Young hero, stay put and don't be reckless.

Chapter 76 Unconventional

Jiang Xun looked up and froze.

The woman was in her early twenties, dressed in white as snow, with black hair as dark as ink and skin as smooth as jade.

Her features were cool and aloof, like those of a person in a painting, yet she possessed a pair of extremely bright eyes, as if they held a pool of autumn water.

She walked very lightly, her skirt barely moving, as if she were floating on water.

Jiang Xun stared, completely mesmerized.

He had never seen a woman like this before—no, he had.

That female scholar disguised as a man had such a pair of eyes.

At that time, she was wearing a blue dress and a square scarf, hiding all her radiance.

So this is what she looks like.

So this is what she looks like when she wears women's clothing.

Seeing his silly expression, Li Tang reached out and gave him a hard pinch on the waist.

"Hiss—" Jiang Xun gasped, almost crying out, "What are you doing?"

"Your eyeballs are about to pop out," Li Tang said expressionlessly.

Jiang Xun blushed, quickly sat up straight, and casually made up a story: "I just felt... this person looked a little familiar."

Li Tang glanced at him sideways, said nothing, but the corners of her mouth turned down slightly.

The woman walked to the front of the stage, glanced at the crowd below, and nodded slightly.

"Gentlemen, I am Ye Qingying, a disciple of Mirror Lake."

The voice was clear and cool, neither too loud nor too soft, yet it reached everyone's ears with crystal clarity, like a mountain spring falling on a stone slab, crisp and bright.

A murmur rippled through the audience.

"The Fairy of Mirror Lake!"

"As expected, it lives up to its reputation..."

"With such beauty, she truly deserves to be called the most beautiful woman in the martial arts world."

Ye Qingying remained expressionless. After her voice subsided slightly, she continued, "Today's challenge is to find a destined person for Long Jing. My master entrusted this important task to me, and I dare not slack off."

She turned and bowed towards the main judges on the stage, "These are today's judges—"

This is Senior Song Yuanshan, the leader of the Qingxia Sect.

An elderly man in gray stood up and cupped his hands in greeting to the crowd.

He was in his sixties, with a thin face and bright, lamp-like eyes. A single glance from him made one feel as if they could see right through him.

The Qingxia Sect was not well-known in the martial arts world, but everyone present knew the name Song Yuanshan.

He was a top expert thirty years ago, and now his inner strength is so profound that he has probably reached the point of returning to simplicity.

"This is a veteran of the martial arts world, Senior Zhou Huai-ren."

Another old man stood up. He was about fifty years old, with a refined appearance, three long wisps of beard on his chin, and wore a slightly worn blue robe. He looked more like a scholar than a martial artist.

He smiled and nodded to everyone, looking amiable, but being on par with Song Yuanshan, he was no ordinary person.

"This is our sect's acting leader, Uncle-Master Nie Mingfei."

The person in the middle stood up—it was the woman in black that Jiang Xun had noticed earlier.

She stood up, nodded slightly, and sat back down without saying a word.

No one in the audience dared to object.

After the three were seated, Ye Qingying continued, "Everyone here is an outstanding member of the younger generation in the martial arts world. Today's competition will end when the point is reached. The seniors will comprehensively consider everyone's strength and potential to ultimately decide who owns the Dragon Crystal."

She paused, her gaze slowly sweeping across the crowd—it seemed to linger on Jiang Xun's side for a moment, but then again, it seemed not.

"The rules are simple. Everyone may come up on stage to challenge. The winner will defend their title, and the loser will be eliminated. Each person may challenge a maximum of three times. Before sunset, the person who wins three consecutive matches will have a chance to win a Dragon Crystal."

The audience immediately became excited.

"Great! This rule is fair!"

"Who goes first?"

The crowd looked at each other, none of them willing to be the first to step forward.

It's good to be in the spotlight, but if you're the first to step up, you'll have to face a barrage of challenges from everyone else.

Winning one game isn't difficult, winning two is alright, but what about three?

