113: Chapter 113 How Deep Are the Roots?

"Not bad."

"There are few who can seize this opportunity."

Li Changsheng did not answer; he was merely panting heavily.

By the 150th move, both of them were already exhausted.

Li Changsheng's gray robe was soaked with sweat, and his breathing was as heavy as an ox's.

Zhou Yuan's forehead was also beaded with sweat, but his indifferent expression remained unchanged.

Zhou Yuan's swordsmanship was still sharp, but his speed had slowed down.

Li Changsheng knew he could not drag this out any longer.

He took a deep breath, suddenly withdrew his defense, and threw a punch!

This punch had no frills, only the purest power and speed!

Green Wood Fist, 13th Form — Withered Wood Meets Spring!

Zhou Yuan's expression changed!

He had not expected Li Changsheng to suddenly change his style at such a moment, nor had he expected the power of this punch to be so terrifying!

Before the fist even arrived, the surging force of vitality was already rushing toward him!

It was not killing intent, but... the power of life!

It was as if withered wood had met spring, and all things were reviving!

But it was precisely this force of vitality that suppressed his icy Sword Intent!

Life and death conflict; vitality against deathly stillness!

Zhou Yuan had no time to think; he shifted his sword stance and met it with all his might!

Bang!

Fist and sword collided!

A loud noise erupted, and a shockwave exploded outward!

Both of them retreated several steps at the same time!

Li Changsheng steadied himself and gasped for air.

There was a deep sword mark on his fist, and blood was flowing freely.

But there was a hint of a smile on his face.

Zhou Yuan looked down at the sword in his hand.

A crack had actually appeared on the blade.

It was clearly visible, extending from the tip all the way to the guard.

He raised his head, looked at Li Changsheng, and a flash of surprise crossed his eyes.

"Good fist technique."

He said, his voice still indifferent, but with a rare hint of warmth.

"What is this move called?"

"Withered Wood Meets Spring," Li Changsheng said.

Zhou Yuan nodded.

He looked down at the sword in his hand, then at the crack, and remained silent for a moment.

Then, he did something no one had expected.

He sheathed his sword.

"I concede."

The entire arena was in an uproar!

"What? He conceded?"

"Zhou Yuan conceded?!"

"He clearly still had the strength to fight!"

The Disciples of the Jinyang Sect looked at each other, unable to believe it.

Lin Jingyun, however, smiled, as if he had already anticipated this result.

The Disciples of the Qinglan Sword Sect were also stunned, but then erupted into thunderous cheers!

Li Changsheng was also stunned.

He looked at Zhou Yuan with confusion in his eyes.

Zhou Yuan looked at him and said indifferently.

"I cannot break this move. If we continue to fight, my sword will break, and I will lose."

"It is better to concede and save some strength to deal with others."

He paused, then added.

"Your fist technique is very strong. I hope to fight you again next time."

After saying this, he turned and stepped off the stage.

His back was still cold, but there was a hint of detachment to it.

Li Changsheng stood where he was, motionless for a long time.

He watched Zhou Yuan's departing back, then looked down at his bleeding fist, and a wry smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

He had won this fight.

But he had won it narrowly.

If not for that move, "Withered Wood Meets Spring," and if not for the fact that Zhou Yuan's sword had given out first, the one who lost might have been him.

He took a deep breath and jumped off the martial arts stage.

Li Changqing rushed up to support him.

Shi Tiezhu handed over a Medicinal Pill for healing, and Li Xiaocao carefully bandaged his wound.

In the distance, Lin Jingyun walked over and patted his shoulder with a smile.

"Brother Li, impressive! You are the first person to make my Senior Brother concede!"

Li Changsheng shook his head: "Just lucky."

Lin Jingyun chuckled: "You are being modest."

He looked back in the direction Zhou Yuan had left and said in a low voice.

"My Senior Brother might appear cold, but he does not have a bad heart."

"He conceded because he truly acknowledges you. If there is a chance in the future, you can become friends."

Li Changsheng nodded without speaking.

He looked up into the distance.

In the area where the Jinyang Sect was, Zhou Yuan had already sat down and was closing his eyes to adjust his breathing, as if nothing had happened.

Over at the Medicine King Valley, Yun Yifei was looking at him with a smile, his eyes filled with appreciation.

Over at the Qingxin Pavilion, Su Qianxue's gaze fell upon him, and there seemed to be something more in those clear eyes.

And over at the Blood Fiend Sect...

Li Sha was still sitting there, his face pale and his eyes blood-red. He looked at Li Changsheng, a meaningful smile curling the corners of his mouth.

