When the Immortal Venerable Picked-Up the Demon Cub - Chapter 34

Seeing Zhu Ning’s agitation, Lin Xiayan cast a sidelong glance, curious about what made Han Xiaoxiao so special. But the moment she looked, she sensed something was off.

Han Xiaoxiao had just feinted with her sword. Logically, Lü Zhao should have been on guard or looking for an opening to regain the upper hand. Instead, after wiping the blood from the scratch, Lü Zhao smeared some on her sword. The blade itself didn’t change, but Lin Xiayan clearly saw a faint sword aura shimmer around it.

In matches like this, the swords shouldn’t be sharpened. The scratch Han Xiaoxiao had drawn earlier was likely just from excessive force.

“Something’s wrong,” Lin Xiayan whispered to Zhu Ning. The sword aura was subtle, but Zhu Ning saw it too. Her face darkened instantly, and she moved to stop the match. But Lin Xiayan blocked her again.

“Not yet,” Lin Xiayan said. Her tone dripped with sarcasm. “A match at their level won’t draw blood from Zhen Sui Mountain. But your disciple Little Su Mi won’t be so lucky later.” She couldn’t resist bringing up Little Su Mi again, as if it were a joke she had to repeat at every opportunity.

Zhu Ning pursed her lips, still worried about Han Xiaoxiao. She focused her gaze again and realized Lin Xiayan was right: even with the blade sharpened, Lü Zhao didn’t dare strike a true blow. Instead, she was using the sword’s aura to intimidate Han Xiaoxiao and disrupt her rhythm.

Taking a bold guess, Zhu Ning sent a telepathic message to Han Xiaoxiao, urging her not to fear the sharpened blade and to maintain her original rhythm.

Han Xiaoxiao, who had been fighting cautiously, relaxed after receiving this reassuring advice. The situation immediately shifted. Lü Zhao was forced into a series of retreats. After stubbornly parrying a few more strikes, she was finally defeated and plunged into the water, sending up a small splash.

This victory greatly boosted the morale of Yun Cang Mountain. The disciples rose to their feet, cheering wildly. The once-proud noble clans, who had been forced to swallow their pride under Zhen Sui Mountain’s dominance these past few days, now saw their own side triumph in successive matches. The Yun Cang Mountain disciples straightened their backs with renewed confidence.

Zhu Ning was immensely gratified. While previous matches had seen both wins and losses, none had been as spectacular as this one. However, victory didn’t mean she could ignore the cheating. As she stood up to confront the Zhen Sui Mountain faction, Lin Xiayan reached out and tugged at the hem of her skirt.

“Going now won’t get you anywhere,” Lin Xiayan said, her voice soft and childlike, a sound that always brought Zhu Ning a sense of comfort. “Even though Lü Zhao sharpened her sword, she didn’t actually hurt Han Xiaoxiao. Besides, we won the match.”

Zhu Ning calmed down, realizing Xiayan was right. She waved her sleeve and sat back down, turning her attention to the remaining matches.

The following rounds mostly featured disciples from the other major sects, with few participants from Zhen Sui Mountain or Yun Cang Mountain. Zhu Ning watched casually, finishing a plate of pastries until she was so full she couldn’t even drink her tea.

Lin Xiayan, feeling too embarrassed to watch, refocused on the stage. She mentally rehearsed how she should perform when her turn came: not too flashy, but not a loss either, and without using her cultivation, with so many eyes watching.

After several uneventful matches, it was finally Xia Meng versus Su Mi.

Lin Xiayan didn’t hesitate. Her entire attention locked onto this match. She wanted to see what tricks Xia Meng had up her sleeve, and more importantly, what Su Mi possessed beyond her Immortal Bone that made Zhu Ning admire her so much.

“Which eye saw me admiring her?” Zhu Ning retorted. “All disciples must be treated with respect!”

Xia Meng’s arrogant demeanor remained unchanged, as if all her resentment toward Zhu Ning had been transferred to Su Mi. Having heard of Xia Meng’s reputation, Su Mi harbored her own dislike for the woman. The moment they stepped onto the platform, the air crackled with tension, their gazes locked in mutual hostility.

Su Mi, at least, maintained a semblance of composure, offering a polite greeting. Xia Meng nodded dismissively before demanding the match begin. Zhu Ning impatiently announced the start, her eyes fixed intently on their every move. Her clear, focused gaze only enhanced her already peerless beauty.

Xia Meng and Lü Zhao shared a similar fighting style: launching fierce attacks from the start. Zhu Ning had to admit this approach could crush an opponent’s momentum and quickly establish dominance. However, against a patient opponent willing to play along, such aggression would inevitably falter.

Su Mi had clearly anticipated this. She neither rushed to counterattack nor struggled to defend. Though she didn’t draw her blade, she skillfully evaded all of Xia Meng’s attacks, seemingly without effort.

Xia Meng was already breathing hard. She never expected Su Mi to take this approach. When her final strike missed, Su Mi seized the opportunity, her blade slicing through Xia Meng’s sleeve. Fortunately, the ancient custom of wearing layers upon layers of clothing meant no skin was exposed.

