Things unfolded exactly as she had feared.
Shen Shuanglian's technique, being the orthodox cultivation method of the Misty Spirit Sect, was undeniably one of the finest sword techniques in the cultivation world — the "Frozen Moon Misty Sword Technique." Even by today's standards, it remained a top-tier sword art.
Under Shen Shuanglian's mastery, this technique was as unrelenting as a flowing river. Although Yu Xiang managed to parry and deflect each attack with remarkable skill, her countermeasures lacked coherence and fluidity.
As time passed, Shen Shuanglian's attacks became increasingly sharp and seamless, while Yu Xiang's movements grew more sluggish and strained. The signs of her decline were becoming evident.
Yu Xiang remained silent, giving her all as she wielded her sword.
From the stands, many spectators began to notice Yu Xiang's growing disadvantage. The crowd's cheers for Shen Shuanglian intensified, echoing with fervor and excitement.
Shen Shuanglian, however, seemed unmoved by the cheers around her. She remained focused, lost in the rhythm of her swordplay, as if performing a solitary, elegant dance.
Finally, Yu Xiang faltered, a flaw in her technique causing her to stagger.
Shen Shuanglian seized the opportunity without hesitation. Her sword lashed out sharply, its tip grazing Yu Xiang's left shoulder with precision.
Crimson blood immediately welled up and flowed from the wound.
Yu Xiang staggered backward, her delicate brows furrowing as she clutched her shoulder in silence.
Shen Shuanglian hadn't expected Yu Xiang to let her guard down so carelessly. Cautious of a possible trick, she refrained from pressing the advantage and instead retreated a step, keeping her sharp gaze on her opponent.
The audience, however, erupted at the sight of blood.
"Frost Moon Sword Immortal! Frost Moon Sword Immortal!"
The crowd roared as one, chanting Shen Shuanglian's title. Their voices merged into a mighty wave of sound that reverberated throughout the arena.
Yu Xiang lowered her gaze, her brow creased as she clutched her wounded shoulder and glanced around.
—Everyone was cheering for Shen Shuanglian.
It felt as though her presence on stage was insignificant, merely a formality to celebrate Shen Shuanglian's victory.
No one noticed her.
The searing pain from her wound brought her focus back.
Amid her muddled thoughts, Yu Xiang's gaze inadvertently drifted toward Chen Yin.
Among the fervent crowd, Chen Yin stood out in stark contrast. Unlike the others, he remained seated, his brows furrowed deeply, showing no sign of joining in the cheers for Shen Shuanglian.
Yu Xiang's lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
—She knew what she was hoping for.
But she also knew it was impossible.
On this stage, she wasn't the cherished junior sister Xiang'er he had once doted on. She was a mysterious cultivator with an unknown past, going by the name Yin Mengwan.
He wouldn't cheer for her.
No one would.
In truth, from the moment the system chose her as the villainess, her fate had been sealed.
Her life was destined to be one of solitude, trudging alone on the path of vengeance.
...
"But, senior brother," she murmured softly, almost inaudibly.
"Just this once... Just this one time before you, I—"
—Xiang'er doesn't want to lose.
The system seemed to sense something amiss and panicked. [Wait, what—what are you planning to do?]
Yu Xiang didn't respond.
Her sword engaged with Shen Shuanglian's again. Without hesitation, Shen Shuanglian countered, and the two were once more locked in a fierce duel.
At first, Yu Xiang's swordsmanship seemed unchanged, unable to pose a serious threat to Shen Shuanglian. But suddenly, mid-motion, her technique shifted.
Her moves, once elusive and graceful, transformed into something domineering and ruthless, exuding an aura of dark, eerie sharpness.
Even her gaze seemed veiled by a deep, ominous shadow.
The abrupt change caught everyone off guard. Shen Shuanglian faltered momentarily, and her sword was forcefully knocked aside.
At the exact moment Yu Xiang struck, Chen Yin abruptly closed his eyes.
Simultaneously, in the highest chamber of the Wanxiang Pavilion, amidst the ethereal mist, a series of startled exclamations echoed:
"Huh? This—this is..."
"Quick! Stop the match!"
Before the voices could finish, Yu Xiang's sword, now brimming with an overwhelming force of dark energy, shot toward Shen Shuanglian like lightning. With no time to evade, Shen Shuanglian gritted her teeth and raised her sword defensively across her chest.
She knew that taking this strike head-on would likely result in severe injury, but she had no other choice.
As she closed her eyes, bracing for the impending impact, the expected agony never arrived.
Instead, she heard a faint, almost imperceptible sigh.
"...Ah."
When Shen Shuanglian opened her eyes, she froze completely.
Not only her, but even Yu Xiang, who had just thrust her sword forward, froze mid-motion.
Her sword tip was gently pinched between two fingers. The owner of those fingers was a face so familiar to her that it haunted even her dreams.
Chen Yin had effortlessly caught her strike and now stood there looking at her.
In his eyes was a complexity she couldn't put into words.
<+>
For a moment, the entire arena fell silent.
Most of the audience didn't even realize what had just happened. To them, Yin Mengwan, who had been at a disadvantage the whole time, had suddenly launched a ferocious attack, only to be stopped by a mysterious man before she could secure her advantage.
