29: Chapter 29 State Capital Final

Wei Feisen.

He sat there, looking down upon everything in the martial arts square as if he were watching a group of ants.

His gaze did indeed sweep over you.

But it was merely a glance.

No lingering, no extra attention, not even the slightest ripple of emotion.

He does not recognize you.

Of course he doesn't; you look like a completely different person compared to when you were sixteen. Your disguise, skin tone, temperament, cultivation, and physique—there is nothing that could connect you to that little girl from the bun shop in Yunjin City nine years ago.

You lower your eyes and continue walking forward.

Dealing with him is not for now.

You are not strong enough yet.

You stroke Xiao Wang's tiger head and your footsteps disappear steadily into the crowd.

On the teahouse balcony, Wei Feisen sets down his teacup and speaks faintly to the grey-clothed person behind him.

"That woman just now, she won against that brat from the Qian Family in three moves?"

"Yes."

"A bit interesting." He turns the thumb ring on his hand nonchalantly. "But that's all there is to it. Xiantian Peak... merely an ant."

He stands up, the hem of his brocade robe brushing against the chair.

"Let's go, time to meet our... Governor."

The two grey-clothed figures follow silently.

Three days later, Cheng Prefecture Martial Arts Tournament preliminary, martial arts square.

The square has expanded to three times the size since the day of registration, and stands have been erected all around, packed with people. Innate Martial Artists from all counties of Cheng Prefecture have gathered here, totaling one hundred and twenty-seven people, competing for five spots to go to Martial Arts Peak.

Drawing lots for groups, elimination format.

Your first opponent is a burly man in his forties, Early Stage Innate, wielding a mountain-splitting axe. When he sees you, his eyes light up for a moment, then dim again.

"Senior Sister Lin Shuang? The one who defeated Qian Yutang in three moves?" He scratches the back of his head with a bitter smile. "Miss, can I concede?"

"You may," you say.

He hesitates for two breaths, then grits his teeth: "No, at least let me try one move, so I have something to brag about to the brothers back home."

You nod.

He raises his axe and strikes, wide and open, with considerable force.

You draw your sword, one form of the Frost Moon Sword Technique: Moon Rise.

Sword light flashes, the axe flies out and pins into the wooden post at the edge of the ring, humming.

The burly man looks at his empty hands and grins: "Well, at least I have something to brag about now."

He jumps off the ring and walks away decisively.

Second match, Middle Stage Innate, dual-blade wielder.

One sword.

Third match, Middle Stage Innate, spear technique.

One sword.

Fourth match, Late Stage Innate, fist technique.

Two swords. You used one extra sword because this person's movement technique was decent; he dodged the first sword. But that was all.

As the four matches end, the discussions in the stands turn from noisy to uniform amazement.

"One sword... again, just one sword..."

"What exactly is this woman's background? Even a Late Stage Innate can't take two moves from her!"

"Someone gave her a nickname, calling her the 'One-Sword Immortal'."

"One-Sword Immortal? Fitting!"

You don't pay attention to these things, lowering your head to wipe non-existent dust from your sword.

Fifth match.

You see the person walking up opposite you and pause for a moment.

Zhou Ruoxuan.

The woman who was waving a round fan and calling you a "vixen" during registration.

She clearly sees you too.

The moment you look clearly at her face, it turns from its normal color to paper-white.

Her legs are shaking.

It's not an exaggeration; they are truly shaking. You can see the fabric at her knees trembling slightly.

The referee shouts "Start".

Zhou Ruoxuan's lips tremble twice, and she abruptly raises her right hand.

"I... I concede!"

Her voice is sharp and trembling, clearly audible across the entire martial arts square.

An uproar of laughter erupts from the stands.

"Hahahaha! Isn't that the one who called someone else a vixen earlier?"

"Her legs have even turned to jelly!"

"Should've known better than to act like that!"

Zhou Ruoxuan's face turns from white to red, then from red to purple, wishing she could find a crack in the ground to crawl into. She practically scrambles off the ring and dives into the crowd without looking back.

You withdraw the hand you had just placed on your sword hilt, expressionless.

To be honest, you don't even have the interest to draw your sword.

The preliminaries last for two days.

In those two days, you entered the ring a total of nine times.

Nine matches, totaling twelve swords used.

The title of "One-Sword Immortal" spreads from the martial arts square throughout the entire Yunyang City.

The third day, semifinals.

Your opponent is a direct Disciple of the Qingya Sect, Xiantian Peak, named Lu Qingyun. Twenty-eight years old, a Sword Cultivator, ranked third among the younger generation in Cheng Prefecture.

He stands opposite you, his expression solemn, without any contempt.

"Miss Lin, I have long heard of you." He bows, "I am not talented, but I ask that you go all out."

You look at him and nod.

This is the first opponent since the start of the preliminaries who has made you take them seriously.

The referee gives the order.

Lu Qingyun draws his sword, his Sword Qi like a green pine—steady and solid; one can tell it is the style of a prestigious sect. He does not attack rashly, but instead uses defense as an offense, testing your style.

A smart person.

You draw your sword, the first form of the Frost Moon Sword Technique: Moon Rise.

He blocks it.

As the swords clash, he takes a step back, the web between his thumb and forefinger slightly numb, but he stands firm.

You twitch your eyebrows. In the preliminaries, only two people could block your first sword. He is the second.

Second sword, fourth form: Cold Pool.

The sword light suddenly sinks, like a deep pool without waves, yet hiding murderous intent. Lu Qingyun's pupils constrict; he holds his long sword horizontally to meet this strike head-on. His feet carve two deep furrows into the ground as he retreats three steps.

"Good sword technique!" He lets out a low shout and strikes back with a sword, the tip of the blade carrying sharp True Qi, aiming straight for your shoulder.

You dodge to the side, your third sword already delivered.

Frost Moon Sword Technique, sixth form—Frost Break.

This sword is fast to the extreme. Lu Qingyun only has time to block horizontally; a tremendous force arrives, causing his long sword to fly out of his hand. His entire body is shaken away, flipping in the air before he stabilizes by kneeling on one knee.

Three swords.

He looks up at you and shakes his head with a bitter smile.

"I have lost."

Applause thunders from the stands.

"Three swords! Three swords again!"

"And Lu Qingyun is a direct Disciple of the Qingya Sect! The third best in Cheng Prefecture!"

"Just how strong is this Senior Sister Lin Shuang...?"

You sheathe your sword and nod slightly toward Lu Qingyun.

He stands up, pats the dirt off his knees, and bows to you earnestly: "Miss Lin's Dao of the sword is the best I have ever seen. Good luck in the finals."

You nod: "Thank you."

In the other semifinal match, Qian Yutang wins without any suspense.

When the final lineup is posted, the entire Yunyang City is in an uproar.

Senior Sister Lin Shuang vs Qian Yutang.

Everyone knows what the outcome will be. But everyone wants to see it with their own eyes.