For the past half-month, they hadn’t set foot off the flying boat.

Mornings were for cultivating techniques. Afternoons were spent dissecting sword arts. Evenings were dedicated to quiet meditation and insight.

And at night came the highlight of the day—soaking in the hot springs, the ultimate solace for a weary body.

The half-month flew by, and in the blink of an eye, the day of the semifinals arrived.

“Are you ready?” Li Fuxi’s voice drifted over.

Today, she had changed into a rare, plain white sword robe. Two Spirit Treasure longswords hung at her waist, and her long braid was combed with meticulous precision.

Zhang Xian grinned. “Master, don’t go losing on me today.”

“Worry about yourself!” Li Fuxi shot him a glare.

Lin Yinyin bounced out from the cabin, still dressed in her signature green-and-white disciple uniform. “Master, Big Brother, let’s go!”

The trio took to the skies on their swords, streaking toward Heavenly Palace Peak.

Lin Yinyin flew in the center, her gaze darting between the two of them, her small face a picture of inner conflict.

“What’s wrong?” Zhang Xian noticed her hesitation.

“I…” Lin Yinyin bit her lip. “I want to watch Master’s match, but I’m also worried about you, Big Brother…”

Zhang Xian chuckled softly, steering his sword closer.

“How about this: you go watch Master’s match. As soon as it ends, come find me immediately.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “If Master wins, just nod. If she loses… shake your head.”

“Why?”

“Just do as I say.” Zhang Xian reached out and ruffled her hair.

“Okay!” Lin Yinyin agreed obediently.

It seemed Master’s status in her brother’s heart was climbing higher and higher. He had his own match to fight, yet his mind was on hers.

Heavenly Palace Peak soon loomed into view.

Today’s arena was bustling with even more fervor than usual. Disciples from every peak had arrived early to stake out spots, terrified of missing the grand event.

After the trio landed, Zhang Xian headed toward his designated arena. Along the way, the whispers of the disciples followed him like a shadow.

“Look, it’s Old Demon Zhang! Damn, looks like he arrived with Inspector Fuxi and Junior Sister Yinyin.”

“Too bad his opponent today is Elder Wang Yue. I doubt he’ll be able to act so cocky.”

“Elder Wang Yue is high in seniority and a sixth-level Golden Core cultivator. But she has a very gentle temper, so she probably won’t be too heavy-handed.”

“I don’t care! I just want to see Old Demon Zhang lose! I even skipped Inspector Fuxi’s match just to watch this scumbag get beaten!”

The arena was already a sea of people.

When Zhang Xian stepped onto the stage, a female cultivator in white robes was already waiting opposite him. She wore her hair in a refreshing single ponytail, her features delicate and beautiful. She looked no older than her early twenties.

“Wang Yue of Heavenly Palace Peak. I seek your guidance.”

Zhang Xian returned the courtesy. “Zhang Xian of Spirit Sword Peak. I seek your guidance.”

Strangely, after the polite exchange, neither made a move. They simply stood there, locking eyes in a silent standoff.

[Ding! Discovered 55-point Daughter of Destiny: Wang Yue.]

[Ding! Wang Yue’s Favorability toward you is 20. Binding successful.]

Interesting… Zhang Xian thought.

This Elder Wang Yue was actually a Daughter of Destiny, and her initial Favorability wasn’t low, either.

Meanwhile, at another arena not far away.

Li Fuxi’s sword was already unsheathed, gleaming with a chilling light.

Her opponent, Nangong Yao, was equally prepared.

Years ago, when Nangong Yao and Wang Chuan were peers, the Li Fuxi standing before her had been nothing but a naive little girl. Now, Li Fuxi’s aura was no weaker than her own!

Hmph! Why?

Over the years, Nangong Yao had ventured into countless secret realms, risking life and limb in search of opportunities. How could she possibly be inferior to a silly girl who did nothing but hide on a mountain and cultivate?

Lin Yinyin stood in the front row of the spectator seats, her small hands nervously twisting the hem of her robes, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on the stage.

A mountain breeze began to rise, fluttering everyone’s robes and scattering the last of the morning mist.

The semifinals had officially begun!

Back at Zhang Xian’s arena.

The two combatants stood quietly, statuesque in their immobility.

The audience below began to stir with restlessness.

“Why aren’t they fighting yet?”

“Is there some shady deal going on?”

Wang Yue remained cautious. She had done her homework.

The Zhang Xian before her seemed unremarkable—merely a False Core cultivator—but he was suspected to possess a Spirit Treasure for protection. She had to be careful.

