The following evening, Lin Yinyin quietly escorted Song Fei from the mountain gate. They boarded Zhang Xian’s flying vessel, which hovered discreetly a hundred miles outside the sect’s borders.

As she stepped onto the deck, the Senior Sister of Cloud Breaking Peak couldn’t mask her astonishment. “So this is a flying vessel,” she murmured, her slender fingers tracing the glowing, intricate arrays carved into the railing. Her envy was palpable. “Even my Master doesn’t possess such a treasure.”

Zhang Xian had been waiting in the sword chamber. Seeing them enter, he offered a salute that was as elegant as it was perfectly proper. “Senior Sister Song.”

He had done his homework. Song Fei possessed a rare, top-grade Metal Spirit Root. A former rogue cultivator, she was known for being cautious and meticulous. She was undeniably beautiful, yet Zhang Xian noted with a trace of surprise that the system hadn’t flagged her as a Daughter of Destiny.

A pity, he thought. The system’s criteria remained a frustrating mystery.

When Song Fei looked at Zhang Xian, a flicker of guarded discomfort crossed her face. She had heard the rumors of his predatory reputation. He couldn’t possibly have designs on me, could he? I must remain vigilant!

She had never understood why a girl as talented as Lin Yinyin was obsessed with a man like Zhang Xian. But as she surveyed the breathtaking luxury of the sword chamber, the logic began to click into place.

Song Fei sighed inwardly. Zhang Xian isn’t just rich; he is obscenely wealthy. Only a sword cultivator with a heart of tempered steel could resist this kind of temptation.

She cleared her throat, affecting a business-like calm. “Let’s be clear. The spirit stones and the Immortal Ascension Herb…”

“Already prepared.” Zhang Xian snapped his fingers. A puppet maid glided forward instantly, presenting a jade box.

Song Fei’s breath hitched as she inspected the contents. It was exactly as promised: two hundred thousand mid-grade spirit stones and an Immortal Ascension Herb capable of purifying one’s very spirit root.

“Junior Brother… I mean, Boss, shall we begin?” She swept the treasures into her storage pouch, her loyalty bought a hundred percent by the tycoon who paid the full amount upfront.

“Just ‘Junior Brother Zhang’ will do. Yes, let’s begin.”

Song Fei nodded, her gaze turning sharp. “My opening is three inches below my left rib. Focus your attacks there. Yinyin mentioned your mastery of the Yunmiao Sword Scripture is respectable. We’ll spar using only sword techniques to sell the act.”

For the next two hours, the two rehearsed every parry and strike. Song Fei’s professionalism was terrifying; she calculated the angles, the force, and the timing of their exchanges with surgical precision.

“Won’t the referee notice?” Lin Yinyin asked, her voice laced with worry.

“The referee is the Head Seat of Pill Cauldron Peak. His sword path is mediocre at best,” Song Fei said with a mysterious smile. “Besides, I ‘sustained’ internal injuries in my last match. As the fight drags on, I’ll naturally fall into a disadvantage.”

“What internal injuries?” Lin Yinyin blinked. Song Fei looked like the picture of radiant health.

“These injuries…” Song Fei suddenly circulated her energy, forcing her spiritual power into a violent reversal. Her face turned paper-pale, and she let out a sharp cough, spitting a mouthful of fresh blood onto the floor. “…are very real now. That makes it safe.”

Zhang Xian: “…”

This woman’s dedication to her craft was borderline psychotic.

He hurriedly offered a top-grade spirit ginseng. “Senior Sister, please… take care of yourself,” he said, his voice carrying a new note of genuine respect.

Song Fei accepted it without ceremony, wiping the blood from her lip. “Don’t worry. I know my limits.”

On the day of the quarterfinals, Heavenly Palace Peak was a boiling cauldron of excitement.

Zhang Xian’s match had drawn a massive crowd. Its popularity was rivaled only by the bracket featuring Li Fuxi and Lin Yinyin. The area below the stage was packed with disciples practically vibrating with the hope of seeing Zhang Xian pulverized.

Even several reclusive elders had emerged to watch, including Head Seat Zhao of Cloud Breaking Peak.

“It’s finally starting!”

