A max-level player in Jade Dynasty: Awakening the Innate Dao at the start.

As dawn broke through the clouds, on the plaza of Tongtian Peak,

It was already packed with people, at least several thousand disciples.

The buzzing of voices was like a swarm of cicadas in summer, so loud it hurt your ears.

Everyone's eyes were fixed on the same place—the jagged break in the Rainbow Bridge.

Two pitiful sections of the broken bridge hang precariously above the rolling sea of ​​clouds, their fractures jagged and uneven.

You can also see many fragments of bluestone floating in the pool below.

"What exactly happened last night? Why was there such a commotion?"

"They say the Spirit Lord has gone mad."

"It's more than just going mad! Look at that broken bridge!"

How much force must have been used to break it? How insane must the Spirit Lord have gone?

"What's even more bizarre is that I heard someone cut a huge gash in the Spirit Lord's neck, so deep you could see the bone! Who has that kind of ability?"

There are all sorts of guesses.

Those who said the flood would wash it away were immediately laughed at for being ignorant.

Some people said that the Spirit Lord went mad and crashed into the mountain, but others immediately refuted this—the Spirit Lord has been guarding Qingyun Mountain for a thousand years, when has he ever gone mad like this?

Gradually, one argument began to gain traction:

Last night, a mysterious expert appeared out of nowhere.

He fought with the Spirit Lord, even sending him flying and accidentally breaking the Rainbow Bridge in the process.

That expert is at least at the peak of the Upper Clarity Realm, and might even be...

They have already reached the threshold of the legendary Taiqing Realm.

Upon hearing this conclusion, a collective gasp of astonishment rippled through the crowd.

Peak of Shangqing? In the entire Qingyun Sect, only the heads of each branch can barely reach that level.

Taiqing? That's a realm from mythology!

Zhang Xiaofan mingled in the crowd, listening to these detailed speculations without showing any extra emotion on his face.

Tian Ling'er leaned close to his ear, her warm breath tickling his ear:

"What kind of expression do you think they'd have if they knew you did it?"

Nobody will believe that.

Zhang Xiaofan replied in a low voice, "Just like Master said, no one would believe that Master's wife would take my surname."

Tian Ling'er's eyes curved into crescent moons: "Seriously, are you really at the ninth level of the Jade Purity Realm?"

"Genuine or genuine."

"Then how did you manage to hurt the Spirit Lord?"

"It was careless."

Zhang Xiaofan made it up on the spot.

"He has thin skin on his neck and looks down on people, so I took advantage of his vulnerability and gave him a good beating."

"Now that it's on guard, I'm out of luck."

Tian Ling'er stared at him for a while, then suddenly reached out and pinched his arm: "You're kidding me!"

Zhang Xiaofan just smiled and didn't explain.

The deep voice of Master Zeng Shuchang echoed from the arena, drowning out the noise from below:

"In the third round, Zhang Xiaofan from Dazhu Peak will face Chu Yuhong from Chaoyang Peak."

The crowd parted to form a path.

Zhang Xiaofan stepped onto the arena, the spirit sword given to him by Tian Ling'er hanging at his waist.

The scabbard was plain, except for a small piece of pale blue spirit stone inlaid at the hilt, which gleamed with a warm luster in the morning light.

He had just stood firmly on the ring when the audience fell into an eerie silence for a moment.

The silence wasn't directed at him.

Everyone's eyes instinctively turned to the extra figure that had appeared at the edge of the arena.

Lu Xueqi has arrived, her robe a pale white, her demeanor as aloof as frost and snow.

She stood at the very front of Xiaozhufeng's team, her gaze calmly fixed on the arena.

This action itself is like throwing a large stone into a calm lake.

Everyone knows that Lu Xueqi never watches matches, but today she made an exception.

"Junior Sister Lu... are you here to see Chu Yuhong?"

"Does Chu Yuhong have that kind of influence? He must be here to see Zhang Xiaofan."

"But didn't Zhang Xiaofan suffer a qi deviation and lose all his cultivation? What's there to see?"

Low murmurs rose and fell.

Tian Ling'er's eyes darted around, and she squeezed past Zhang Xiaofan.

He sidled up to Lu Xueqi and affectionately took her arm.

"Senior Sister Xueqi, you've come to see Xiaofan?" Tian Ling'er asked, blinking her eyes.

Lu Xueqi turned her head to look at her, her cool eyes showing no emotion, and her voice was indifferent:

"He's amazing. I want to see just how amazing he is."

"sharp?"

Tian Ling'er blinked again, "Senior Sister, what's the trick?"

"Swordsmanship." Lu Xueqi's gaze returned to the arena, landing on the sword at Zhang Xiaofan's waist.

It seemed as if she hadn't meant to glance at the inconspicuous black stick at his waist.

"Or rather, his fundamental 'law'."

