CHAPTER 9
Before Shangguan Ning could raise his flute to play, Li Qinqing lunged at him with blinding speed, her sword aiming for a quick and decisive blow. Shangguan Ning instinctively dodged, his movements swift and graceful. The force of her strike cracked the ground where he had stood just moments before.
Seeing that Li Qinqing was determined to engage in close combat, Shangguan Ning adjusted his stance. He held his flute firmly in hand, using it as both a shield and a tool of precision, deflecting her sword strikes with surprising agility. Each clash between her blade and his flute rang out like thunder, the audience captivated by the sudden shift in combat style.
Li Qinqing, sensing an opening, pressed harder, her sword slicing through the air with fierce precision. Shangguan Ning, however, remained composed, parrying each attack with skillful movements of his flute, but his discomfort with the proximity and style of combat was evident. His elegance in music-based martial arts was unparalleled, but this chaotic form of combat was not his forte.
"This... the Sovereign Consort isn't wielding a sword?" one of the clan leaders remarked, his voice filled with confusion.
"I've heard whispers about the Grand Prince Shangguan Ning from the Wu dynasty," another demon officer added, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "It is said that despite his noble blood and immense talents, the Grand Prince has always disliked wielding a sword, and thus never fully mastered the art. He prefers music as his weapon."
The crowd, now more curious than ever, watched with bated breath. They had expected Shangguan Ning to showcase his strength with his mystical abilities, but here he was, engaged in a physical duel with only a flute to defend himself. Despite his disadvantage, his movements remained fluid, noble, and controlled, never losing the grace that defined his every step.
Li Qinqing's strikes grew fiercer, her eyes wild with the power surging through her. "Is this all you have, Shangguan Ning? Without your music, you're nothing!" she taunted, her sword clashing violently against the flute.
But even as the fight intensified, Shangguan Ning's calm gaze never wavered.
"Without music, I am not nothing," Shangguan Ning replied calmly, his eyes locking with Li Qinqing's. Despite the intensity of the fight, his voice remained as serene as ever. "I simply find swords... too exhausting. That's why I chose not to fully master them."
A flicker of surprise passed over Li Qinqing's face, her confidence momentarily shaken. She had been expecting to break him, but his composed demeanor held firm, even in the face of her wild assault.
Shangguan Ning's lips curled into a faint smile as he continued, "Though, I never said it was my weakness."
With that, Shangguan Ning's movements shifted. He began to deflect her blows with precise, calculated strikes, his flute moving like an extension of his body. Though not a traditional weapon, in his hands, it became something else entirely—a symbol of his nobility, his mastery, and his refusal to be defined by conventional strength.
The audience, having doubted his ability to match Li Qinqing in close combat, now watched in awe. Despite his distaste for swords, Shangguan Ning was proving that he didn't need one to hold his ground. His every move was graceful and efficient, his finesse outshining brute force.
Li Qinqing's expression hardened, and she attacked again with renewed vigor, but Shangguan Ning sidestepped her easily, avoiding the blade and redirecting her momentum with a light flick of his flute. She stumbled slightly, frustration building in her eyes.
"It's not the weapon," Shangguan Ning said quietly, stepping back and raising his flute to his lips once more. "It's the wielder."
The haunting sound of a single note filled the arena, sending a ripple of energy through the air. The crowd gasped, realizing that Shangguan Ning had never truly needed a sword to be dangerous. His power came from within—his mastery over his craft, his unshakable poise, and his ability to command with just a melody.
"Today, if I cannot harm you, I will bring you with me!" Li Qinqing shouted, her voice filled with desperation and madness as she charged toward Shangguan Ning with reckless abandon. The energy around her surged violently, threatening to explode. The consequences of the pill she had taken were evident—her power was overwhelming, but unstable, on the verge of consuming her.
Shangguan Ning stood firm, his gaze calm as he watched her approach. "You think blowing yourself up and dragging me down with you will resolve this?" he asked, his tone steady and unmoved. "You must be kidding."
Just as Li Qinqing prepared to unleash the full extent of her self-destructive power, Shangguan Ning raised his flute and began to play. The notes, soft at first, floated through the air like a gentle breeze, calming and soothing. The melody was enchanting, yet powerful—each note carefully designed to weave a spell over Li Qinqing's unstable energy.
The crowd, who had been holding their breath, could feel the shift in the atmosphere. The chaotic, raging power that had been swirling around Li Qinqing began to wane, its intensity dulled by the melody. Her movements slowed, her aggression fading as if lulled by the very notes Shangguan Ning played.
Li Qinqing, who had been ready to detonate herself in a final act of desperation, felt the energy inside her dissipating, no longer out of her control. The overwhelming urge to explode vanished, replaced by a strange calm. She looked at Shangguan Ning in shock, her body betraying her as she knelt on the ground, the strength drained from her.
