39. Words Within Words

At the same time, under his control, the seven or eight fire serpents rapidly doubled back, aiming straight for Li Miao’s back.

With a muffled thud, the blade—carrying the force to split mountains—struck the black wooden token without reservation.

In the next instant, the fire serpents exploded behind Li Miao as well.

Flames roared, instantly engulfing both figures, leaving only a sea of blazing fire on the field.

Lu Yan admitted defeat.

The head of the Fire Refining Hall, famed for being invincible below the Returning Origin stage, had lost to a mere junior at the initial stage of Condensed Reality.

Though the match had not yet produced a clear victor, Lu Yingshuang’s recklessness had already cost the Fire Refining Hall much of its prestige. To stubbornly persist any further would serve no purpose but to make them appear shameless and disrespectful of the rules in their pursuit of victory.

At this moment, the crowd’s gaze upon Li Miao had completely changed.

Those who had doubted his strength now wholeheartedly accepted him.

Anyone capable of defeating even a late-stage Condensed Reality expert was already among the elite of Longling. And yet, he was only at the initial stage—his potential was limitless.

Although he looked rather battered, everyone knew that with such talent, it would not be long before he became a renowned master, leaving the small confines of Longling behind, and emerging as a dazzling new star in the great Mount Pang Prefecture, perhaps even in the greater Dragon Spring Dominion.

Amid the burning stares of the crowd, Li Miao halted, his war blade planted in the earth. He looked at Lu Yan from twenty paces away and said weakly, “You are very powerful. If not for my surprise attack with the Purple Sword, I would not have been your match.”

These words were sincere.

Unpleasant as their encounter had been, Li Miao still acknowledged Lu Yan’s strength.

Had it not been for the heavenly thunder summoned by the Purple Sword to weaken the opponent’s Blazing Soul Cleave, Li Miao might not have survived, let alone had the chance for a final flying sword strike.

Even if he had succeeded, the best outcome would have been a draw—neither would have truly prevailed.

Lu Yan managed a bitter smile, looking down at the sword hilt protruding from his chest, and said with a touch of desolation, “A loss is a loss. I won’t make excuses. Your possessing a spirit-treasure flying sword is your own capability; I have no cause for grievance.”

He knew well the might of the Purple Sword. With his experience, he could see it was a spirit-treasure far beyond the level of ordinary magical artifacts, holding unfathomable power.

But to the ears of the watching cultivators, this conversation took on a different meaning.

“A spirit-treasure flying sword?”

“That purple sword is actually a spirit-treasure?”

“No wonder Li Miao was so confident—he had such an artifact hidden on him.”

“That’s a spirit-treasure! Even Master Songshi, a Returning Origin expert, doesn’t possess such a thing!”

At this moment, Master Songshi on the high platform raised his hand and spoke, “Everyone, silence.”

The crowd turned their attention to him.

Master Songshi announced, “This battle should, by rights, have ended in a draw. However, since Master Lu has conceded, the slot in the final eight goes to Li Miao of the Lesser Yin Sect.”

The old Daoist’s expression toward Li Miao was somewhat complicated.

Spirit-treasures of this caliber—let alone the younger generation—even he and the other Returning Origin master on the platform coveted them greatly.

Yet as elders, and in such a setting, they had to maintain their dignity and could not reveal their true desires.

With his pronouncement, sighs of amazement swept the crowd, and even cheers erupted from sects not on good terms with the Fire Refining Hall.

To them, the direct elimination of Lu Yan, a favorite for the championship, was excellent news.

Though Li Miao was equally formidable, he represented the Lesser Yin Sect, with whom they bore no enmity. Even if he seized many resources, his sect’s strength would not skyrocket enough to supplant the Sun Clan.

Thus, the balance between the various factions would remain relatively stable.

“You two may leave the field and rest. There are seven more matches to be fought,” Master Songshi said.

Both Li Miao and Lu Yan were gravely injured and needed to recuperate.

Liu Xuanfeng and Consort Qi quickly entered the arena, supporting Li Miao.

The members of the Fire Refining Hall hurried over to extract the purple sword from Lu Yan and tend to his wounds. Luo Jing, at the mid-stage of Condensed Reality, cradled the Purple Sword in his hands, an unreadable look in his eyes.

He was sorely tempted to claim the sword as his own, but with so many witnesses, he dared not act.