The staff at his waist was his true weapon, but today he used a sword.

I want to see how skilled he is at swordsmanship, so I'll have a better idea of ​​what to expect if we ever face off.

She spoke frankly and naturally, as if discussing the nice weather today.

As Tian Ling'er listened, the hand holding her arm unconsciously swayed slightly.

My palm accidentally brushed against a soft and full curve, and my movement suddenly stopped.

...What an exaggerated silhouette.

The thought popped into my head uncontrollably.

Tian Ling'er subconsciously glanced down at her chest.

He glanced quickly at Lu Xueqi's still breathtaking curves beneath her moon-white Taoist robe.

He silently loosened his grip, and his voice became softer:

"Does your senior also feel...pressure?"

"Pressure?" Lu Xueqi's lips curled up very slightly.

The curve was almost invisible, yet it instantly brought a touch of liveliness to her usually aloof face. "It's anticipation."

On the arena, Chu Yuhong had already taken his position.

This was a man around thirty years old, a disciple of Chaoyang Peak.

He made it into the top 32 of the previous Seven Veins Tournament, and his strength is firmly at the eighth level of the Jade Purity Realm.

He looked at Zhang Xiaofan across from him, a hint of undisguised contempt flashing across his eyes.

He suffered a qi deviation, and his cultivation was completely destroyed. Who in the entire Qingyun Sect doesn't know this?

Although Tian Ling'er defeated Shen Tiandou yesterday, it was because Tian Ling'er was skilled, and it had nothing to do with this "crippled" Zhang Xiaofan.

"Junior Brother Zhang," Chu Yuhong clasped his hands in a respectful gesture, "please."

Zhang Xiaofan returned the greeting, gently placing his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"I'll let you make the first move."

Chu Yuhong added another sentence, his tone carrying the usual "tolerance" a senior would show to a junior.

"So that others won't say I'm bullying you later."

A few knowing chuckles rippled through the audience.

Zhang Xiaofan looked at him and suddenly laughed: "Once I make a move, Senior Brother Chu, you won't have a chance to make a move."

Chu Yuhong's face darkened, and he immediately dropped his feigned politeness.

He said no more, made a sword gesture with his right hand, and the immortal sword at his waist flew out of its sheath with a "clang".

The sword shone with a brilliant blue light, and in mid-air, it transformed into three solid sword shadows.

Separate Zhang Xiaofan's upper, middle, and lower routes!

This move, "Three-Part Sword Shadow," is the signature technique of Chaoyang Peak. The three sword shadows are both real and illusory, making it extremely difficult to distinguish between them.

The disciples of Chaoyang Peak cheered, feeling that Senior Brother Chu had given this "useless junior brother" enough face by using his ultimate move right from the start.

Zhang Xiaofan didn't move.

He stood there, watching the three sharp sword shadows whistling as they approached.

He didn't move until the chilling tip of the sword was less than three feet from his body.

He raised his hand and drew his sword.

The movements are very slow.

So slow that the thousands of people in the audience could clearly see every subtle movement of him drawing his sword:

Pushing open the guard with his thumb, gripping the hilt with his index and middle fingers, and with a gentle flick of his wrist, the sword slowly emerges from its sheath—one inch, two inches, three inches…

Then, a flash of blue light appeared.

It really was just a fleeting moment.

It was as fast as a shooting star streaking across the night sky, so fleeting that one almost thought it was their own illusion.

But after that lightning-fast flash—

"Pfft, pfft, pfft!"

Chu Yuhong's three imposing sword shadows shattered simultaneously, turning into countless cyan light spots that dissipated into the air.

The real immortal sword in his hand let out a crisp sound as it could no longer bear the weight.

With a "crack," it broke cleanly in two from the middle!

The front half of the sword spun and flew into the air.

Finally, with a "ding," it landed diagonally in the bluestone ground at the edge of the arena.

The latter half remained in his hand, and the terrifying recoil from the hilt caused his hand to split open instantly, bleeding profusely.

Chu Yuhong felt as if he had been struck head-on by an invisible behemoth, and was sent flying backward without any resistance.

It drew a messy arc in the air and crashed heavily onto the bluestone ground ten feet away with a "bang".

It bounced up briefly after landing, and then fell back down.

The person was no longer moving; they had fainted.

The entire room fell silent.

Thousands of eyes were now fixed on the arena.

It was pinned to the black-clad youth who was still in the posture of finishing his sword swing.

The sword in his hand looked ordinary; the blue light on its blade had long since faded.

It was so plain that it looked no different from ordinary iron freshly forged in a blacksmith's shop.

But this "ordinary iron" weapon was used in just one sword strike.

With a single sword strike, he shattered the renowned martial art of Chaoyang Peak.

With a single sword strike, he severed his opponent's personal immortal sword.

