Fairy, don't go! I have a mod.

Seeing Bai Lingyin take the lead, the disciples of Qingyun Sect couldn't just sit idly by, and a few scattered voices echoed in agreement.

"Keep it up, Senior Sister Yun."

"Don't disgrace our Qingyun Sect!"

But that was all there was to it.

The sounds were scattered and weak, like a handful of pebbles scattered into a lake, without even making a decent splash.

After those shouts, the seats of the Qingyun Sect quieted down again. Many disciples looked around, some lowered their heads to drink tea, and some pretended to be looking at other arenas.

Compared to the scene of serving tea and water and showering praise when Bai Lingyin won, it was as if they were two completely different sects.

Yun Qingyao stood on the stage, ignoring the perfunctory echoes behind her.

Her expression remained aloof and indifferent, her clothes fluttering slightly in the night breeze, her gaze calmly fixed on Nangong Yue opposite her.

Nangong Yue felt sorry for her. She crossed her arms, tilted her head to look at Yun Qingyao, and suddenly raised her voice.

"Yun Qingyao, why don't you join our Imperial Court?"

"If you want the position of the Six Doors, you can get the green light all the way."

These words immediately caused a stir in the audience of Emperor Hao's court.

The Six Doors is an elite institution directly under the Imperial Court, and those who can enter are all top-notch talents selected from among thousands.

The Third Prince extended an olive branch in front of so many sects and promised to give them the green light all the way; his sincerity was undeniable.

Yun Qingyao simply shook her head, her tone indifferent.

"Don't mention that, come on."

Nangong Yue did not try to persuade her any further.

With a flick of her arms, a flash of cold light appeared in her hands, and a long, silver-white spear materialized out of thin air in her palms.

The gun barrel was half a head taller than her, and the tip gleamed with a chilling light under the lights of the training ground.

Ever since she used Monk Yuantong's Bodhi Spear in the first-generation secret realm, she felt like she had opened a new door.

Swords are too light, knives are too short; only holding a long, hard weapon like this gives her an indescribable sense of security.

After returning, she specially sought out the best weapon refiner in the Imperial Court to forge this spear, using deep-sea cold iron!

"Watch out!" Nangong Yue shouted in a low voice, flicked the tip of her spear, and struck first.

Yun Qingyao smiled slightly and drew her sword with a backhand motion.

Her sword was entirely silver-white, with a slender blade. When it was drawn from its sheath, it produced a clear and melodious sword sound that lingered in the night sky for a long time.

The sword was engraved with fine cloud patterns, which appeared and disappeared under the light, complementing her white dress and making her look like a fairy under the moon.

Interestingly, her sword and Nangong Yue's spear were both the same silver-white color.

Two weapons faced each other from a distance on the arena.

Nangong Yue was the first to move.

With a flick of her wrist, the spear tip burst into seven silver blossoms, each one targeting a vital spot on Yun Qingyao.

Yun Qingyao neither dodged nor evaded, but instead slashed her longsword diagonally, the blade colliding with the spear tip seven times in mid-air.

The sparks that flew out formed an arc, casting their faces in a flickering light.

Then the two of them changed their moves at the same time.

Nangong Yue's spear technique shifted dramatically, each strike imbued with the domineering aura unique to the Imperial Court. The spear wind swept across the spiritual light barrier at the edge of the arena, causing the barrier to vibrate and hum.

Yun Qingyao's sword style was completely the opposite: light, graceful, and continuous.

The swordsmanship of the Qingyun Sect, when wielded by her, was utterly devoid of any frivolity, as if she were writing an invisible poem in the wind.

Sword energy and spear aura clashed and intertwined on the arena, sometimes exploding with thunderous roars, sometimes producing a series of fine, crisp sounds.

The two fought from the center of the ring to the edge, and then back to the center, their silver-white figures crisscrossing and soaring.

Various magical runes appeared as they collided, with blue light accompanying sword energy clashing against the violent force of the spear in Nangong Yue's hand.

Beautiful!

And it was so fast that the Foundation Establishment disciples watching from below couldn't even see the moves clearly; they could only see two afterimages, one white and one red, chasing each other in the air.

"This is probably the strongest sparring match of the day."

On the seats of Wanren Qianshan, a disciple in black couldn't help but whisper.

The senior student next to him, unusually, did not scold him, because he himself was also watching intently.

Monk Yuantong squeezed into the front row of the crowd, his eyes shining, and grabbed the sleeve of the rogue monk next to him and shook it vigorously.

"Xiao Huo, Xiao Huo, look! Aren't those two on stage amazing? Wow... look at that shot, tsk tsk..."

"We fought together in the secret realm!"

"But wasn't His Highness using a knife before...? How did it turn into a gun?"

Xiao Huo...

That was the rogue cultivator who was dragged all the way from the secret realm back to Nanshan Temple by Yuantong.

He tried to pull his sleeve out of Yuantong's hand with a blank expression.

I tried to pull it three times, but it wouldn't budge.

Yuantong's grip was as strong as an iron hoop, and he didn't even notice the man struggling, continuing his explanation with great enthusiasm.

"Look how beautifully Benefactor Yun's sword flourishes are! Let me tell you, back in our underground palace, Benefactor Yun's swordplay was truly magnificent..."

"Hey, don't go!"

Xiao Huo gave up struggling and closed his eyes.

He vowed that if the monk whispered "You are destined to be with Buddha" in his ear again, he would be punished.

He'll escape by climbing over the wall tonight.

Chapter 86 Earning spirit stones, it's not shameful.

Mu Tianmiao huddled in a corner seat, wearing a half-mask, but her eyes shone with an astonishing brightness.

