Fu Yan had already come down from the second floor of the Martial Skills Pavilion. Naturally, she had no idea she’d become the subject of other people’s bets. Holding the cultivation method she’d chosen, she went straight to the supervising elder to register it, then soon strolled unhurriedly back to her little wooden hut.
There wasn’t much time left before the inner sect ranking tournament. Fu Yan definitely needed to raise her strength as quickly as possible.
She remembered that before long, it would also be time for the grand tri-yearly competition between all the sects of the Minbei Domain. Only those who ranked in the top ten in the inner sect would have the chance to participate in that major sect gathering.
Fu Yan absolutely did not intend to miss it. On the path of cultivation, frequent combat and exchanges were necessary to truly sharpen one’s strength.
Back in her wooden hut, Fu Yan didn’t dare idle any longer. She quickly ran through the Frost Tempering Body Art in her mind once again. She could clearly feel that thanks to this body-refining technique, her physique was becoming better and better.
At this point, even without using a trace of true essence, she could shatter this entire little hut with a single palm strike—an easy feat.
She had only just barely stepped into the introductory level of this art, yet she could already guess that the body movement hidden within the Linglong Broken Sword was at least a third-grade martial technique, if not higher. If that got out, who knew how many people or sects would be green with envy.
After finishing her body refinement, Fu Yan first pulled out the technique she had just brought back, Wind Shadow Step, planning to learn lightfootwork first.
Wind Shadow Step: following the wind, leaving no shadow. At minor success, one step could cover over a hundred meters. At great success, one’s figure would become ghostly, vanishing without a trace.
Reading the introduction, Fu Yan couldn’t help feeling tempted. She impatiently began flipping through it. Wind Shadow Step was fairly simple on the surface, with only two main points: circulating qi and adjusting breathing, and blending into the wind.
When cultivating, one had to sense the wind’s speed and flow, letting the human figure quickly merge into the wind, drifting with it, leaving no trace of form. Put simply, one had to treat oneself as a gust of wind too—here one instant, gone the next—so fast it was almost like teleportation.
It sounded simple, but it wasn’t nearly so easy to practice. Still, Fu Yan had no intention of giving up. She soon went out into the courtyard, circulating her breathing while feeling the natural wind around her.
She focused all her attention and began her first day of cultivation.
Cultivation time flew by in a blink. Before she knew it, the whole morning had passed in a rush. After practicing Wind Shadow Step over and over, Fu Yan in the courtyard finally stopped. She casually wiped the sweat from her forehead and, as she sat to rest for a moment, took out Illusory Void Sword.
Illusory Void Sword consisted of three forms: Phantom Shadow, Phantom Form, and Voidless. It was a very peculiar sword art and realm of sword intent. Fu Yan read it through twice, back and forth, yet it still felt obscure and difficult to grasp.
“Forget it. I’ll focus on fully mastering the first form first. The rest will have to wait and be taken slowly.”
Fu Yan shook her head helplessly, feeling she was being too greedy and impatient. It was better to carefully study the first form.
Soon, she drew out her Linglong Broken Sword and began to cultivate the first form of Illusory Void Sword—Phantom Shadow.
Ever since she had left the Crimson-Black Mountain Range, Fu Yan had given up on the idea of forging or buying a new sword. Although Linglong was a broken sword, it was still extraordinary, so there was no need.
After using it several times, Fu Yan felt that this Linglong Broken Sword was actually very well suited to her hand.
Phantom Shadow: sword light like illusion and shadow. Fu Yan gripped the Linglong Broken Sword, leaped up, twisted in midair, and swung her sword in rapid succession, leaving behind streak after streak of sword shadows in the air.
As the sky gradually darkened, Fu Yan finally stopped after a full day of training. She ate a simple meal, then returned to her room to sit in meditation and began cultivating Pure Essence Art, refining more and purer true essence for herself.
For three days in a row, Fu Yan spent her mornings on Wind Shadow Step, her afternoons on Illusory Void Sword, and her nights refining her true essence—without a hint of slackening.
Until that afternoon.
Fu Yan was gripping the Linglong Broken Sword, ready to continue practicing her sword art, when a youthful figure suddenly charged into her little wooden hut like a storm.
“You’re Fu Yan?”
The newcomer was a girl about the same age as Fu Yan, dressed in a teal long robe. She came in brimming with undisguised anger, fixing Fu Yan in the courtyard with a glare as she demanded her question.
Fu Yan was taken aback. The girl before her was completely unfamiliar; she was certain she didn’t know her.
“I’m Fu Yan. And you are?”
Fu Yan sheathed her sword and lifted her eyes to look at her.
“Heh, still pretending to be stupid? You’ve only been in the inner sect a few days and instead of focusing on cultivation, all you think about is seducing men. Have you no shame?”
The girl’s face was still full of fury. The way she stared at Fu Yan looked as if she wanted to devour her alive.
Fu Yan’s brows knitted together. She considered herself fairly even-tempered, but that didn’t mean she could tolerate someone barging in and insulting her for no reason.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’m telling you, the person Senior Brother Zhou likes is me, the one he’s pursuing is also me, Qin Xinrui. Stop dreaming beyond your station.”
Qin Xinrui seemed completely blinded by anger, utterly incapable of calm conversation.
Fu Yan paused, needing a moment to even figure out which Senior Brother Zhou she was talking about.
But she quickly understood, because a figure rushed in right behind Qin Xinrui. Fu Yan recognized him at once—it was Zhou Zhenlie, the man she’d met yesterday in the Martial Skills Pavilion.
As soon as Zhou Zhenlie entered and saw the two girls standing opposed in the courtyard, he hurried over in a fluster. Slightly out of breath, he first spoke to Qin Xinrui.
“Junior Sister Xinrui, how could you just barge into someone else’s courtyard on your own?”
Then, as if only just now noticing Fu Yan, he quickly turned to her with a smile.
“Sorry, Junior Sister Fu, this is all a misunderstanding. Things between me and Junior Sister Xinrui aren’t what you think.”
Those words were no doubt adding fuel to the fire.
Sure enough, the next instant Qin Xinrui completely exploded. She whipped out her sword and pointed it straight at Fu Yan, shouting in fury,
“Fu Yan, do you dare accept my challenge?!”
Fu Yan gave the two of them a measuring look, more amused than anything. She wasn’t really a naïve sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl; she understood perfectly what was going on.
At the side, Zhou Zhenlie seemed startled by Qin Xinrui’s sudden move. He quickly said to Fu Yan,
“Junior Sister Fu, don’t be impulsive. Junior Sister Xinrui just misunderstood for a moment, she didn’t mean anything else. Her rank is six hundred and forty-three—you absolutely mustn’t agree.”
According to the inner sect’s ranking rules, Fu Yan couldn’t challenge an opponent ranked more than thirty places above her. But that didn’t mean others couldn’t challenge her from above.
Looking at Zhou Zhenlie, who seemed so anxious on her behalf, Fu Yan’s gaze turned a few shades colder. She’d seen plenty of men like this—men who liked to watch women fight over them to puff up their own vanity. Right now, he was probably secretly hoping she would accept.
Zhou Zhenlie’s cultivation was at mid-stage Aperture Opening. His rank was one hundred and eighteen, but Fu Yan wasn’t afraid in the least. After all, she had already sent one mid-stage Aperture Opening cultivator to his grave.
With that thought, Fu Yan suddenly smiled. She turned to Qin Xinrui and said,
“Challenge me?”
“That’s right. Do you dare?”
Qin Xinrui’s voice was still thick with anger.
“I accept.”