Caught off guard, Xia Meng stumbled back several steps, nearly colliding with the railing. In that critical moment, she mirrored Lü Zhao’s earlier move, biting her fingertip and drawing the blood across her sword. Instantly, a surge of sword energy erupted. The entire sequence unfolded in mere seconds.

Normally, drawing a sword’s edge required an elaborate ritual. What dark magic was this, allowing her to sharpen the blade instantly?

It was so swift, you’d miss it in the blink of an eye.

Zhu Ning immediately sent a telepathic warning to Su Mi, who had already sensed the danger. She retreated rapidly, refusing to press her advantage. Xia Meng lunged forward, her longsword slashing toward Su Mi. Each strike carried relentless sword energy, making Su Mi struggle to defend. Several bloody streaks appeared on her body.

Yet Xia Meng never landed a decisive blow, as if waiting for Su Mi to throw herself off the platform. But Su Mi would never allow herself to lose to such an arrogant opponent, especially in front of Zhu Ning. Even as her strength waned, she refused to yield.

Lin Xiayan frowned, struggling to understand what Su Mi was clinging to. Su Mi was already Zhu Ning’s disciple, unlike herself, who still needed to prove her worth through this competition. Was this stubbornness just a way to show Zhu Ning her determination?

Lin Xiayan pursed her lips, unimpressed by such behavior. But when she glanced over, she saw that Zhu Ning was genuinely moved, her eyes fixed intently on the match.

Xia Meng, always arrogant and domineering, grew furious at Su Mi’s refusal to yield. “Since you won’t take the chance I gave you, don’t blame me for knocking you off the stage.”

Xia Meng channeled her power, her sword swirling into a flower-like pattern as sword qi surged toward Su Mi. The wooden sword in Su Mi’s hand shattered into splinters before the blade even touched her.

“Stop!” Zhu Ning leaped to her feet, her voice amplified by her cultivation, echoing across the entire arena. Lin Xiayan glanced toward the Zhen Sui Mountain delegation and saw no surprise on their faces, nor any intention to intervene.

In her panic, Zhu Ning forgot to use her cultivation to intervene. She grabbed Lin Xiayan’s sleeve, her stunning beauty causing Lin Xiayan to curse inwardly. She couldn’t use magic with so many eyes on her. Even if she could block the attack for Su Mi, it would only give Zhen Sui Mountain grounds for complaint later.

For the first time, Lin Xiayan was cruel to Zhu Ning. Though she was usually cold-hearted, this cruelty felt strangely unfamiliar. The urgency in Zhu Ning’s eyes gradually turned cold.

Meanwhile, Su Mi stubbornly forced the sword back three inches with her cultivation, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow. Xia Meng, convinced Su Mi was too injured to continue, had relaxed her guard. In that moment of carelessness, Su Mi pushed her off the platform, ending the farce.

Ignoring the stares, Zhu Ning rushed onto the stage and helped carry the injured Su Mi down with several other disciples. Su Mi’s face was pale from blood loss. Clutching her bleeding wound, her first words were, “Honored Master, I didn’t disgrace you.”

Tears welled in Zhu Ning’s eyes, overwhelmed by emotion and unsure what to say. Yet a chill ran through her heart. Was Lin Xiayan still after Su Mi’s Immortal Bone? she wondered. Could she be planning to kill Su Mi first to seize it directly?

The more Zhu Ning considered it, the more plausible it seemed. Wiping away her tears, she rose to her feet, venting her fury at Zhen Sui Mountain.

“Is this the sincerity Zhen Sui Mountain offers for this competition?” she demanded. “How did those blades sharpen instantly, aiming straight for Su Mi’s vital points? This isn’t a competition; it’s premeditated murder!”

Her anger was so palpable that no one dared approach to calm her. Lin Xiayan hurried down from her pavilion, standing silently beside Zhu Ning.

Hearing this, Fan Mo stood and projected his voice across the arena: “Sect Leader Zhu, you misunderstand. This is a competition. On the battlefield, blades show no mercy. If our disciples held back today, what demonic creature would show her mercy when she descends the mountain to quell chaos?”

Zhu Ning’s teeth ached with fury. This was clearly a twisted argument, yet she couldn’t immediately find a retort.

Lin Xiayan spoke up, her innocent face turned toward Fan Mo. “But Elder Fan, Senior Sister Su Mi’s sword hasn’t been sharpened yet. If what you say is true, shouldn’t we sharpen her sword and let her stab that girl?”

Lin Xiayan tilted her head, but her words were sharp enough. She had mastered the art of feigning innocence, making others believe she was merely speaking without thinking.

Fan Mo’s expression shifted repeatedly, but he refused to step down from the platform to speak. Zhu Ning, still burning with anger, spoke with newfound authority. “This is Yun Cang Mountain. If Elder Fan wishes to discuss matters with This Venerable One, he may approach me directly. There’s no need to remain at such a distance. Or perhaps Elder Fan wishes to test his skills against mine?”

Zhu Ning had no idea where her courage came from. She had barely learned a few tricks, yet she was challenging an elder to a duel? She was gambling.

She bet that Fan Mo wouldn’t dare accept the challenge. The original owner of her body had been a formidable figure, a paragon of her generation. If a mere sect leader could easily crush her, how could the original owner ever have earned such renown?

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