He clenched his fists and then relaxed them, muttering to himself incessantly.

"Third Prince, please be gentle... Ouch, what if this spear really hits you hard...!"

"Yun Qingyao, don't take it so seriously. It's just a friendly spar, let's stop here when we've made our point..."

"Ouch, Your Highness, that was quite a blow! It looks painful..."

He was engrossed in reading when a fellow cultivator beside him couldn't resist turning his head to ask him a question...

"Brother, whose side are you really on? One minute you're taking this person's side, the next you're feeling sorry for that person. You have to have a stance, right?"

Mu Tianmiao turned her head, blinked her eyes behind the mask, and said confidently.

"Me? I'm worried about them. It would be terrible if these two beauties got hurt!"

The cultivator opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, but couldn't utter a single word.

At the summit of Welcoming Guest Peak, inside the pavilion.

In stark contrast to the bustling noise of the training grounds outside, the air here was heavy and seemed to have solidified.

Several cups of spiritual tea were placed on the long table made of spiritual wood, their aroma wafting through the air, but no one touched them.

The top figures from each faction sat on either side, their gazes clashing and exchanging in silence, a subtle undercurrent of tension.

Li Xizhao sat in the main seat, legs crossed, one hand casually resting on the armrest, his posture languid and composed.

Today she wore a moon-white long dress, covered with a layer of silver gauze as thin as a cicada's wing. Her black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, her eyebrows and eyes were like paintings, and a faint smile hung on her stunningly beautiful face.

There was absolutely no sign of tension or impending doom about her; she seemed more like someone sunbathing in their own backyard.

Sitting directly opposite her was Mu Kongyun, the sect leader of the Qingyun Sect.

This renowned Nascent Soul stage expert had an unfriendly expression, his sharp eyes fixed on Li Xizhao, his gaze filled with barely contained rage.

Since learning that his disciple Yun Qingyao had been defiled by the people of the Immortal Shadow Sect in the secret realm, he had not slept well for a single day.

To Mu Kongyun's left sat Chu Cheng, the master of Wanren Qianshan Mountain, dressed in black with a cold and stern face.

He remained silent after taking his seat, arms crossed, eyes closed, seemingly resting.

However, his aura did not diminish; the sharp sword intent of a Nascent Soul stage sword cultivator permeated the pavilion.

It subtly echoed Mu Kongyun's imposing aura, creating an invisible pressure.

On the right is Abbot Huiming of Nanshan Temple, a plump man with a kind face and a clean, starched robe.

He looked at the tense atmosphere in the room, chuckling as he twirled his prayer beads, as if watching an amusing play.

Next to him was Nangong Jing, the eldest prince of the Dihao Royal Court, dressed in a bright yellow brocade robe, with a heroic face and a polite smile on his lips.

He came today for no other reason than to support his third sister and, incidentally, to observe the undercurrents between the various sects.

The most surprising thing was that the people from the Hehuan Sect came.

The one who came from the Hehuan Sect this time was not Elder Liu, but the sect's Holy Maiden, Su Yunxiu.

She wore a long, light red dress, her face covered by a thin veil, revealing only a pair of smiling, watery eyes.

Her figure was graceful, and she exuded a faint fragrance that seemed out of place in the somber atmosphere of the room.

She was the most relaxed person on the field besides Li Xizhao, even a little too relaxed.

She was looking down and playing with her black hair, seemingly completely uninterested in the tense standoff between the various factions.

Li Xizhao looked around, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and broke the silence first.

"Gentlemen, we've been drinking tea here the whole time, isn't anyone going to say something?"

As soon as she finished speaking, Su Yunxiu, the Holy Maiden of the Hehuan Sect, chuckled and raised her beautiful, watery eyes to look directly at Li Xizhao.

"I have something to discuss with Sect Leader Li. Aren't you busy? If not, I'll go and talk to Sect Leader Li somewhere else first."

Her voice was soft and sweet, carrying an indescribable allure, which resonated in the somber attic, instantly easing the tense atmosphere.

It tasted good.

Chu Cheng opened his eyes.

He didn't look at Su Yunxiu, nor did he pay attention to Mu Kongyun's gloomy face. His gaze went directly over the long table and landed on Li Xizhao.

His voice was deep and brief, like a sword blade slicing through ice.

"Li Xizhao, I want to know, have you found the way?"

There was a moment of silence in the attic.

Li Xizhao paused slightly in the hand holding the teacup.

The languid smile on her face faded slightly. After a moment of silence, she slowly shook her head: "Completely clueless."

Chu Cheng looked at her, said nothing, and simply nodded.

Then he closed his eyes again, crossed his arms, as if that question had used up all his speaking quota for the day.

The conversation between the two was so short it was like a riddle, and most of the people present didn't understand it.

Only Mu Kongyun understood.

He stared at Li Xizhao for a moment, his anger not subsiding, but something else had appeared in the depths of his eyes.

It wasn't sympathy, but rather a somber feeling of shared misfortune.

It's normal that the Buddhist community and the Hehuan sect were completely unaware of this.

Even the most accomplished Master Huiming was only at the peak of the Divine Transformation stage, still a step away from the Divine Transformation stage.

The Hehuan Sect doesn't even have a Nascent Soul stage cultivator; Su Yunxiu is only able to sit here because of the Hehuan Sect's reputation.

Rather than one's own cultivation.

The secrets beyond the Nascent Soul stage are ultimately too distant for them.

Su Yunxiu silently memorized the conversation, but showed no sign of it on her face. She turned to Li Xizhao with a smile.