Feng Jian Takes Control
"Zhang Lingxiao and Li Tianshuo signed a life-and-death contract and went to the arena themselves that's within the sect's rules! But you, ambushing Zhang Lingxiao like this, that's a direct violation. Do you really think you'll walk away clean even if you succeed?" Ouyang Shishi argued, refusing to back down.
If she could just talk Xing Hu down, everyone would walk away from this fine. That was the hope, at least.
The Realm gap between them was too wide to close by force; she stood no chance against him directly. And for all his faults, Xing Hu genuinely looked after his own. Spiritual Martial Realm Perfection, and one of the pillars holding up Qingyun Mountain. Reasoning with him wasn't impossible.
"Enough, Shishi! No matter what it costs me, I'm killing him today, and I'll sleep just fine after," Xing Hu roared.
In his mind, the sect wouldn't come down hard on him for this, not once Zhang Lingxiao was dead. His father held the seat of Law Enforcement Elder, and he himself led the Sky Tiger Gang, one of the true powers among Qingyun Mountain's disciples. His standing here was untouchable.
Keep cultivating, keep growing the gang, keep swallowing up the smaller factions one by one, and the seat of the Sect Master's successor would eventually fall into his hands. It was only a matter of time.
"No talking you out of this, I see. Fine, come on, then." Ouyang Shishi's voice rang out, sharp and strangely magnetic even now. "If you want Zhang Lingxiao, you'll have to go through me first."
Beside her, still deep in his comprehension of Sword Intent, Zhang Lingxiao's mouth curved into a faint, unreadable smile.
This little girl. Even after losing to me and owing me a month as my maid, she doesn't need to throw herself in front of blades for me.
In truth, he'd already worked through most of the Sword Intent he'd grasped, right around the moment Xing Hu stepped onto the stage. He was on the verge of rising to answer the threat himself when Ouyang Shishi beat him to it, throwing herself forward without hesitation. That bought him the room to keep working through what was left of the insight.
An opening like this didn't come twice. Better to milk it while he could.
"Boom!"
Xing Hu abandoned all restraint and charged straight at Zhang Lingxiao, Ouyang Shishi standing in the way.
She summoned her long whip, bracing to take the hit head-on.
Below the stage, panic broke across Li Ruoxi's face. She was one of the few disciples on the mountain who knew who Ouyang Shishi really was, and watching her face down an opponent this far out of her league made Li Ruoxi want to leap up there herself.
She'd nearly done it
When a bolt of Sword Qi, dense with killing intent, screamed across the stage toward Xing Hu.
Xing Hu felt death brush past him and reacted on instinct, throwing up a massive shield just in time. The Sword Qi punched clean through it, the impact shuddering through the air with a piercing whine.
Li Ruoxi turned and found the source at once: the short-haired man who'd been standing quietly beside her and Ouyang Shishi this whole time.
"Who dares ambush me?! Show yourself, if you've got the nerve to die!" Xing Hu shouted, still shaken from the strike. Half a second slower reacting, and he'd have lost an arm.
"Xing Hu, is it? Do me a favor, Feng Jian's asking. Give my junior brother a fair fight once he's finished his comprehension. Win that way, and it's actually a win worth having, don't you think?"
Feng Jian laughed, easy and warm, and dropped down onto the arena with the lightness of a swallow landing on a branch. He took up a position in front of Zhang Lingxiao, standing beside Ouyang Shishi.
A murmur of shock ran through every disciple watching, on the stage and off it.
He'd said his name was Feng Jian.
The Chief Core Disciple under the Ten Thousand Swords Peak Lord? The one who'd entered Qingyun Mountain as an Outer Sect Disciple at thirteen, made Inner Sect at fifteen, Core Disciple at seventeen, and by nineteen had become the Peak Lord's first Great Disciple, a run of talent nobody expected to see repeated in a generation?