Even the strongest internal energy cannot withstand such depletion.

Not to mention the real powerhouses are still sitting at the bottom—whoever goes up first is just a stepping stone for others.

"I'll do it!"

A voice rang out, and everyone looked over to see a burly man stride onto the stage.

He was in his thirties, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, and a broadsword hanging at his waist; he looked quite imposing.

"Lingyun Sect, Zhao Binquan." He clasped his hands in a fist salute to the audience, "Who would like to come up and offer their guidance?"

Before he finished speaking, another person jumped onto the stage.

He was in his early twenties, thin, and dressed in a strange silk outfit with insect and snake patterns embroidered on the collar and cuffs—he was the Golden Silkworm Sect disciple that Jiang Xun had seen on the street yesterday.

"The Golden Silkworm Sect, Xu Kun."

Zhao Binquan looked him up and down, and his lips curled slightly—what skills could this skinny little guy possibly have?

"Please." Zhao Binquan drew his sword, its blade gleaming.

Xu Kun didn't hold back either. With a swift movement, his palms flew, carrying a faint, sweet, and metallic scent in the wind.

Zhao Binquan swung his broadsword to parry, his blade whistling through the air, his swordsmanship fierce and ruthless, clearly indicating he followed a brutal and forceful style.

Xu Kun, however, did not engage him in a direct confrontation. His movements were elusive, dodging left and right like an eel.

The two fought back and forth for more than a dozen rounds.

Zhao Binquan fought with increasing speed and skill, each strike faster than the last, gradually gaining the upper hand.

The audience could clearly see that the Golden Silkworm Sect disciple's martial arts were mediocre and he was no match for them; his defeat was only a matter of time.

But at that moment, Zhao Binquan suddenly stopped, and his sword strike faltered.

He shook his head, his eyes began to glaze over, and his steps became unsteady.

"What's going on?" someone in the audience exclaimed.

Zhao Binquan wanted to raise the knife, but his arm was too weak to lift.

He stared wide-eyed at Xu Kun opposite him, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but his body went limp first, and he collapsed onto the stage with a "thud".

The entire room fell silent.

Xu Kun clapped his hands and smiled faintly: "Thank you for your kind offer."

The audience erupted in uproar.

"What happened? He didn't even touch Zhao Binquan, so how did he fall down?"

"It's poison! The Golden Silkworm Cult uses poison!"

"Using poison in a martial arts competition? Isn't that cheating?"

Xu Kun's expression remained unchanged; he only looked towards the judges' panel.

Nie Mingfei frowned slightly, whispered a few words to the other two judges, and finally nodded: "Golden Silkworm Sect wins."

The rules only say to stop when you've touched something, but they don't say you can't use poison.

Besides, the Golden Silkworm Sect relies on this skill for its livelihood, so we can't let them throw away their signature technique.

Although the audience was dissatisfied, they had no choice but to accept it since the judges had spoken.

"Anyone else want to come up?" Xu Kun stood on the stage, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, a hint of smugness in his eyes.

For a moment, no one responded—not because they couldn't beat him, but because they were wary of his unpredictable and unpredictable methods.

"I'll do it."

A deep voice rang out. Everyone looked in the direction of the voice, and the young man in black in the corner stood up.

He walked onto the stage unhurriedly, each step measured and precise.

The air within three feet of him seemed to have cooled down a bit.

"Northern Frontier, Tuoba Feng."

The sound wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.

The audience immediately began to whisper among themselves.

"Tuoba? Aren't they powerful nobles from the northern border?"

"A member of the Tuoba clan? What's he doing here?"

Why would Mirror Lake invite outsiders?

The discussion spread like ripples on water, some expressing surprise, some curiosity, and some displeasure.

Several young men in brocade robes exchanged glances, a hint of disdain on their lips.

Jiang Xun leaned back in his chair, a thought stirring within him.

It seems that Jinghu is generous not only to itself, but to everyone, and is very unconventional.