"Impossible…" she muttered, her voice barely a whisper.
Shangguan Ning lowered his flute, the last note lingering in the air. "Power without control will only lead to destruction," he said softly. "But true strength lies in knowing when to stop. You could never take me down that way."
The arena fell silent, the gravity of Shangguan Ning's words sinking in. The spectators, who had once expected an explosive end, now witnessed a demonstration of mastery and grace that left no room for doubt—Shangguan Ning was far more than just a talented musician; he was a force to be reckoned with.
With the last of Shangguan Ning's calming melody still hanging in the air, Li Qinqing's knees finally gave out, her body collapsing to the ground. Trembling, she muttered incoherently, her voice low and broken.
"You lose," Shangguan Ning said firmly, his voice unwavering as he looked down at her, the elegance and nobility in his demeanor ever present.
Li Qinqing's eyes were wide, filled with disbelief as she muttered, "This can't be… This can't be… THIS CAN'T BE!" Her voice grew louder with each repetition, her frustration mounting. She had taken the forbidden pill, sacrificed everything for the chance to defeat him, and yet here she was—powerless and defeated, unable to even touch him.
The crowd watched in stunned silence. What had begun as a desperate gambit by Li Qinqing had ended in utter humiliation. Her father, the leader of the Wolf Clan, looked on with a mix of sorrow and shame, unable to intervene.
"You were blinded by your ambition," Shangguan Ning said softly, his tone neither cruel nor triumphant. "And in doing so, you forgot that strength without wisdom is nothing more than a path to ruin."
As her body shook in defeat, Li Qinqing's aura dimmed, the once ferocious power dissipating entirely. The consequences of the pill had begun to set in, and her fate was sealed—not just in the duel, but in the promise that she had gambled away.
The crowd knew that Li Qinqing's defeat wasn't just a loss in the arena—it was the end of her noble status, her future bound by the bold terms set by Shangguan Ning before the duel.
"Your Majesty, please have mercy!" the clan leader of the Wolf Clan, Li Qinqing's father, pleaded desperately. One by one, the other clan leaders and nobles followed, bowing their heads in hopes of softening the blow of the harsh consequences.
"Ning'er," the emperor called out, his voice more measured but heavy with expectation. "Perhaps you should reconsider."
Shangguan Ning's eyes narrowed as he swept his gaze across the room, his presence commanding attention. The hall fell into a tense silence, awaiting his response. His voice, calm but laced with underlying power, broke through. "Backing out of the agreement... Does the Demon Empire think I, Shangguan Ning, am not worthy of my position? Is it because I came from the Wu Dynasty that you look down on me?"
He raised his head higher, his aura imposing. "Is my status too low for your empire to honor the very terms of a bet made in front of all these witnesses?"
His words hung in the air, heavy and sharp, cutting through the pretense of the court's politeness. The emperor shifted slightly on his throne, clearly understanding the weight of what had just been said. Shangguan Ning had positioned the situation not as a mere bet between individuals, but as a matter of respect for the imperial family and the alliance between their realms.
"No one in this hall would dare question your status, Ning'er," the emperor finally said, his tone both careful and soothing, as if trying to calm turbulent waters. "Your presence here is an honor to us all. The bet was agreed upon, and it will be honored."
This declaration caused a ripple through the crowd, silencing even the nobles who had been backing the Wolf Clan. Li Qinqing's father bowed his head lower, knowing he had no choice but to accept the decision.
Shangguan Ning remained calm, though his gaze held a quiet triumph. The weight of his position had been asserted.
Having heard the emperor's final declaration, Li Qinqing's face turned ashen. The fight drained from her eyes as she realized the gravity of her loss. Trembling, she whispered, "No… this can't be…" But her strength failed her, and she collapsed to the ground, her body unable to support the weight of both her defeat and the consequences that awaited.
"The duel is done," Shangguan Ning said calmly, his voice carrying the authority of victory. He glanced down at Li Qinqing, not with pity but with the certainty of one who had upheld the terms of their agreement. "We shall honor the bet."
The hall remained quiet, a mixture of unease and reluctant respect hanging in the air. No one dared to protest further. Li Qinqing's father knelt before the emperor, silently accepting his daughter's fate, and the nobles who had rallied behind her lowered their heads in compliance.
The emperor, though conflicted, gave a firm nod. "The bet will be honored," he echoed, sealing the matter with his imperial authority. The tension that had filled the air began to dissipate, though the weight of what had transpired would linger.
Shangguan Ning, composed and dignified, turned and walked away from the center of the arena, his presence now solidified as one not to be trifled with.