Chapter 13: Do You Yearn to Be Strong?

"Watch closely now!" Fan Zifan patted Qiao Yu's shoulder with a look of gratification. "Your master is getting serious. Focus, and grasp whatever insights you can as quickly as possible."

Qiao Yu nodded, already numb to it all.

During this time, Uncle Fan had uttered these sorts of words many times, but each time, all Qiao Yu ever saw was his master toying with Uncle Shan.

Was this what a duel between masters looked like?

This simple, stripped-down confrontation?

Qiao Yu was perplexed, yet felt asking would make him seem foolish. So, whenever Fan Zifan repeated those remarks, he would nod furiously, like a pecking chick, desperate to prove his respect for his teachers.

"Can you follow what's happening?" Huo Yongfei asked him.

Qiao Yu wilted into silence.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and on the ground, people were sent tumbling.

Wen Jinge lay on the ground with a wicked smile. Gouchen Sword had already flown out again, circling the edges of the formation, lightning slashing down in spectacular arcs.

Shan Hongxing frowned slightly as he looked at the one trapped within his formation. Last night, there hadn't been thunder and lightning—had he made a mistake in the drawing?

He eyed the circle of electricity warily; advancing or retreating were both difficult choices, and he worried how Wen Jinge would eventually escape.

But Wen Jinge, completely carefree, eyed Gouchen Sword with delight. "A sword untested by lightning will never become a true weapon. It's gained a few new layers, as expected."

Shan Hongxing was left speechless.

"You brat!" she called out to Qiao Yu. "Reflect well on this. In the face of absolute strength, everything else is mere illusion. This is what your master wants you to learn."

Qiao Yu drew a deep breath. Was his master finally acknowledging him?

[You can't act friendly toward him. Don't forget your character!]

Wen Jinge showed not the slightest urgency. "Relax, he'll give up soon enough."

"Nonexistent" fell silent. As for Wen Jinge, she crooked a finger, Gouchen Sword returned to her hand, and with a wave, the blade pointed straight at Shan Hongxing.

"With your meager cultivation, how do you expect to fight me?"

A wave of shock surged in Shan Hongxing's heart. Within the sect, only Wen Jinge possessed strength above the third tier. As an old rival, he had noticed during recruitment that she was now only at fifth-tier strength. Moreover, it was rumored that after leaving the Burning Heaven Sect, her memory had become patchy—likely, her cultivation had suffered due to the ordeal.

He should not have doubted the spectacle from yesterday, but Wen Jinge had been so quiet upon her return, which was unusual.

Since she had provoked him and he happened to be suspicious, he had no choice but to use the formation to anger her and see her true strength.

Yet, instead of revealing her true form, she displayed the power of a second-tier master.

How could this be possible!

While dodging the blasts of energy from Gouchen Sword, he glanced at Wen Jinge, who was twirling her fingers within the formation. Their exchange was like a cat toying with its prey.

Only, he was the cat.

A cat, delighted to play, for it had its master's company.

But Shan Hongxing had to use his full strength, or he would lose everything.

He could sense that Wen Jinge harbored genuine killing intent toward him.

Boom!

Boom, boom, boom!

The distant mountains exploded one after another, sending sand and stones flying and whipping up a wild gale.

Both layers of the barrier Fan Zifan had set up were shattered, but Huo Yongfei quickly patched them, saving Qiao Yu from being swept away.

"Senior Brother Sect Leader, my spirit stones will be for nothing," he lamented, pinning all his hopes on Qiao Yu. He wiped away imaginary tears pitifully. "Dear nephew, help your uncle out—won't you ask your master to lose, just this once?"

Qiao Yu stood there dumbfounded, uncertain what to do. He looked pleadingly at Huo Yongfei, but then suddenly clutched his stomach, squatting down. The words he meant to say changed: "Sect Uncle, I'm... I'm hot."

Fan Zifan blinked in disbelief, thinking he had misheard.

Huo Yongfei gave him a sharp look, his expression tightening. "Sit cross-legged. Meditate!"

Qiao Yu obeyed, and as he did, he recalled the scene of being carried into the sky by the black-robed figure, and gradually his mind quieted.

"Good heavens!" Fan Zifan rubbed his face in disbelief. "Is an innate sword embryo really this terrifying? One word and he's enlightened!"

"It's mostly because his master was willing to put on such a fight. If it were anyone else, they might never see a second-tier master display her skills in their lifetime."

"But..." Fan Zifan hesitated, lowering his voice. "Isn't Little Wen only able to use fifth-tier strength?"

"Don't look at me like that, Senior Brother. When Brother Ai asked me for medicine, and I heard it was for Little Wen, I refused, so he explained the whole story."

Huo Yongfei's face grew more anxious. "The fewer people who know, the better. Who else knows?"

"At this point, of the six of us, probably only Song Huan, that dolt, is in the dark. But he does know about Wen's amnesia. I told him not to bother her. When our master was alive, he only said she would change, but who knew if that would be for better or worse?"

"And you still dared to bet on her."

"Well, fortune favors the bold!" He laughed and cried at once. "Eh? What's happening with Little Wen?"

Gouchen Sword was off attacking Shan Hongxing, and within the formation, Wen Jinge had fallen.

She coughed up blood, dousing the thunder around her manifestation. "That hurts like hell."

[You brought this on yourself!]

"You ungrateful thing." Flat on her back like a cripple, only her fingers and eyes could move. "Who do you think I'm doing this for? All just to become an arrogant, domineering villain and help you get free sooner."

"Nonexistent" had nothing to say.

"Master!" Qiao Yu hurried over to help her up, but when he saw her staring at his clothes, he awkwardly let go and handed her over to Huo Yongfei. "I'm sorry, Master."

"Did you understand?" Wen Jinge asked him.

"I... don't know." Qiao Yu lowered his head, glancing toward where Shan Hongxing was still dueling with Gouchen Sword. "If Uncle Shan stops fighting, will you feel better, Master?"

"What did I teach you before?"

He kept his head down, bent at the waist, aware that her gaze was waiting above him. "Master said, in the face of absolute strength, everything else is illusion."

"Then do you think your master won or lost?"

He struggled. Master seemed to have lost, but her sword seemed to have won.

"Forget it," Wen Jinge said impatiently. "Second Senior Brother."

Fan Zifan, flush with victory, piped up, "Here, here!"

"Kick him for me."

"On it!" Fan Zifan sent him sprawling. "Anything else?"

Wen Jinge rolled her eyes. "No, that's all. Stand back."

"On it!"

Qiao Yu brushed the dust off himself and knelt down again. "Your disciple is slow—please enlighten me, Master."

"Do you feel it now?"

He was puzzled.

"Do you yearn to become strong?"

He thought of the black-robed figure from the night before, then of Wen Jinge's earlier, awe-inspiring presence. He nodded. "I yearn for it."

"And now?"

Qiao Yu noticed Wen Jinge's gaze fixed on his abdomen. The pain there worsened, and he gritted his teeth. "It hurts."

"Would you like it not to hurt?"

"Yes."

"Then go fight with your Uncle Shan."

"…What?"

"When you're about to die, you won't have time to worry about a stomachache!"