Anyone who made it to the Top Four was no ordinary individual! She couldn’t let his first-grade False Core cultivation fool her.

Just as Wang Yue was pondering this, she saw Zhang Xian summon a puppet identical in size to himself.

Here it comes! Her heart tightened.

Then, she watched as the puppet silently erected an earthen shield.

Wang Yue: “?”

Starting with a defensive turtle shell right off the bat?

“Martial Nephew Zhang,” she called out, a trace of confusion in her clear, melodious voice. “Don’t you want to make a move?”

Zhang Xian hid behind the puppet and grinned. “Martial Aunt, ladies first.”

This shameless display caused an uproar among the audience below.

“He’s putting on quite the act!”

“I think he’s scared!”

“Elder Wang Yue! Cut him down!”

“Then I must offend.”

Wang Yue formed a seal with her left hand. Three fiery vortices instantly condensed in the air, scorching gales churning the currents. The temperature of the entire arena skyrocketed!

A rain of fire poured down!

Amidst the flames, Zhang Xian calmly flicked his sleeve.

The puppet in front of him dropped to one knee, crossing its arms and raising them high. A massive rock shield unfolded with a heavy thud, covering him like a protective umbrella.

Sizzle!

The rain of fire crashed against the rock shield, evaporating into a sky full of white steam.

The moment the thick fog obscured everyone’s vision, Zhang Xian fished out a pill and popped it into his mouth with practiced ease.

Sharp-eyed spectators caught the motion and immediately started jeering.

“Damn it! Popping pills right from the start?!”

“Even against Elder Wang Yue, he has to rely on cheating?!”

“Old Thief Zhang! Have you no shame?!”

“Martial Nephew Zhang, you don’t actually think you can win by stalling, do you?”

Wang Yue brought the sword fingers of her left hand together. Clang! A three-foot green blade unsheathed with a ringing cry!

Suddenly, another puppet charged out from Zhang Xian’s flank!

Its arms sprayed bone-chilling cold currents. The air instantly froze, forming countless ice crystals that extinguished the encroaching flames.

“A Water Puppet?!”

“How many tricks does he have up his sleeve?!”

Wang Yue flicked her wrist, and red light surged along her sword’s edge. A sharp sword intent pierced through the icy mist, slashing fiercely into the puppet’s chest!

“Good hit!” Cheers erupted from the crowd.

Zhang Xian’s fingers flew in a blur. Two Earth Spirit Talismans ignited mid-air, forming a secondary rock shield to cover the Water Puppet, blocking the residual sword energy.

At the same time, the injured puppet retreated hastily. Its chest had been pierced, revealing the intricate, complex gear arrays spinning inside.

Just as Wang Yue was about to deliver another strike to finish it off, she saw Zhang Xian produce another identical Water Puppet.

Together with the previous Earth Puppet, they stood to her left and right, blocking her path completely.

Simultaneously, Zhang Xian himself suddenly sat down cross-legged.

In his hands, a wrench, a talisman brush, and a pile of spirit-glowing components appeared out of thin air!

Clink! Clank! Clatter!

The sounds of hammering were clearly audible in the silent arena.

Tens of thousands of spectators collectively petrified.

They watched as Zhang Xian—as if no one else was around—pried open the injured puppet’s chest plate and started hammering and tinkering with the internal array. He even paused to blow away some dust.

“You…” Wang Yue’s sword hand trembled slightly.

Zhang Xian didn’t even look up. “Martial Aunt, don’t mind me. Please continue trying to break through the defensive line.”

Pfft!

Someone in the audience spat out their tea.

“Am I seeing things? On-site repairs?!”

A blush of frustration rose on Wang Yue’s beautiful face, her chest heaving slightly.

What was this? An infinite loop of puppets to stall her out?

“Come on! Fight me head-on!” Her sword tip pointed directly at Zhang Xian’s face, her voice finally carrying a hint of suppressed anger. “Where’s the momentum you used to instantly kill Martial Nephew Lu?!”

Zhang Xian looked up with an utterly sincere expression. “That secret technique has an extremely long cooldown. It can only be used once every six months.”

“You!” Wang Yue was so angry her ponytail swayed.

She had originally thought she could have a good, clean, hearty battle with Zhang Xian. But now? He was only defending, refusing to attack, and stalling with puppets, talismans, and pills.

How could anyone compete like this?!

She whipped a jade bottle out from her robes and declared sharply, “I have top-grade Spirit Recovery Pills too! You can’t outlast me!”

Little did she know, Zhang Xian didn’t even bother looking at her.

“Martial Aunt, if you don’t attack soon, I’ll be done patching this one up!”