Chapter 32: A Single Move!

With a muffled thud, under the wide-eyed stares of the disciples of Qingyun Sect, Qi Hao’s body was sent flying from the arena, hanging in the air for a few seconds before crashing heavily onto the jade-paved ground.

A crisp clang followed as the Ice Sword fell to the floor, ringing out clear and sharp. A fine crack had appeared along the blade.

Qi Hao lay sprawled on the ground like a dead dog, blood pouring from his mouth. He could not move a single finger, his vision blurring as he glared with venomous hatred at the figure on the stage. Blood surged in his veins, and with a tilt of his head, he passed out cold.

As the crowd recovered from their shock, Daoist Cangsong’s face shifted drastically. In a flash, he leapt down from the stage and grasped Qi Hao’s wrist to check his condition.

His internal organs had shifted, but with a few months of healing, he could recover. Of greater concern was the Ice Sword on the ground; the crack was clearly visible, and if used again, it was likely to break.

“Damn, the master really didn’t hold back—he scrambled this guy’s meridians completely. Well, that’s what you get for provoking the master.” Daoist Cangsong muttered to himself as he checked Qi Hao’s pulse.

He frowned and said aloud, “The organs are displaced. It’ll take a long while to recover, and as for the weapon—if it’s used again, it’ll shatter.”

“Damn, I always knew this one was ruthless, but not to such an extent! And in front of everyone too?” The judge on the stage was inwardly startled.

The disciples surrounding the Qingyun Sect were seized by fear, surging like a tide to stand closer to the edges of the arena.

“One move… how vicious!”

This was everyone’s thought. In a single blow, Qian Mo had beaten Qi Hao—who was at the peak of the ninth level of the Jade Purity Realm—so badly that even a dog would look better. Everyone inhaled sharply, relieved they hadn’t provoked this harbinger of doom.

“Qian Mo, you have repeatedly violated the rules of Qingyun Sect. Even though you are my disciple, I cannot turn a blind eye. After the competition, you are to spend three months in meditation and reflection at the rear courtyard of the mountain. Cangsong, what do you think?” Dao Xuan announced with solemn authority, sounding every bit the upright leader, though inwardly he was quite pleased.

“Yes, Master!” Qian Mo replied seriously, though inside he was delighted, careful not to reveal his true emotions.

To others, however, it seemed absurd—was this a punishment? Why were their own mistakes punished so harshly, while his disciple’s were so lightly treated? Three months of meditation? It was more like a three-month holiday!

Daoist Cangsong pursed his lips. This was blatant favoritism! And yet he was being asked for his opinion? Fortunately, he was not the Cangsong of old—he wouldn’t dare object to his master now.

He cleared his throat. “Though this disciple injured many of my students, he did not endanger their lives. Besides, my own foolish disciples provoked him first and lost in fair combat. The punishment set by the Sect Head is acceptable. I agree. Furthermore, let no one in the sect speak of this matter again.” He glanced at the unconscious Qi Hao on the ground, then at Qian Mo, and finally addressed Dao Xuan.

“Naturally,” Dao Xuan replied, his eyes lighting up. “Rest assured, Brother Cangsong, this matter will not be mentioned again. Any violation will be dealt with according to the rules.”

The other elders fell silent, only grateful their own disciples hadn’t fared as badly. Since Cangsong and Dao Xuan had reached an agreement, there was nothing more to say. Their own disciples had provoked Qian Mo and been soundly defeated—they had only themselves to blame. None cared to dwell on whether Cangsong was acting differently from usual. When the senior members were silent, who among the lower disciples would dare speak? Seeing that further discussion was forbidden, everyone held their tongues, lest they be punished or, worse, incur Qian Mo’s wrath and be crippled by him.

“Announce the winner,” Cangsong said to the judge, lifting Qi Hao from the ground. He glanced at Qian Mo, his eyes flickering as if asking, “Master, how did I do?” Then he departed.

Who could have guessed that Cangsong was now but a subordinate of Qian Mo?

“This match—Qian Mo of Tongtian Peak is victorious!” the judge finally announced.

His voice roused the surrounding disciples, and a chorus of astonished exclamations broke out.

“Ow, that really hurt—I’m not dreaming, am I? Senior Brother Qi Hao actually lost.”

“Incredible—he’s taken out three disciples of Longshou Peak in three matches and only has to meditate for three months. Why can’t I get that kind of treatment?”

“Don’t kid yourself. Can you match Senior Brother Qian’s talent?”

“I just saw a crack in Senior Brother Qi Hao’s Ice Sword…”

“Hush! Didn’t you hear the Sect Head? We’re not to discuss this anymore,” one disciple quickly reminded.

“Oh, right.” The others fell silent at once.

The disciples of Longshou Peak, meanwhile, were silent and looked at Qian Mo with complicated emotions.

Cangsong, holding the battered Qi Hao, thought to himself, “Well, serves you right. If you hadn’t tried to show off in front of him, none of this would have happened.”

Turning to the disciples behind him, he ordered, “Let’s go—back to Longshou Peak to tend our wounds!”

After Cangsong left, Fatty Tian Buyi and Master Shuiyue also took their leave.

Once they were gone, Dao Xuan approached, a gentle smile lighting up his face. He clapped Qian Mo on the shoulder and said, “You rascal, even your master was fooled by you. The peak of Jade Purity’s ninth realm—what an honor you’ve brought me.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“There’s no need for thanks between master and disciple. But remember, though your cultivation is deep and I can protect you within Qingyun Sect, after the Seven Peaks Tournament you’ll be venturing out. You must be extremely cautious.”

“Understood…”

Qian Mo smiled and nodded. Though Dao Xuan’s cultivation was not as high as his own, he had taught him much and, judging by his protective actions earlier, Qian Mo had chosen his master well.

Half a day passed in a flash. As the sun set, dyeing the summit of Qingyun red, Qian Mo and the group from Bamboo Peak gathered at the west side of the Cloud Sea Plaza.

Today, Qian Mo’s match was the most watched and also the swiftest to end. After it was over, his group had waited at the west side for news of the Bamboo Peak disciples.

Song Daren and the others had also finished their matches, but they were covered in wounds and their eyes were downcast. Tian Buyi and Su Ru examined their injuries with furrowed brows, but did not ask the results—there was no need, for the outcome was clear.

Now, only Tian Ling’er and Zhang Xiaofan’s matches remained unfinished.

Tian Buyi and Su Ru were, as always, closely connected and looked somewhat anxious, but when they saw Tian Ling’er on the distant stage moving with such grace and holding her own, their hearts eased a little.

Tian Buyi glanced at his wife, noted her tense expression, and patted her shoulder. “Relax. Ling’er will be fine.”

Su Ru glanced at her husband, smiled faintly, and turned back to watch the stage.

Tian Buyi shook his head slightly. Compared to Qian Mo’s perilous bout that morning, his daughter’s match was far less dangerous—there was a vast difference between them.