Chapter 61: The Shield of Qi and the Silver Hair Part 1

Feng Yun’ai felt a heavy sense of uncertainty. With so many martial artists gathered here, Sang Chencao’s attempt to pluck the blossom would be difficult beyond measure. This was especially true because as the tournament progressed, the martial arts of those defending the stage would only become more transcendent.

She had never witnessed it herself, but she had heard Feng Rong say that anyone capable of plucking the blossom could trade over a hundred blows with a master. Such a person’s opponent would be anything but ordinary.

Even if Sang Chencao had been personally trained by Wen Lanxin and possessed extraordinary skills, she lacked the decades of experience required to overcome these seasoned veterans of the Jianghu. Unless, of course, what Sang Chencao had revealed of herself was merely a small corner of a vast wilderness, with depths even more unfathomable hidden away.

If that were the case, how terrifying must Wen Lanxin truly be?

Feng Yun’ai stared fixedly at the Golden-Stone Heavy Sword and the infinitesimal Golden-Wanderer Eternal Flower resting upon its blade. It was hard to see clearly from this distance, but when the flower fully bloomed, its stamen was said to look like inlaid gold and jade, shimmering brilliantly under the sun. Even from far away, one would be able to see that glittering golden light.

“Xiuxiu, when shall I go?” Sang Chencao asked again.

“I do not know, but if you wish to pluck the blossom, I fear you will have to duel Zhou Gui,” Feng Yun’ai replied, holding her veiled hat steady as she looked up.

“Zhou Gui would never hand over the position of Alliance Leader for nothing. When the time comes, I shall go up and test her,” Sang Chencao said slowly, sounding entirely confident in her victory.

In Feng Yun’ai’s eyes, this was overconfidence. Stunned, she said coldly, “I thought you would have some other scheme.”

“What slippery little trick have you conjured up for me now?” Sang Chencao let out a low chuckle, drawing out her words with a lazy, melodic tone.

“Is that not your usual way of doing things?” Feng Yun’ai asked softly.

“I won’t make you suffer this time,” Sang Chencao said. “Nor will I drag you into a sea of misery. Just rest easy.”

It wasn’t that Feng Yun’ai couldn’t find peace; rather, in matters like this… she actually trusted Sang Chencao.

On the stage, the disciple from Guanfeng Gate cupped his hands toward the crowd and bowed. “I hope you will forgive my clumsy display. I wonder which senior is willing to exchange blows with me?”

The crowd below was rowdy, with people shouting encouragement to one another.

Feng Yun’ai looked toward Zhou Gui’s side and noticed something strange. The leaders of the Chuanyun Sect, Guanfeng Gate, and the Hengshan Sect all looked stern and somber, rarely speaking to Zhou Gui. It was odd, considering how the Chuanyun Sect had supposedly parted ways with Zhou Gui’s people at the base of Yellow Sand Cliff. It made no sense for them to return and help her set up the formation—that entire affair remained incomprehensible.

After a long silence, a rogue fighter who had been sitting idly on the eaves flew onto the stage. The moment his feet touched the ground, he unsheathed his sword, already poised for battle.

The blades clashed with a resounding clang, silver light sparking as if day and night had reversed and moonlight were spilling forth. The two fighters’ inner qi collided on the Sword Trial Stage, creating a pressure that sent the hair of those nearby flying, feeling like sharp arrows pressing against their faces.

The vibrating sword qi condensed into glows of blue and grey, each brilliant in its own right. The Guanfeng Gate disciple’s inner qi was deep blue, like surging ocean waves rising in layers. Meanwhile, the rogue fighter’s cultivation was chaotic; his black inner qi felt both righteous and evil, hiding a lethal intent that was difficult to discern.

After another clash, the rogue fighter suddenly leaped into the air, seemingly aiming for the hilt of the Golden-Stone Heavy Sword. The Guanfeng Gate disciple pursued him instantly.

Unexpectedly, the rogue fighter flipped in mid-air and struck a palm against the disciple’s chest, using the momentum to leap even higher. The disciple nearly tumbled off the high stage—an automatic loss—but he managed to halt his steps at the very edge and lashed out with a technique that mimicked his opponent’s.

The rogue fighter was mere inches from touching the Golden-Wanderer Eternal Flower. The crowd watched with bated breath, many of them rubbing their hands together, unable to resist the urge to jump up and stop him.

Fortunately, the Guanfeng Gate disciple had some skill; he managed to forcibly drag the rogue fighter back down.

Possessing such chaotic internal power, the rogue fighter was clearly not of a generous or mild temperament. He gave up on plucking the blossom for a moment and instead began executing increasingly tricky sword patterns. Before long, he knocked the Guanfeng Gate disciple off the stage.

The Sect Leader of Guanfeng Gate caught his disciple. His eyes were somewhat wooden, yet he showed no sign of anger or humiliation. It made sense; as a Sect Leader, he was forbidden from competing on stage according to the rules. He could only give a slight shake of his head to the people around him.

Sang Chencao let out a cold snort and leaned close to Feng Yun’ai’s ear. “Xiuxiu, have you seen this person in the Jianghu Records?”

The Jianghu Records consisted mostly of text; even when there were portraits, they were never perfectly accurate.

Feng Yun’ai watched for a long time before saying with uncertainty, “Is that Zhao Liu, the ‘Broken Tide Sword’?”

“A fine memory, Xiuxiu!” Sang Chencao’s voice rose slightly. “Now let’s see who goes up next.”

Since the Guanfeng Gate disciple had fallen, the rogue fighter now had the chance to pluck the blossom. His figure moved eerily as he climbed upward, nearly touching the flower’s leaves. However, his expression suddenly shifted, filled with disbelief.

At that moment, a barbed whip lashed forward, wrapping tightly around his waist. Like a divine dragon flicking its tail, the whip slammed him into the ground.

It happened so fast, and the strength behind the whip was so fierce and ruthless, that the rogue fighter couldn’t break free. Before he could even strike back, he was already outside the bounds of the stage.

Sang Chencao laughed again. “Anyone can go up to stop others from plucking the blossom. However, there can never be more than six people on the stage at once. Those are the rules.”

“But if the first five people are no match for a newcomer, yet they refuse to leave the stage, wouldn’t the newcomer be able to pluck the blossom easily? What would be the point for those coming later?” Feng Yun’ai frowned.

“Look closely, Xiuxiu.” Sang Chencao pointed at the Golden-Stone Heavy Sword. “There is a current of qi surrounding the blade. They can get close at most, but they cannot easily pluck the blossom. The time it takes to break that defense is enough for an opponent to find an opening.”

Feng Yun’ai focused her gaze and indeed saw a faint, almost invisible current of energy. It was a pale, translucent white, difficult to spot unless one was looking for it. Only the person attempting to pluck the blossom would feel the force of that resistance.

No wonder the rogue fighter had looked so strange earlier; he had hit a barrier.