Hearing that, Fang Kui's eyes instantly welled with tears. "Chen Xuan! I hate you!" she cried, turning to run away.
Xu Mu came up behind Chen Xuan, patted him on the shoulder, and said quietly, "Was that really the right thing to do?"
"It's better to end it quickly than drag it out. My heart already belongs to my senior sister. If I get too entangled with her, it'll only make things worse later," Chen Xuan replied, shaking his head. Then he gave Xu Mu a sincere look. "Still… impressive as always, Mu. Just a few words from you and the whole problem's solved."
"Not necessarily solved."
Xu Mu recalled how Fang Kui had fled—her reaction clearly came from deep feelings. A single conversation wasn't going to make her forget Chen Xuan.
The two of them returned to their spots. Up on the high platform, Jiang Sheng had finished his opening speech.
At the center stood a long table with four boxes placed atop it.
According to Jiang Sheng's rules, the first round would pit contestants from Box 1 against Box 2, and those from Box 3 against Box 4. Winners would advance, continuing until one final victor remained—the one to earn full points.
Wei Jingzhi stepped forward first, drawing a red sphere from Box 1, and another from Box 2.
He cracked them open and read aloud the names inside: "Lü Pinlong versus Wang Qizhi."
Immediately, both names appeared on the large screen behind him.
The audience began to murmur.
"No need to think about it—Lü Pinlong's going to win for sure."
"Exactly. There aren't many who can match him. I'm betting everything on him."
Seated at the center of the platform, an old man with a lean frame smiled. He was Lü Pinlong's grandfather, Lü Chuan.
"Now, now, don't flatter him too much," Lü Chuan said, chuckling modestly. "He only ranked tenth in the sanitation division by luck last time—there are still plenty just as strong."
He might have said that, but inside, he was brimming with pride.
Down below, Wang Qizhi—a wiry man with close-cropped hair—stepped into the open arena.
Lü Pinlong followed calmly, his gaze sharp. "Once fists fly, there's no mercy. You can still surrender now," he said coolly.
"Never!"
Wang Qizhi had come here with a mission. His sect was among the weakest. If he could marry Jiang Huihui, they'd gain access to a Heaven-Grade cultivation technique—and that would completely change their fate.
A loud gong echoed from the sound system.
The match had begun.
"Offense intended!" Wang Qizhi shouted and lunged forward.
Lü Pinlong didn't even bother to look directly at him. He raised one hand and swung.
A golden arc of light—a blade-like energy slash—shot forth and struck Wang Qizhi square in the chest.
Whoosh!
Wang Qizhi's body flew backward, sliding dozens of meters before collapsing, unconscious. His clothing was shredded, and a deep, bloody gash marked his chest.
No one looked particularly surprised. This was Lü Pinlong, after all—his strength was unquestionable.
"I told you—surrendering early saves you the pain. Admitting defeat to me isn't shameful," Lü Pinlong said arrogantly, turning to leave.
"Impressive," Wei Jingzhi remarked from his seat, nodding slightly.
Guo Wenmo laughed beside him. "Well, he is the tenth-ranked squad captain of the Sanitation Division. The ranking changes often, but even reaching tenth means he's top-tier."
Jiang Sheng looked down at Lü Pinlong but didn't comment.
He remembered how Jiang Huihui had once said she couldn't stand Lü Pinlong.
On the edge of the platform, Jiang Huihui clenched her fists tightly as she watched Lü Pinlong's smug expression.
Her mother, Zhou Shui, gently patted her hand. "Calm down. Everything happens as fate decides."
Then Guo Wenmo stepped up, drawing two blue spheres from Boxes 3 and 4.
He opened them and read aloud: "Liu Guang versus Xue Kaixuan."
The names appeared instantly on the big screen.
"Heh! It's my grandson's turn," chuckled an old man with a white beard, stroking it proudly.
He was none other than Xue Dongsheng, the Third Elder of the Lingxiao Sect.
"Old Xue, I'd say the winner's going to be one of two—your grandson or Lü Pinlong," said the elder seated beside him with a sigh.
Lü Chuan just smiled without speaking. To him, Xue Kaixuan wasn't even qualified to compete with his grandson.
"Regretting it, Old Zheng? Should've let your grandson join," Xue Dongsheng teased.
Zheng Hai nodded ruefully. Who could've guessed Jiang Sheng, that cunning old fox, would so freely offer a Heaven-Grade cultivation technique?
Had he known, he'd have sent his grandson to compete instead of a few random disciples.
But registration had closed the night before.
"Haha, well, my grandson truly likes Huihui," Xue Dongsheng said with a grin. "He insisted on coming himself."
"Hah! Seems my granddaughter is quite popular," Jiang Sheng chuckled.
In truth, if Xu Mu somehow won, he wouldn't mind. It would mean Huihui could marry the man she liked. But realistically, Xu Mu's chances were slim.
Even with Chen Xuan's help clearing a few strong opponents, Xu Mu would still have to face the real powerhouses eventually—and he wasn't strong enough to win.
A thunderous boom shook the arena—even those on the high platform felt it.
Xue Kaixuan had unleashed a blue blast of energy, sending his opponent flying with a single palm strike.
Another one-hit victory.
The crowd quickly caught on: anyone below the Mystic Art Realm stood no chance here.
Several more fights followed, but the spectators' enthusiasm waned. They wanted to see battles between true masters.
Then another instant defeat drew a brief stir.
Xu Mu glanced over—it was Zhao Gang of the Heavenly Sword Sect. His strength was respectable, but still far below the level of someone like Lü Pinlong.
Finally, Wei Jingzhi called the next match:
"Xu Mu versus Peng Wei."
Their names appeared on the massive screen.
At the sound of Xu Mu's name, Jiang Huihui immediately sat up straight, eyes locked on the arena below.
"Mu, it's your turn," Chen Xuan said with a grin.
Xu Mu nodded, one hand casually in his pocket, and walked toward the field.
The spectators buzzed with chatter.
"That kid's done for—of all opponents, he got Peng Wei."
"Yeah, if he's smart, he'll surrender right away."
Even the elders on the platform murmured similarly.
Lü Chuan smirked. "Peng Wei's from the Blade Mountain Sect. Their methods are notoriously dirty. That young man's in trouble."
"Don't worry," Wei Jingzhi said calmly, sipping from his thermos. "It's a festive occasion—we won't let things get too gruesome. If needed, I'll intervene."
"Haha! For that boy, having you step in would be an honor," Lü Chuan chuckled, glancing down at Xu Mu.
On the side, Jiang Huihui clenched her fists again, nervous.
"It's him," Lü Pinlong muttered when he saw Xu Mu, smiling coldly. Perfect. Let Peng Wei cripple him for me.
"Boy, it's not too late to surrender. When the Blade Mountain Sect strikes, our enemies don't walk away whole," Peng Wei sneered, twirling his short dagger.
He was thin and wiry, with a scar across his face.
"Why does he get to use a weapon?" Xu Mu suddenly shouted, pointing at him.
"You can too. I didn't say you couldn't," Peng Wei said coolly.
"Mu, catch!"
Chen Xuan reached into his woven bag and tossed Xu Mu a wood-cutting machete.