreliable he was, it was to the extent that when he came to participate in the Hanlin Sword Trial, he was treated by the Bumeng Sect cultivators as a freeloader here for free food and drinks. Even when he took out the token allowing him to participate, the gaze of the cultivator examining it seemed to interrogate Yong Lianyin on where he had stolen it from.

In the end, the negotiation resulted in allowing him to participate, but there were no vacant rooms. The Bumeng Sect would not house him; he had to go to the islands near the sect to find an inn himself.

Yong Lianyin really wanted to fight for his pride, but after touching his coin pouch, he chickened out.

He simply didn't have the money to stay at an inn. No gold or silver, and definitely no spirit stones.

Therefore, he birthed some little ulterior motives.

He knew that the Bumeng Sect arranged for disciples from large sects to have not just one room per person, but sometimes even an entire courtyard per person. If he snuck in and crashed for a few nights, it probably wouldn't be a big deal.

Yong Lianyin even wondered if leaving behind his few broken fragments of spirit stones as rent would be too shabby for them.

Unfortunately, Yong Lianyin's luck had always been poor.

He deliberately chose a sparsely populated sub-island with plenty of houses, preparing to carefully freeload a stay.

Who knew that the moment he closed his eyes, the sound of clashing weapons would transmit from the courtyard next door.

He had naturally acute senses, and wondered if these cultivators didn't get tired, gathering a crowd for a brawl in the middle of the night. Tossing and turning in bed, he finally couldn't hold back anymore. Carefully concealing his figure, he prepared to take a look—

With just this one look, he almost fell off the top of the wall.

Yong Lianyin saw an exceptionally beautiful person.

Under the moonlight, their skin was snow-white, and the tied green robes made that waist look exceptionally slender. Pitch-black hair cascaded down naturally, with some falling into the collarbones, further accentuating the skin that was like congealed snow.

Yong Lianyin actually couldn't see the youth's full face, because he likely had an eye ailment; his eyes were wrapped in a snow-white medicinal bandage. He looked incomparably frail, provoking one's heart to ache for him.

And there were actually other people in this courtyard. Though they looked somewhat presentable, each of them held a lethal weapon, closing in on the beauty.

In that instant, Yong Lianyin's mind quickly recalled countless melodramatic storybooks he had read, mentally fabricating eight hundred thousand words of sect infighting and a suffering beauty. He thought to himself that these large sects were all dirty; so many people could actually bring themselves to attack such a beautiful and frail great beauty. Beasts!

Yong Lianyin as a person actually still had some warm-hearted chivalry. At this moment, all he thought about was that even if he offended these large sect disciples, he couldn't just watch the great beauty be bullied. Immediately, he flipped down and ignited the talisman in his hand; the courtyard was instantly covered in a dense fog. Even if one had a divine spiritual eye ability, they wouldn't be able to see clearly.

Even though Ji Zhaixing had suppressed his cultivation to the Qi Condensation stage, his spiritual sense was still extremely acute. He almost instantly realized something was wrong, and that someone was lurking to launch a sneak attack—

Just as Ji Zhaixing was preparing to strike, that person had already arrived beside him.

"Don't be afraid," Yong Lianyin said nervously, "I'm here to save you."

Ji Zhaixing: "?"

Yong Lianyin knew quite a lot of obscure secret arts. Just like at this moment, taking advantage of the instant Ji Zhaixing hesitated, he quickly completed the spatial array that was only one stroke short, taking him and disappearing from the spot.

When that strange fog dispersed, the Yushui Sect disciples looked at each other in dismay, realizing that none of them were missing—but Senior Brother Ji had been stolen away!

That hastily drawn spatial array teleported the two to the edge of an island five hundred miles away. Yong Lianyin still felt that those sect disciples wouldn't let things go easily. He urged Ji Zhaixing to quickly leave, saying with great solemnity and tragic heroism, "I'll help you block their pursuit, don't look back—"

Ji Zhaixing found it somewhat amusing.

"If they were really pursuing to kill, they'd be pursuing you, not me."

Yong Lianyin felt that the great beauty was too kind, ignorant of the world's sinister nature. "That's because you can't see, they were all planning to bully you."

Ji Zhaixing then took off the blindfolding hairband.

Although he didn't know what the other party had misunderstood, it was better to clear things up early.

Thus, the moment Ji Zhaixing took off his blindfold, he saw a rather handsome young man staring at him blankly.

—Yong Lianyin guessed that the other party was a great beauty, but he never expected Ji Zhaixing to be this good-looking. Those eyes contained a hint of mist, extremely beautiful. Probably only a blind man would think he was blind.

Yong Lianyin's Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

The great beauty asked him, "Which sect's disciple are you? Why have you come here?"

In the past, Yong Lianyin never cared about his background, carelessly parading his identity as the sect master of a poor, broken little sect. But in front of Ji Zhaixing, he suddenly felt a bit embarrassed to tell him that he came from a run-down little sect that couldn't even afford meals, that he had lived in the wilderness for a month on his way to the Bumeng Sect, and that thinking the island winds were strong and the nights cold, he had spinelessly come to freeload off someone else's room. He had no choice but to casually drag out the reputation of the Number One Great Sect in the world—after all, large sects had so many people, making it easy to fish in troubled waters.

"Ahem, I'm from the Yushui Sect. Just got lost."

Ji Zhaixing: "..."

Afraid that he would press further about what the Yushui Sect was like, Yong Lianyin asked with a guilty conscience, "And you?"

Ji Zhaixing: "The Yushui Sect."

Yong Lianyin: "............"