Feng Jian's name had become something close to myth on this mountain. The man himself was rarely more than a rumor; people caught glimpses, never the whole picture, like a dragon's tail vanishing into cloud. Even Ouyang Shishi barely remembered what he looked like.
And here he was, standing on the Life-and-Death Arena, shielding Zhang Lingxiao.
"You're Senior Brother Feng Jian?"
A chill crawled up Xing Hu's scalp.
Ten years ago, this man had already been a Martial Artist at Spiritual Martial Realm Late Stage, and he'd claimed the title of Chief Core Disciple with a level of talent nobody in the sect had matched since. At his pace, a full realm every two years, he should be sitting at Xuanwu Realm Early Stage by now.
What was he doing here?
And he'd just called Zhang Lingxiao's junior brother.
Damn it. What exactly had that idiot Li Tianshuo dragged them all into?
Arrogant as Xing Hu was, even he knew when to bow his head to a legend.
"Feng Jian. That's my name, for what little it's worth," Feng Jian said, smiling.
He turned to Ouyang Shishi next, his expression softening into something almost doting.
"Shishi. I used to hold you when you were small enough to fit in one arm. Don't tell me you've forgotten."
"Brother Feng Jian! It really is you, of course, I haven't forgotten!" Ouyang Shishi's face lit up.
While the two of them talked, Xing Hu started backing away, quiet and unhurried.
Feng Jian's voice caught him before he'd gotten three steps.
"Xing Hu. Going somewhere? Stay a while longer, my junior brother's about to finish. No rush."
"Senior Brother Feng Jian, this whole thing was a misunderstanding. I wouldn't dream of interrupting Senior Brother Zhang Lingxiao's breakthrough." Xing Hu turned back and cupped his fists, humble to the point of no one below daring to so much as smirk.
Nobody thought less of him for it, not in front of Feng Jian. What surprised the crowd was the other detail: Zhang Lingxiao, junior brother to a legend like this? That explained the cultivation for someone so young, at least.
"No need. My junior brother's already awake."
Feng Jian's smile didn't waver.
He'd made his priorities plain enough already; this was what looking after your own actually meant. Zhang Lingxiao stood on the edge of a real breakthrough in his understanding of the sword, and a fight was exactly what would make it stick. Letting Xing Hu slip away now wasn't an option.
"Boom!"
A concussive burst rolled across the arena.
Every eye turned as Zhang Lingxiao's eyes slowly opened.
"Hoo... breakthroughs only get harder the higher you climb. I thought this Epiphany might carry me all the way to Spiritual Martial Realm Sixth Heaven..."
"...but Sixth Heaven's close enough now. Not far at all."
He murmured it to himself, rising from where he'd sat.
"Senior Brother Feng Jian, I take it? I've heard your name for a long time. Zhang Lingxiao offers his thanks." He rose and cupped his fists toward Feng Jian first.
He'd caught every word of what happened while he sat there. Whatever reason this Chief Core Disciple had for standing up for him, gratitude was the least he owed in return.
Then his gaze shifted to Ouyang Shishi, and his smile gentled enough to leave her looking flustered, her composure slipping just slightly.
"Junior Brother Zhang Lingxiao, now that you're awake, the arena's yours again." Feng Jian glanced toward Xing Hu as he said it.
"Much appreciated, Senior Brother Feng. Thank you for setting this up," Zhang Lingxiao said without hesitation.
He needed this fight. His grip on the Sword Intent he'd just found was still new, still loose; a battle now was exactly what would lock it in.
"Come now... let's just... Senior Brother Zhang Lingxiao, a moment ago I"
"Enough." Feng Jian cut him off.
"I'll stand witness to this duel myself. No need to sign a new contract. Begin."
With that, Feng Jian and Ouyang Shishi stepped down from the arena together, leaving the two of them alone on the stage.
His meaning couldn't have been clearer: this fight was happening, and Xing Hu's life was the price his junior brother would pay to sharpen his blade.