With a single sword strike, a master at the eighth level of the Jade Purity Realm was sent flying more than ten feet away, unconscious.

Du Bishu rubbed his hands vigorously in the audience, his eyes shining as if he had seen a magic stone.

He just secretly opened a betting pool, and everyone bet on Chu Yuhong to win, but he was the only one who secretly bet on Zhang Xiaofan.

With odds of 1 to 10, we're going to make a fortune!

Song Daren's mouth was so wide open it could fit an egg, and he couldn't close it for a long time.

He Dazhi pushed up his glasses, his eyes behind the lenses filled with confusion and bewilderment.

Lu Daxin scratched his head sheepishly and muttered, "Xiao Fan...didn't he suffer a qi deviation?"

No one could answer him.

Lu Xueqi stared quietly at the arena, a sharp glint flashing in her clear, cold eyes.

"I can do that too."

She said softly, as if talking to herself, or perhaps to Tian Ling'er beside her, "But he... didn't use his full strength."

Tian Ling'er turned her head and looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"At least, that stick wasn't pulled out."

Lu Xueqi's gaze fell on the inconspicuous, dark fire poker at Zhang Xiaofan's waist.

His eyes were full of curiosity. "I want to see just how powerful that stick really is."

She paused, and for the first time, a different kind of warmth appeared in her usually cool voice.

It wasn't warmth; it was more like a burning, pure fighting spirit, so intense it could almost scorch.

"I hope you can pull it out when we fight."

Zhang Xiaofan on the stage seemed to sense something and suddenly turned his head to look in their direction.

His gaze first swept over Tian Ling'er, and finally settled on Lu Xueqi's elegant face.

The two stood a distance apart, their eyes meeting silently.

His gaze was calm and profound, like a still, deep well.

One gaze was clear and cold, like ice crystals reflecting the sun.

But in that silent eye contact, the surrounding air seemed to freeze for a moment, and invisible sparks flew in the silence.

Zhang Xiaofan looked at her and suddenly chuckled softly.

He sheathed his sword with fluid and natural movements.

Then he turned around and walked off the ring.

His composed demeanor made it seem as if he hadn't just sent a powerful enemy flying with a single sword strike, but had merely dusted off his robes.

The crowd below the stage instinctively parted to make way for him.

The gazes that fell upon him had completely changed their meaning—

From initial disdain and mockery, to shock and doubt, and now to barely concealed awe and apprehension.

Several disciples who had previously joined in the mockery and ridicule of him now wished they could bury their heads in their chests, afraid of being noticed by him.

Zhang Xiaofan didn't look at anyone.

He walked straight up to Tian Ling'er and handed the spirit sword back to her.

"Thank you for the sword, Senior Sister."

Tian Ling'er took the sword, her fingertips inadvertently touching his palm, her cheeks flushing slightly.

She glanced at Lu Xueqi beside her, who remained as aloof and ethereal as ever, and for some reason...

A strange emotion welled up inside her, and suddenly she raised her delicate chin and spoke in a clear, crisp voice:

"Senior Sister Xueqi said she hopes you can pull out your stick when you fight her."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Xiaofan turned his head again to look at Lu Xueqi.

Lu Xueqi was also looking at him. His moon-white Taoist robe fluttered gently in the morning breeze.

Her ink-black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, and her eyes shone like cold stars.

She stood there, aloof and cold, like a snow lotus blooming alone on a snow-covered mountain peak.

Yet the undisguised, burning fighting spirit in his eyes seemed capable of melting even the thickest ice and snow.

"Okay." Zhang Xiaofan looked at her and replied with only one word.

Lu Xueqi nodded slightly, said no more, and turned to leave.

That pale figure weaved through the dense crowd, leaving a trail of light in its wake.

The disciples parted to the sides like a tide, making way for each other.

Tian Ling'er watched Lu Xueqi's retreating figure, then glanced at Zhang Xiaofan beside her, whose expression remained calm.

Suddenly, she leaned close to his ear and whispered something in a voice only the two of them could hear:

"I think I understand now... why you 'pre-selected' her."

Zhang Xiaofan turned his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Because..." Tian Ling'er's voice was very soft, as soft as a sigh.

"When she looks at you, there's a light in her eyes..."

After saying that, she seemed a little embarrassed and turned to run away.

The red dress left a fiery trail in the rising morning light, disappearing into the bustling crowd in the blink of an eye.

Zhang Xiaofan stood still, looking in the direction where the red figure disappeared, and then looking in the direction where Lu Xueqi left.

Finally, he raised his head and looked towards the high viewing platform in the distance.

There, Dao Xuan Zhenren looked down, his gaze as deep as an ancient well, calm and still, yet seemingly able to see through everything.

Zhang Xiaofan remained calm and respectfully bowed towards the viewing platform.

Then, he turned and walked steadily into the crowd, whose shock had not yet completely subsided.