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Chapter 118: Narrow victory

"I never liked to bother with petty people," Qing Feng said, tapping the sword hilt with his knuckles, the black iron scabbard emitting a clear, ringing sound. "But if they act like those clowns from Dragon Yang Peak, I might have to let him stay in the Cold Pond for a while."

Yun Qingrao's wide sleeves billowed in the wind, and her fingertips formed a sound transmission seal: "While I am at the Beast Taming Sect, I will naturally restrain my Disciples. After the Heavenly Secret Pavilion's grand event."

"Three years," Qing Feng suddenly laughed, shaking off the accumulated snow from the branches. "Believe it or not, you probably won't be able to leave the Beast Taming Sect's mountain gate in these three years."

"What? Is your Sect going to detain a guest elder?" Yun Qingrao's surrounding Qi condensation suddenly solidified.

"If those old fellows from the Dao Sect come to demand someone..." Qing Feng leaned against the bluestone, casually breaking off a dead branch to draw in the snow. "How can the sword intent inheritance of a Heaven-grade magical treasure be comprehended overnight?"

Yun Qingrao's eyes flickered slightly: "Without the sect's own cultivation method, after all..."

"Who said one really needs to cultivate?" The dead branch drew abstruse trajectories in the snow. "If a sword fanatic encounters a rare sword intent, wouldn't it be an insult to the name of a sword cultivator not to go into seclusion for three to five years to comprehend it? If the Dao Sect asks, just say we are appreciating the Way of the Sword. How much of that do you believe?"

"So that's how you calculated it," Yun Qingrao said, her fingertips twirling an ice silkworm silk ribbon, then she chuckled softly. "It seems I'll have to borrow a few sword manuals from your Sect's Scripture Pavilion."

"Why bother?" Qing Feng tossed the dead branch up and caught it steadily. "Go to the Northern Border Battlefield, and there will be plenty of sword fanatics rushing to discuss the Dao with you."

The Cold Pond reflected Yun Qingrao's proud figure: "Rarely do Spirit Transformation cultivators appear in the present age, and most Tribulation Transcending experts live in seclusion. This Nine Provinces and Four Seas..."

The ice silkworm silk ribbon suddenly soared like a swimming dragon, leaving a three-foot deep trench in the snow. "The cage that can trap me has not yet been forged."

"Are you in a hurry to find that opportunity in the East Sea?" Qing Feng suddenly became serious, pointing the dead branch directly to the east. The morning glow dyed the sky red, and the sound of the tide, like a dragon's roar, faintly echoed.

Yun Qingrao's eyes flickered slightly, and her fingertips unconsciously caressed the sword hilt: "Where did you deduce all this from?"

"I haven't inquired about your background, but a half-human, half-dragon bloodline certainly doesn't come out of nowhere."

Qing Feng leaned against the bluestone, casually breaking off a blade of grass and putting it in his mouth. "Your Gaffe when you saw the dragon pattern in the tomb, and that dark box carved with the Yinglong totem, your sword intent was more violent than usual by more than thirty percent."

Yun Qingrao silently lowered her gaze, the moonlight casting fragmented shadows beneath her raven-feather eyelashes. After a long while, the crisp sound of her waist jade pendant clashing with her sword tassel replaced her answer.

"If you really have to make a move, remember to send a paper crane to Tianshu Peak," Qing Feng suddenly sat up, the grass blade spinning into afterimages between his fingers. "Even if I'm in seclusion then, even if I have to overturn the East Sea Dragon Palace, it's still more interesting than dealing with those two old stubborn Dragon Emperors."

"Good," Yun Qingrao responded decisively this time. As her dark skirt was lifted by the night wind, she was already standing on a pine branch three zhang away. "Tomorrow, at Chen Shi, Zhijian Peak."

Qing Feng laughed upon hearing this, the grass blade in his fingers suddenly stiffening like a sword: "Are we going to have to ask Senior Sister Zisu to prepare Heart Nourishing Pills in advance? Let me say this first, our Beast Taming Sect's nine forms of 'Stars Hanging Over the Plains' specialize in breaking through protective Qi, and that Heavenly Silkworm Snow Gauze Robe of yours."

Before he finished speaking, Yun Qingrao pointed her fingers like a sword and slashed through the air, and the ten-zhang pine waves rolled back in response. Qing Feng dodged the sword Qi, but saw that the pine needles on the ground had actually formed a powerful character for "war."

"Oh, right," Yun Qingrao floated away on the scent of pine, her voice mixing with the night wind. "During the Ziyan Sword Debate, which identity do you plan to use to go on stage?"

