My Demon Lord Junior Sister Is Pretending to Be Good to Seduce Me - Chapter 42

“She is fighting with all her might,” Mu Xuewei said. “She has terrible luck, encountering an opponent like Li Feng right from the start.”

“Shuiyuntian has always been ranked last among the seven great immortal families and never participates in the Deer-Chasing Battle. Today, she is here representing Shuiyuntian to compete, and she will fight desperately to win this arena match.”

Lin Yumo raised an eyebrow, her opinion of Li Shuangjiang shifting slightly, with a hint of admiration in her eyes.

Li Shuangjiang raised her hand to catch the blade that Li Feng had brought down. Blood trickled down her wrist. Gritting her teeth, she flicked two fingers with her other hand, and the twenty-four scattered flying swords on the ground all simultaneously rushed towards Li Feng.

Wei Qingyi leaped down from the elders’ seats. The twenty-four flying swords abruptly stopped. She quietly commanded, “Enough—”

“The winner of this match is Li Shuangjiang!”

Wei Qingyi pulled Li Shuangjiang out of Li Feng’s attack range. Li Feng set his saber beside him, his hand resting on the hilt, looking bewildered and surprised.

He hadn’t quite realized what had happened. In his view, he had only used seventy percent of his strength just now. If Li Shuangjiang still hadn’t conceded, he definitely would have broken one of her arms before letting her leave the stage.

Li Shuangjiang looked at her hand. A gash of exposed flesh was on her palm, and blood was welling up around the wound. She slowly raised her eyelids, revealing crimson eyes. The twenty-four suspended flying swords were lined up side by side, and she collected them one by one back into her hand.

Lin Yumo narrowed her eyes. No wonder her Shizun (master) had personally intervened. One second later, Li Feng might have died under the attack of her twenty-four flying swords.

How ruthless, Li Shuangjiang.

The gong sounded again. The disciple suspended above the arena announced, “The next match—Yun You of Penglai Island versus Lin Yumo of Xuanling Mountain—”

As the disciple flicked his sleeve, the bloodstains and parasol tree leaves on the arena instantly vanished without a trace, leaving an ample, clear space for Yun You and Lin Yumo.

The moment she stepped onto the arena, Lin Yumo drew her Kunwu Sword. The usually frivolous air she carried immediately dissipated, replaced by a deadly seriousness.

In contrast, Yun You, across from her, opened his folding fan. The fan’s sharp silver edges gleamed with cold light. Yun You held the fan up to cover his mouth and chuckled mockingly, saying, “I already knew that Miss Mu of Xuanling Mountain possessed the beauty to topple cities, but I didn’t expect her shijie (senior sister) to also be a great beauty.”

What the heck.

Lin Yumo’s mind was in turmoil, and goosebumps rose all over her body.

She had never known what was truly creepy since she was a child. Even in her previous life when she committed suicide on Jingxue Peak, she hadn’t even blinked.

This disgusted her, making her scalp tingle.

She twitched the corner of her mouth and couldn’t help but curse, “Ugly freak.”

Sure enough, when Yun You heard those three words from Lin Yumo, his face instantly turned green, his mouth twisted with anger.

“You are absolutely asking for death—!” Yun You swung the folding fan in his hand and attacked Lin Yumo.

Lin Yumo raised the sword in her hand, meeting him cleanly.

Her sword strikes were neither fast nor slow, neither light nor heavy, yet they were precisely able to make every force collide with Yun You’s silver fan, affecting Yun You’s arm, numbing it, and taking revenge for last night’s grievances.

Yun You grimaced in pain. A cunning look flashed in his eyes. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the silver fan out. He pushed off with his foot, his body leaping into the air. He caught the silver fan mid-air. As his sleeve fluttered, thousands of silver needles flew out from the fan’s spokes.

The silver needles were as tiny and delicate as a feather, practically invisible to the naked eye under the sunlight.

The Kunwu Sword whirled in Lin Yumo’s hand, forming a protective barrier of gangqi (internal energy), shielding Lin Yumo within.

The silver fan closed, its surface transforming into a blade, which he gripped in his hand and stabbed towards Lin Yumo.

Lin Yumo raised her sword to defend. Her strength was continuously draining, and sweat dripped from her forehead.

The silver needles were too fine. Although she blocked most of them, one still embedded itself right in the center of her collarbone.

Now she could only be thankful that the villain Yun You had coated them with a Dispersing Power Powder (Huagong San) and not some deadly poison.

The Kunwu Sword scraped past the silver fan, the tip of the Kunwu Sword flicking, vertically slashing across the silver fan, leaving a long scratch. A part of the scratch, however, had been cut through by the Kunwu, letting light pass through.

Lin Yumo slapped her own wrist, forcing the silver needle out and throwing it back at Yun You.

“I’m done playing with you.”

Lin Yumo leaped up, rapidly approaching Yun You. Her position was almost invisible, only her afterimages could be clearly seen on the arena.

First, she slapped Yun You across the face, venting her anger. Then, she kicked him squarely in the chest, sending him flying out.

Before Yun You could land, Lin Yumo approached him again, raising her leg and bringing it down in a chop, giving Yun You a “helping hand” to make him land faster.

Yun You collapsed on the ground, spitting out a mouthful of blood. His vision was a kaleidoscope of colors, and his mind was ringing.

Lin Yumo was just about to use her sword to frighten him again when she heard a “Dang—” sound.

“Lin Yumo of Xuanling Mountain—Wins—”

Lin Yumo wiped the sweat from her forehead, curved her lips into a smile, and reluctantly sheathed her sword, walking down the stage.

Just as she was one step away from Mu Xuewei, Lin Yumo suddenly stumbled towards Mu Xuewei, as if she hadn’t stood firm or had tripped.

“Junior Sister Mu, Senior Sister has no strength left,” Lin Yumo murmured, her head resting on Mu Xuewei’s shoulder, her voice softening.

Mu Xuewei placed her hand on Lin Yumo’s pulse, then lightly pinched Lin Yumo’s waist. “You were hit by Dispersing Power Powder, not Muscle Weakening Powder (Ruanjin San).”

Lin Yumo bit Mu Xuewei’s shoulder through the cloth, as if venting her frustration. Why did Mu Xuewei have to expose her?

She straightened up and took Mu Xuewei’s hand, then felt satisfied as she watched the matches on the stage.

…

“The Tidal Wave Sword? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it.” Ji Nangui’s eyes lit up, a hint of nostalgia in her expression.

“Ah… it hasn’t appeared for a long time.” Wei Qingyi sat with one leg crossed over the other, holding a teacup, speaking casually.

Ji Nangui watched Shen Zhuli wield her sword, finding it quite charming, and couldn’t help but chuckle, “The sword moves are decent, but unfortunately, they’re not very practiced yet.”

She turned her head to look at Wei Qingyi, then suddenly her smile froze, and she paused.

Wei Qingyi was still holding the teacup but showed no intention of drinking. Instead, all her attention was on the red-robed figure on the arena, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Ji Nangui’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt a little sting in her nose. She knew that Wei Qingyi looked like this when she was worried.

Many years ago, she had seen Wei Qingyi look like this too.

Only back then, Wei Qingyi’s eyes were on her.

Now they were not.

Her gaze slowly dropped, shifting to Wei Qingyi’s sheathed sword. The sword tassel had been replaced. It wasn’t the jade pendant she had given Wei Qingyi back then.

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