112: Challenge!

The Sword Qi was no more than three feet long, condensed like solid blue crystal. Its edges were sharp, and within it, a cold light surged like flowing water, emitting a bone-chilling frost and an incomparably sharp Sword Intent. It did not dissipate immediately but hung quietly in mid-air like a frozen river, cutting subtle ripples into the air.

Immediately after, Mu Qingxue's fingertips trembled slightly as she tapped the air several times.

The azure Sword Qi trembled in response, suddenly splitting into several thinner, more condensed sword glows. As if possessed of a spirit, they accurately met several pink petals being blown in from outside the building—late-blooming Begonias from the courtyard of Lanyue Tower.

Silence.

The sword glows sliced through the petals at such speed that the naked eye could barely track their trajectory.

The crowd only felt a flash of blue light before their eyes, and the petals had already quietly split apart, slowly drifting down.

Every petal was divided perfectly in half along its central axis. The cuts were as smooth as a mirror, and one could even see the finest internal veins of the petals neatly severed. The two halves of the split petals fluttered down in almost perfectly symmetrical trajectories.

Only after completing this exquisite strike did the azure Sword Qi slowly dissipate into the air like starlight, leaving behind a lingering, icy Sword Intent and perfectly symmetrical petal fragments on the ground.

The entire hall was so quiet that a pin drop could be heard.

There was no cheering, no gasping; everyone was awestruck by this extreme condensation, extreme precision, and extreme control.

This was no longer just a display of Martial Skill, but an art of microscopic control over one's own power!

The Sword Qi remained solid and did not dissipate, cutting the soft and fragile petals with unerring uniformity. The sword cultivation and mental control contained within were both mesmerizing and terrifying.

Yan Chen, who had been leaning back in his chair, had long since put away his slightly arrogant expression. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on the falling petal remains, flames dancing in his eyes with an unprecedented gravity. Even he admitted it would be extremely difficult to achieve such effortless, microscopic precision.

At the guest of honor seats, the white-haired old woman from the Qiushui Sword Sect nodded slightly, a look of satisfaction in her eyes. The Governor, Ling Feng, and the others also showed looks of admiration.

Chen Linsheng's pupils constricted slightly. His perception from Tracking Perfection allowed him to appreciate the terror of that sword strike more than anyone else.

“The Sword Qi is condensed as if solid, the chill is bone-piercing, and more importantly, there is that perfect unity of mind and Sword Qi, that microscopic control. Her way of the sword has already caught a glimpse of the ‘Clear Sword Heart’ realm; it’s far beyond simple brute force.” He evaluated her in his mind, raising Mu Qingxue’s threat level once again.

Mu Qingxue seemed unresponsive to the silence she caused. She slowly withdrew her finger as if she had only done a trivial thing, bowed slightly to the surroundings, and turned back to her seat. She picked up her teacup again, her temperament remaining as cold and clear as snow.

It took a long time before suppressed gasps and low murmurs of admiration sounded in the hall.

“Solidifying Sword Qi into form... she’s about to touch the threshold of ‘Sword Qi Manifestation,’ isn’t she?”

“So precise! The cuts on those petals look like they were sliced with the sharpest blade against a ruler!”

“Mu Qingxue of the Qiushui Sword Sect... her reputation is well-deserved!”

After this scene, the impression of brute force previously brought by the Blazing Sun Martial Arts Hall seemed to be diluted quite a bit by this icy, precise sword strike.

The gazes of many people directed toward Mu Qingxue now carried a sense of awe.

The performances continued, but with Mu Qingxue's brilliant display preceding them, although the subsequent performers tried their best, it always felt like something was missing.

Just as the atmosphere was turning slightly dull, Young Master Yu, who had been watching with a smile from a side seat at the guest of honor table, suddenly shook his folding fan lightly and spoke warmly: “The Skills of these young talents are truly breathtaking. This White has an old servant who knows a bit of swordsmanship. Seeing this grand gathering today, he feels an itch in his heart. I wonder if he might also come up to give a humble performance to amuse everyone?”

His tone was humble and his smile was gentle, making people feel as if they were bathed in a spring breeze.

Everyone's attention was immediately drawn to him, falling upon the unremarkable sword-cradling old man behind him who had been resting with his eyes closed.

The Governor stroked his beard and smiled. “Young Master White comes from a distinguished family, and even his servants are extraordinary. Since you have such an interest, it is naturally permitted.”

“Thank you, Lord Governor.” Young Master Yu bowed slightly, then said softly to the old man behind him, “Uncle Fu, please stretch your limbs a bit.”

The sword-cradling old man named Uncle Fu slowly opened his eyes.

What kind of eyes were those?

At first glance, they were cloudy and spiritless, like a common old man's, but upon closer inspection, the depths of his eyes seemed like a waveless ancient well, yet also seemed to contain ten thousand sword shadows that flashed for an instant before returning to calm.

He didn't speak, but silently stood up, cradling his plain and unadorned longsword—its scabbard even looked a bit worn—as he hobbled toward the open space in the hall. He didn't look like a top-tier swordsman, but rather like an old farmer resting after working in the fields.

Many people showed looks of doubt. Does this old man... really have any ability?

Uncle Fu stood still in the center of the open space, still cradling his sword as if in a daze. After a few breaths, he slowly reached out his right hand and grasped the hilt.

Drawing the sword.

Sheathing the sword.

Two movements, plain and unadorned, even appearing somewhat slow.