That smile was even more dangerous than before.

Li Changsheng withdrew his gaze and walked toward the post house.

The top seven.

He had made it in.

Now, what Li Changsheng needed most was to improve his Cultivation Realm as quickly as possible.

He had enough combat experience, and his Cultivation Technique was sufficient; the only thing lacking was his Cultivation Realm.

He needed to absorb the energy of the nine-turn azure profound bead as soon as possible and Breakthrough to the Middle Stage of Qi Refining Level 9.

On the sixth day of the competition, the atmosphere at the Martial Arts Field reached its peak.

This round would determine the top four.

The top seven competitors had already been decided.

There were Chen Yuanba and Liu Ruyan of the Jinyang Sect, Su Qianxue of the Qingxin Pavilion, Mo Han and Li Changsheng of the Qinglan Sword Sect, Yun Yifei of the Medicine King Valley, and Li Sha of the Blood Fiend Sect.

This battle would decide the top four.

The draw had been completed.

Li Changsheng stood in the waiting area, his gaze sweeping across the arenas in the other three directions.

On the eastern arena, Chen Yuanba of the Jinyang Sect was limbering up; his pitch-black iron sword had not yet been unsheathed, but it was already emitting a suffocating pressure.

On the western arena, Yun Yifei of the Medicine King Valley was chatting with someone beside him with a smile, as if he were not preparing for battle but just chatting. On the northern arena, Li Sha of the Blood Fiend Sect was sitting quietly, eyes closed to conserve energy; that pale face looked particularly eerie in the sunlight. However, he was also the lucky one today, as he had drawn a bye and advanced directly to the top four.

And the southern arena.

Li Changsheng withdrew his gaze and landed on the arena he was about to step onto.

There, a figure in white was already standing on the stage.

Qingxin Pavilion, Su Qianxue.

Late Stage of Qi Refining Level 9.

"Arena No. 4, Li Changsheng of the Qinglan Sword Sect versus Su Qianxue of the Qingxin Pavilion."

The voice of the deacon Disciple echoed over the Martial Arts Field.

"Please both parties take the stage!"

Li Changsheng took a deep breath and walked toward the arena with his sword.

Below the stage, countless gazes fell upon him.

There was anticipation, curiosity, schadenfreude, and also secret prayers.

"Go, Brother Changsheng!"

Shi Tiezhu's rough voice was exceptionally loud.

"Brother Changsheng is the best!"

Li Xiaocao waved her small fists.

Li Changqing did not speak, just stared tightly at his back, hands clenched into fists.

Li Changsheng leaped onto the arena.

Three zhang away, Su Qianxue stood there quietly.

She was dressed in white, like snow and clouds.

Her long, jet-black hair was simply tied up, with a few strands of dark hair hanging in front of her forehead, setting off that beautiful face to look even more elegant and otherworldly.

At her waist, the long sword remained sheathed; the scabbard was pure white, engraved with faint cloud patterns.

She stood there, yet she seemed to have merged into the entire arena.

She became the quietest scene in this bustling Martial Arts Field.

Below the stage, countless male cultivators stared with wide eyes.

"Su Qianxue of the Heart-Pure Sword... she really lives up to her reputation..."

"If I could get a smile from her, I would die content..."

"Stop dreaming; she is the Saintess of the Qingxin Pavilion. Is she someone you or I could even covet?"

Li Changsheng was not distracted by these voices.

He just gripped the green steel sword in his hand and focused, waiting.

Su Qianxue looked at him and suddenly smiled.

The smile was faint, but it was like a spring breeze blowing across a lake, leaving many people below the stage stunned.

"You are very interesting."

She said, her voice as clear and cold as a mountain spring.

"Cultivate is like planting a tree; I like this saying very much."

Li Changsheng did not speak.

Su Qianxue did not mind and continued.

"On the day of the discourse on the Dao, I was wondering what kind of person could say such things."

"Later, I watched you fight a few matches—Xu Sen, Zhou Yuan. Neither were weaklings."

She paused, a flash of brilliance crossing her eyes.

"You are stronger than I imagined."

Li Changsheng finally spoke.

"You flatter me, Miss Su."

Su Qianxue shook her head.

"It is not flattery. It is the truth."

She raised her hand and slowly drew the sword from her waist.

The blade was snow-white, as thin as a cicada's wing, reflecting a faint cold light in the sunlight.

That was a top-grade Magical Artifact, far better than Li Changsheng's green steel sword.

"Come on."

Su Qianxue looked at him and said.

"Let me see how deep your roots are planted."