After a brief silence, murmurs and whispers began to ripple through the crowd.
Chen Yin, holding the sword with one hand, gazed calmly at Yu Xiang.
Behind him, Shen Shuanglian stared at his back, as if rooted to the spot, unable to move.
Yu Xiang, however, appeared flustered. Her expression turned panicked and fragile, and she nearly uttered a single word:
"Senior—"
"Miss Yin," Chen Yin interrupted with a faint smile. "The Heavenly Beauty Summit is just a competition, not a life-or-death battle. Why push yourself so hard?"
His tone was gentle and unhurried. "Let's take it easy, shall we?"
—Of course, that wasn't the real reason he had intervened.
From the moment Yu Xiang's expression began to shift, Chen Yin had kept his eyes locked on her. He knew she was someone who acted on emotion, and though he didn't fully understand what was troubling her now, he was worried.
He had already prepared to step in.
The instant Yu Xiang changed her technique, Chen Yin realized what was happening.
The only method capable of rivaling the Frozen Moon Misty Sword Technique was that legendary demonic cultivation technique: the "Refined Nether Arts."
But that was a demonic cultivation technique, after all.
Perhaps Xiang'er had succumbed to her pride in the heat of battle, revealing her technique to challenge Shen Shuanglian. But doing so would expose her identity as the Saintess of the demonic faction.
In a setting as public as this — especially with so many high-ranking cultivators observing closely from the Wanxiang Pavilion — the consequences would be unimaginable.
Thus, Chen Yin intervened, stopping her before it was too late.
However, he wasn't sure if the elders had noticed Yu Xiang's anomaly. A sense of unease lingered in his heart.
At that moment, a stern voice rang out from the air above:
"I hereby announce: the match is suspended!"
—It was over. Chen Yin sighed inwardly.
Amid the murmurs of the audience, several figures descended from the sky, their presences exuding an unshakable authority. They surrounded Yu Xiang.
Leading them was Wan Yunhai, the Pavilion Master of the Wanxiang Pavilion, accompanied by several others in similar robes. Among the group was an elder wearing attire identical to Shen Shuanglian's, likely a guardian elder from the main sect of the Misty Spirit Sect.
As they appeared, a wave of intangible pressure blanketed the arena, suffocating the atmosphere.
Shen Shuanglian snapped out of her daze and immediately bowed respectfully to the elder dressed like her. "Elder Mo Jie."
The frail, dry figure named Mo Jie nodded slightly and turned his gaze back to Yu Xiang, his eyes filled with suspicion.
Meanwhile, the system's panicked voice buzzed in Yu Xiang's ear:
[It's over, it's over! How could your identity be exposed so quickly?! Forget following the plotline — now escaping from this many righteous elders will be a problem!]
But Yu Xiang seemed not to hear it.
From the moment Elder Mo Jie appeared, her gaze had been fixed on him, unblinking.
Her wide eyes brimmed with complex emotions — fury, resentment, madness, venom.
Every ounce of her darkness converged in her gaze, reflecting the image of the elder.
That silhouette...
It was one of the faces that had haunted her nightmares for over a decade.
A face she could never forget for the rest of her life.
Her emotions nearly overwhelmed her; her sword trembled slightly in her grasp.
Finally, Mo Jie broke the silence, his tone low and questioning:
"Girl, who are you? Do you realize the nature of the technique you just used?"
Yu Xiang bit her lip hard, her eyes bloodshot and her silence unwavering.
Nearby, a servant respectfully handed Wan Yunhai a list. Glancing at it, Wan Yunhai read aloud:
"Changli Palace... Changli Palace?"
The mention of that name stirred a reaction among the elders, who began whispering among themselves:
"Changli Palace? Could it be that sect from years ago…"
"Shh… Don't speak of it…"
Mo Jie's face also shifted repeatedly upon hearing the name. Surprise gave way to silence, and eventually, a subtle yet complex expression surfaced.
"Brazen demonic wench!" he suddenly barked.
"So the demonic faction has grown this bold, daring to send someone to the Heavenly Beauty Summit in plain sight of the righteous sects?"
"Had this young man not intervened in time, saving my sect's disciple from your wicked technique, our senior disciple might have fallen prey to your schemes today!"
The arena erupted into chaos.
Whispers and murmurs spread like wildfire:
"The demonic faction? What's going on? Is this Yin Mengwan really from the demonic faction?"
"Changli Palace… I vaguely recall it. Isn't that the sect destroyed years ago after its master went mad and wiped out the entire sect?"
"So there were survivors? And now they've turned to the demonic faction?"
Amid the storm of accusations and speculation, Yu Xiang stood trembling. Her eyes reflected both anger and fear.
Almost instinctively, she turned to Chen Yin, her gaze pleading and desperate.
Chen Yin closed his eyes in resignation.
—As expected, things had spiraled into the worst-case scenario.
Fate truly was cruel.
However.
When he reopened his eyes, they gleamed with a hint of determination. Slowly, he stepped forward, positioning himself protectively in front of Yu Xiang.
Facing the righteous elders, he cupped his hands respectfully and spoke with calm assurance:
"Elders, I believe there may be a misunderstanding."
"I have known this young lady for many years. She is no demonic cultivator."
<+>
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