More than ninety percent of the people in the hall felt as if their vision blurred for a moment, as if a faint gray shadow had flashed by, yet also as if nothing had happened. The old man still stood there cradling his sword, as if he had never moved.

“That's it?” someone couldn't help but mutter.

However, the pupils of a few people, including Chen Linsheng, Yan Chen, Mu Qingxue, Lei Hao, Yu Linfeng, and Xu Wangshu, suddenly constricted at that moment!

Chen Linsheng's Tracking Perfection perception operated at full power, and he barely managed to catch that fleeting trajectory—it wasn't a simple draw and sheath. In the instant of drawing, the blade had sliced through the air with unimaginable speed and precision, passing through a stick of incense burning quietly on a table three zhang away before returning to its scabbard. The entire process was as smooth as flowing water, faster than the limit of ordinary human vision. More importantly, it was effortless, with no Qi leaking out and even the sound of the blade cutting the air being nearly inaudible!

The crowd's gazes followed those of Chen Linsheng and the others toward that table.

The stick of incense was still burning quietly, the smoke rising straight up, seemingly without any abnormality.

But in the next instant, under countless gazes, the upper part of the incense, about an inch long, slowly and smoothly slid down along an absolutely horizontal line. With a light 'clack,' it fell onto the silk-covered tabletop.

The cut was as smooth as a mirror, even reflecting the light from the lanterns above.

Incredibly, the bottom half of the incense remained standing firmly, and the ash stayed in place, not even a speck being shaken off!

Fast! Precise! Steady!

So fast it was imperceptible, so precise it was unerring, and so steady the ash didn't fall!

This was no longer swordsmanship, but a control that bordered on the Dao!

It shared the same subtle control as Mu Qingxue's, but in terms of speed and the Concept of effortless grace, it seemed even more seasoned and profound.

Inside the hall, this time even the sound of gasping had nearly vanished, replaced by a suffocating silence.

Those who had originally looked doubtful finally reacted, their faces instantly filled with horror.

Young Master Yu still wore a gentle smile, as if he had long expected the shock Uncle Fu would cause. He clapped lightly, breaking the silence: “Uncle Fu is old; that was a humble display.”

Uncle Fu silently returned to stand behind Young Master Yu, closing his eyes to rest again as if that stunning sword strike had nothing to do with him.

At the guest of honor seats, Ling Feng looked deeply at Young Master Yu and Uncle Fu, then leaned over to whisper a few words to the Governor. The Governor’s eyes also flashed with surprise, and he nodded slightly.

The master of the Blazing Sun Martial Arts Hall looked grim. Yan Chen's hand on his knee unconsciously clenched into a fist, his knuckles turning white.

Chen Linsheng slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air, his heart churning. “This old man... his strength is unfathomable, far beyond what he just showed. For Young Master Yu to have such a person by his side, what exactly is his background?” He vaguely felt that this Hidden Dragon Banquet, aside from the overt competition between young geniuses, seemed to hide even more unknown undercurrents.

With the free performance segment reaching this point, the atmosphere had been pushed to a peak.

The brute force of Blazing Sun, the precision of Qiushui, and the artistic swordsmanship of Young Master Yu's attendant were like three waves, each higher than the last, impacting the mind of every Martial Artist present.

Many young talents who were originally full of confidence now had gravity and pressure they could not hide on their faces.

To stand out in the competition for that final, solitary spot, they would be facing more than just competitors of their own age.

Lei Hao leaned toward Chen Linsheng's ear, his voice extremely low and carrying a rare solemnity: “Brother Chen, do you see? These waters are deeper than we thought. That old man... I'm afraid he's not much weaker than my old man. This White Feather is definitely not simple.”

Chen Linsheng nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the various expressions of the crowd before falling back to the teacup in front of him.

The clear tea reflected the painted ceiling of Lanyue Tower, and it also seemed to reflect the even more intense storms to come.

The performance segment was drawing to a close, and the true dragon-and-tiger struggle had yet to begin.

Seeing that the time was right, the Governor stood up again, his voice spreading through the hall: “Everyone, the performances were brilliant and eye-opening. I presume everyone has exchanged enough insights. Next, we shall begin the highlight of today's Hidden Dragon Banquet—the Arena Matches!”

“The rules are as stated before: voluntary entry. A defender who wins three consecutive matches, or if no one dares to challenge them, will advance to the next round. Ultimately, the one who stands last will be the winner and earn the qualification to enter the ‘Jiǔqū Refining Pool’!”

“Now—” The Governor's voice suddenly rose, “The Arena Matches officially begin! Who is willing to be the first to take the stage and defend the arena?”

As his words fell, gazes flickered and Battle Intent surged throughout the hall, yet everyone held back; no one stood up immediately.

The first to take the stage could certainly seize the initiative, but they would also easily become a target for everyone and consume a massive amount of energy.

In the silence, a fiery red figure suddenly stood up.

Yan Chen's eyes were like lightning as they swept across the hall, finally locking firmly onto Chen Linsheng. His voice was sonorous, like the clashing of metal:

“Yan Chen of the Blazing Sun Martial Arts Hall is willing to offer a humble start and set up the arena here!”

“Junior Brother Chen Linsheng of the Yangwei Martial Arts Hall—do you dare to come up and fight?!”

A direct call-out, with no hesitation! The blazing Battle Intent and pressure, like a volcanic eruption, instantly swept through the entire hall of Lanyue Tower!

Everyone's gaze focused once again on that dark green figure.

Chen Linsheng put down his teacup and slowly stood up, his robes moving even without wind.

“Why would I not dare.”