Returning the treasured sword to Li Miao, Luo Jing said, “Young Master Li, your blade is returned.”

Li Miao was in poor shape. He stowed the Purple Sword into his small cosmos space and gave Luo Jing a slight nod. “Many thanks.” He then followed Consort Qi out of the arena.

Liu Xuanfeng remained at his side and whispered, “Brother Li, while your victory is worth celebrating, I fear you may now attract some trouble.”

“A man’s wealth is his own undoing.” A spirit-treasure flying sword was enough to cause envy, even madness, in many.

This was a significant hidden danger.

Li Miao understood well enough, but was not too concerned. He replied, “If trouble comes, I’ll use Ji Lingyu as a scapegoat. Once I’m healed, nothing will be a threat.”

He had anticipated this outcome and didn’t care much.

He was not the type to shy away from using his treasures just to avoid attention.

There were endless troubles in the world. Being coveted and hunted was nothing extraordinary. If one was so timid as to shrink away at the first hint of trouble, one might as well settle down and farm in some quiet corner.

He said to Liu Xuanfeng, “Prepare for your own match. I’m already in the final eight. The rest is up to you.”

“Very well. Take care, then. Consort Qi, please escort Brother Li back,” said Liu Xuanfeng.

Consort Qi agreed and helped Li Miao out of the crowd.

As they went, many eyes followed, greed flashing as they looked at the weakened Li Miao.

Had he been in good shape—capable of fighting Lu Yan to a draw—no one would dare entertain evil thoughts.

But now, seeing him so frail he needed help to walk, many began to scheme.

Consort Qi produced two pills and fed them to Li Miao, deliberately releasing her own Condensed Reality aura to deter would-be troublemakers.

This proved somewhat effective; those at the Qi Refining stage quickly settled down.

Yet a few scattered Condensed Reality cultivators still cast furtive glances their way.

After much difficulty, they made their way through the throng and into the city. By now, Consort Qi’s forehead was beaded with sweat from tension.

“At least seven Condensed Reality cultivators were watching us just now. Young Master Li, how did you come to possess such a precious spirit-treasure?” she asked uneasily.

After taking the pills, Li Miao felt somewhat more stable, though his burns still ached.

He replied, “I acquired the sword by chance. In truth, its power is much greater than what you saw, but I don’t know the art of weapon control, so I can only use a fraction of its might. If any of those coveting it dare to attack, I’ll lend the sword to you. In your hands, it would be even stronger—your own master’s uncle would be no match.”

He vividly remembered the awe-inspiring power the Purple Sword displayed in Chu Yu’s hands: when the heavenly thunder struck, even peak Returning Origin experts would not dare face it head-on. A mid-grade spirit-treasure was far beyond what a Condensed Reality cultivator could handle.

Consort Qi’s eyes lit up at his words.

She didn’t dare covet Li Miao’s possessions, but if it was just borrowing, she was more than willing to experience such power.

The thought of wielding a spirit-treasure flying sword filled her with anticipation, and she almost wished someone would cause trouble just so she could try it.

Perhaps her thoughts had some effect, for as they turned into an alleyway, a figure suddenly blocked their path.

“Please wait, both of you.”

A man stood in their way.

He wore coarse brown robes and a broad bamboo hat pulled low to obscure most of his face, revealing only a scruffy beard.

He stood at the mouth of the alley, cradling a sword, and spoke in a deep voice, “The sword you used earlier, friend—is it the Purple Sword?”

Li Miao’s brows rose.

This man’s aura was tightly contained, his cultivation unfathomable. He was likely no weaker than Lu Yan.

That he named the Purple Sword so directly suggested he was no ordinary cultivator—likely someone connected to the Red Sky Sword Sect.

“May I ask who you are?” Li Miao asked cautiously.

The man did not answer directly, instead saying, “Rest assured, friend. I’m not here to cause trouble. I only wished to see what sort of person now wields this sword.”

There was a subtle meaning in his words, as if something else was implied.

Li Miao pressed, “It seems you have some connection to the Purple Sword?”

The man replied, “Not so much a connection—I simply recognize it. This sword was once part of a pair: one called Purple Sword, the other Azure Profound. They belonged to my brother and his Dao companion. Two hundred years ago, my brother’s sect was destroyed by the Six Desires Demon Palace, and both swords vanished.”