Qing Feng dusted off the pine needles clinging to his clothes, and a bronze token suddenly lit up in his palm.

With a clang, as the token fell to the ground, four seal characters, "Foundation Establishment Sixth Layer," appeared, emitting a faint green light under the moonlight.

Yun Qingrao's figure paused slightly, and when she looked back, her usually clear and cold eyes were rarely tinged with astonishment.

She looked at Qing Feng, who was squatting on the ground picking up the token, and suddenly remembered that three days ago, deep within the tomb, this person had broken through an ancient restriction with Spirit Transformation cultivation, and he had been just as nonchalant then.

"Those old pedants from the Dao Sect!" Qing Feng rubbed the patterns on the token, smiling like a fox who had stolen a chicken:

"They can find thirty-seven flaws in me in the Scripture Pavilion, and they can find three hundred corroborating pieces of evidence in the 'Records of the Nine Provinces' Anomalies.' As for that verification formation."

He suddenly formed a sword with his fingers and outlined it in the void, golden spiritual energy flowing into a complex formation diagram: "The formation patterns personally drawn by Celestial Void Daoist, changing three formation eyes makes it a touchstone for cultivation.

As long as one's cultivation exceeds that of the two Daoists, one can open the passage to the extreme of heaven and earth. How reasonable a setting is that?"

Yun Qingrao gazed at the gradually dissipating formation patterns, then suddenly flicked a sword Qi with her finger.

Qing Feng hastily brought his palm to meet it, and the exploding spiritual energy startled all the sleeping birds on the mountain into flight.

"Tomorrow, an additional match," Yun Qingrao sheathed her sword, a faint smile gracing her lips. "Use your true Foundation Establishment cultivation."

Yun Qingrao's usually clear and cold face suddenly showed a momentary trance, and a hint of natural innocence appeared between her brows.

Qing Feng was so startled by this sudden contrast that his breathing hitched, and it took him a while to find his voice again:

"Our Beast Taming Sect has many talented people; it's probably as hard as ascending to the heavens to get a good ranking. And there's also that one from Hu Ji Peak; we originally agreed on a three-year period, but the Sword Debate was postponed, dragging it out to six years."

The scene of competing for the Thousand Lake World quota flashed before his eyes.

After Zhao Yu was defeated by him in three moves on the competition stage, it was said that he packed his bags overnight and went to the Northern Border Battlefield.

Qi Lin once brought news that the man was now being tempered in blood and fire, coming specifically to avenge his shame.

Six years are enough to turn oceans into mulberry fields; who can predict the outcome?

The jade-like beauty suddenly regained her indifferent expression and turned to walk towards the viewing platform. She finally confirmed that a certain person's shamelessness far exceeded expectations, and staying even half a moment longer was a test of her Dao Heart.

"Zhao Leng has fallen?"

On the peak of Purple Rock, sword Qi soared like a rainbow, and the Disciples of the seven pulse, led by their Masters, flew through the air on their swords.

Qing Feng, riding a spirit dog, was mixed in with the Chen Ming Peak team, calculating how to "narrowly win" in the Foundation Establishment group competition, and incidentally settle his old grievances with Zhao Leng.

Who would have thought he would hear such news?

"He fell in the Northern Border Battlefield three years ago," Qin Yue said, casually tidying her sword tassel. "I heard he was greedy for merit and advanced recklessly; to forcefully break through his cultivation, he charged into the beast horde alone and never returned."

Qing Feng rubbed the jade token at his waist, lost in thought. He had thought he would be a fated opponent for a destined duel, but he hadn't even had the chance for a formal confrontation.

Fate truly is the most unpredictable chess player, erasing all plans with a single move.

"Are even direct Disciples so fragile?"

"Even Second Brother, under Master's seat, has fallen in the outer realms, let alone a Disciple of an ordinary elder?" The female sword cultivator suddenly pressed on his shoulder, "Remember, when you get to the Northern Border, you must stick close to me."

Qing Feng smiled, his eyes curving, and responded, but in his heart, he was deducing the rules of the battlefield. Senior Sister always liked to break through limits between life and death; with such a risky style, he had to find a way to change this deadly rule.

The bell of the Sword Testing Platform suddenly rang, and the jade tokens of Chen Ming Peak's direct Disciples glowed under the morning sun.

As several streaks of rainbow light swept across the sky, Men Shao suddenly pressed the sword hilt at his waist: "It's time to quiet down, a group of people are coming from the west."

Qing Feng looked in the direction indicated by his Senior Brother, and Hu Ji Peak's distinctive vermilion sword light was particularly striking.

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