“Senior Sister Song is going to end that scoundrel’s career!”

“I don’t know… I heard she’s still carrying a heavy injury from her last round. She’s at a serious disadvantage.”

“Match begin!” the referee roared.

Song Fei struck first. Her sword cleared its sheath like a flash of winter lightning, aiming straight for Zhang Xian’s throat. Zhang Xian raised his blade horizontally, meeting her strike with a resounding clang.

“Beautiful!” cheers erupted from the stands.

The duel that followed was a masterclass. They displayed the Yunmiao Sword Scripture to its absolute perfection. Their movements flowed like a river, offense and defense transitioning with the grace of a mountain hawk.

“Holy crap! This is amazing!”

“This is what a real sword duel looks like!”

“I hate the guy, but I have to admit, Zhang Xian’s sword path is legitimate. He’s actually holding his own against a genius!”

The disciples watched, mesmerized.

“It’s just a tragedy that Senior Sister Song is injured. Look at her face—she’s getting paler by the second. Her spiritual power is flagging. This is a battle of attrition she just can’t win.”

However, Head Seat Zhao of Cloud Breaking Peak frowned as he watched. As a true grandmaster, he saw the subtle cracks in the performance. Song Fei’s strikes were fierce, but she was pulling her punches at every critical junction. And Zhang Xian’s defense was too perfect, as if he knew exactly where her blade would land before she did.

A fixed match! His fist clenched, but he held his tongue.

Just as the duel reached its peak, Song Fei’s momentum faltered. Her face went deathly white. “Cough!” She sprayed a mist of blood across the stone and staggered, falling to one knee.

“I… I have lost…” Her voice was a weak, trembling whisper. The tears glistening in her eyes spoke of a soul-crushing defeat. It was a flawless performance.

“Zhang Xian wins!” the referee announced.

The crowd erupted in a fury of grief and rage.

“Dammit! This is a robbery!”

“That old thief just got lucky because she was hurt!”

“Senior Sister Song! You did your best! We still believe in you!”

Zhang Xian’s eye twitched. If they hadn’t spent all of yesterday rehearsing, even he would have believed her. Suppressing a laugh, he offered a Spirit Recovery Pill. “Senior Sister, please, recover well.”

Song Fei took the pill with a faint, tragic “thank you.” She dragged her “weakened” body off the stage, her lonely, desolate silhouette moving many disciples to actual tears.

Cloud Breaking Peak, Head Seat’s Cave Abode.

Head Seat Zhao looked at his prize disciple. “Feifei, explain yourself.”

Song Fei calmly wiped a non-existent trace of blood from her mouth. “Master, I simply couldn’t best him.”

“Bullshit! Do you think I’m blind? That was a fix!” He pointed a finger at her nose. “And that injury? You forced your own energy into reverse! You think I can’t tell?!”

Song Fei went silent, realizing she couldn’t fool a grandmaster. She pulled the jade box from her storage pouch and set it on the table. As the lid opened, the rich, vibrant aura of the Immortal Ascension Herb filled the room.

“Hiss—is that an Immortal Ascension Herb?!” Zhao gasped, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.

“And a mountain of spirit stones. I’m sorry, Master,” Song Fei whispered, bowing her head. “I’ve brought shame to our peak.”

To her shock, the Head Seat’s expression flipped instantly. He grabbed her shoulders, his beard trembling with excitement. “Silly girl! You need to get closer to him!”

“Look at Li Fuxi,” he hissed. “Ever since she took that kid in, her cultivation has exploded. I suspect every sword in her hand is now a Spirit Treasure! Even I might not be able to beat her anymore.”

“I only regret that I wasn’t born a woman,” he lamented. “Otherwise, I would have won Zhang Xian over myself!”

Song Fei: “???”

“Feifei, your Master has always looked out for you…”

Song Fei felt a cold shiver of dread.

“Do you think… you could find a way to get ‘intimate’ with Zhang Xian?” The Head Seat rubbed his hands together greedily.

Song Fei stood up and walked toward the exit without another word.

“I’m talking to you!”

“I’m going to practice my sword.”

“Forget the sword! Go seduce Zhang Xian!”