“Seeing it today by chance, I couldn’t help but think of old friends gone, so I came to meet you.”

With that, he sighed softly.

He had once been intimately familiar with this sword, but after the sect’s destruction, it vanished, eventually ending up in the Red Sky Sword Sect.

Now, it had come into Li Miao’s hands, giving the man a chance to encounter it once again.

Li Miao was greatly surprised.

This man actually knew the original owner of the Purple Sword from two centuries past; he must be at least two or three hundred years old, and his cultivation would surely be above Returning Origin—perhaps even at the Profound Connection level, like Ji Lingyu.

So many great powers had suddenly appeared in tiny Longling—Yang Yan, Ji Lingyu, and now this mysterious man. Li Miao could not help but grumble inwardly.

Aloud, he asked, “Since you have seen me, Senior, what do you think?”

The man in the bamboo hat shook his head slightly. “You are not suited to it. The twin swords Purple and Azure were meant to be wielded as one, requiring two people of a single mind to unleash their full power. You’re a physical cultivator, unfamiliar with sword arts; in your hands, the Purple Sword’s full strength is not even a tenth realized.”

“That’s true enough. I’m sorry to disappoint you, Senior.”

Li Miao did not refute him, for it was the truth.

“It’s fleeting, hardly worth disappointment,” the man said quietly. “Not every treasure finds its perfect master. Most spend long years gathering dust. But when the right person comes along, they will shine with unmatched brilliance, becoming peerless treasures in the world.”

“In your hands, the Purple Sword is merely a blade, but perhaps the next person to possess it will make it part of their very soul.”

With that, he turned and left, vanishing within a few steps among the winding alleys.

His coming and going were as mysterious as his words, leaving a strange impression.

Consort Qi muttered, “How odd. Young Master Li, let’s go.”

“Mm.”

Li Miao glanced in the direction the man had left, deep in thought.

Though he had not tried to seize the sword, his words had subtly suggested that Li Miao should eventually pass it on to someone more suited.

That, Li Miao felt, he could do.

He had never been especially attached to the Purple Sword; he only kept it because he lacked a better weapon. If, in the future, he found a more suitable spirit-treasure saber, it would be no great matter to give the sword to the right person.

The two returned to their small courtyard in the northern part of the city without incident, relieved not to have been stopped or robbed along the way.

As soon as they were back, Li Miao immediately took several pills and sat down to tend his wounds.

He had already taken Liu Xuanfeng’s pills earlier; these were left by Sun He, and were of slightly better quality. Upon swallowing them, their effects quickly spread through his meridians and flesh, mending his injuries.

Consort Qi did not leave, remaining in the room to guard against any would-be attackers.

Though Li Miao’s wounds were not light, the most serious were the impacts from the fire serpents and the two times he had endured the Blazing Soul Cleave.

Both injuries were burns, far simpler than the variety of wounds he had sustained last time fighting more than a dozen Sun Clan cultivators. Now, he need only expel the fire poison, making recovery less complicated.

With the medicine at work and his genetically enhanced healing, his aura soon stabilized. The skin on his body began to regenerate at an astonishing speed.

Layer after layer of charred skin peeled away, along with the tattered, flame-burned clothes, revealing fresh wheat-colored flesh beneath.

Consort Qi watched silently. When the last of the blackened grime was gone, she realized he was nearly naked, his solid muscle and robust physique plainly visible. Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away.

Yet after a while, seeing that Li Miao showed no signs of ending his meditation, she couldn’t help but glance back.

Since childhood, she had practiced the Lesser Yin arts. When her sect fell on hard times at age eight, she followed Liu Xuanfeng to Wen Cui Brothel, where she and her sisters made a living by running the establishment.

Over the years, she had seen countless men: rich or poor, handsome or plain, tall or short, young or old—all came to Wen Cui for a single purpose: pleasure.

As the courtesan queen, she was the object of unending pursuit.

Though she neither sold her art nor her body, and only engaged in dual cultivation once a month to advance her practice, that did not deter the endless stream of men offering her treasures and riches for a night’s favor.

Yet in all these years, she had never met a man like Li Miao.

She knew she was not the world’s greatest beauty, but few in all Longling could compare.

Yet Li Miao had never once given her a second glance. Were it not for Liu Xuanfeng’s intervention in saving Guo’er, Li Miao might even have remained openly hostile toward her.