Chapter 47

“Don’t think I don’t know that all ten of those pills are tainted. My second disciple wouldn’t even be able to pick them out! Even if you want to take revenge for Li Qingran, isn’t that a bit too much? Besides, did my second disciple really give Li Qingran a poisoned pill?”

“Elder Qingxuan.” Qingran, under the immense pressure of her late-stage transformation, stepped forward with her pale face, as if trying to shield the person behind her in the void.

Her cold, clear eyes locked onto her former master, filled with a bone-deep sorrow: “Since the grand competition, I haven’t received any help. The only pill I’ve taken was the Great Recovery Pill given to me by Xiao Yifeng.”

“You’re talking nonsense!” Elder Qingxuan’s eyes widened in anger.

“If I speak one false word, may I be struck by heavenly lightning,” Qingran declared, raising three fingers to the sky. The weight of the heavenly decree made her delicate face turn ashen; she could even feel her fate dwindling. The relationships she had painstakingly maintained were now crumbling, and her desperate counterattack was fierce!

Above Qingyun Sect, the clear sky was suddenly shrouded in dark clouds, with flashes of lightning flickering within, as if probing the situation, only to dissipate along with the clouds when nothing was found.

Elder Qingxuan met Qingran’s resolute gaze, his sword trembling in his hand, rendered speechless. Having tangled with fate twice, he knew that Qingran was risking everything.

If that were the case, then the poisoned pill was indeed given to her by Xiao Yifeng on purpose, and the healing pills he had sent for Qingran had never reached her.

Among the remaining seven pills, one floated before Elder Qingxuan.

The pressure weighing down on Qingran dissipated.

A voice echoed in the void:

[Why not give it a try?]

Elder Qingxuan stared at the brocade box containing the pills, a flicker of hesitation crossing his eyes.

“How do I know if this pill…”

Before he could finish his sentence, the brocade box suddenly opened.

A Great Recovery Pill shot into Elder Qingxuan’s mouth with a whoosh.

The voice in the void sneered:

[Eat it!]

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Chapter 48: Battle with Lu Changtian (A Bright Future +1)

When the pill shot into Elder Qingxuan’s mouth, two people shuddered.

One was Sect Master Wu Duantian, and the other was Chen Huai’an, who was staring blankly at his phone.

Just moments ago, the game had prompted him to voluntarily hand over a normal pill to Elder Qingxuan, and he had selected “yes.”

So, this is what “handing over” means?

Is it really that hardcore?

Will this NPC not fly into a rage?

What if it suddenly triggers a Bad End?

Wu Duantian was shocked by Chen Huai’an’s crude actions. As a great cultivator, how could he force a pill into someone’s mouth?

It was utterly disgraceful!

Quite explosive!

And surprisingly… delightful!!

Li Qingran was already dumbfounded.

A single strand of hair stood up on her forehead, looking dazed.

Elder Qingxuan swallowed hard as the Great Recovery Pill settled in his stomach.

Just as he was about to explode with anger, the pill’s effects began to spread, and there wasn’t a trace of poison in it. Clearly, as the mysterious cultivator had said, there was no trickery involved; Xiao Yifeng’s current predicament was of his own making.

Elder Qingxuan’s feelings were complicated.

His anger began to cool.

He couldn’t just claim that the pill was poisoned to twist the truth, could he?

Everyone could see clearly; he had already lost face.

The cultivator’s realm was still unknown and lurking in the shadows.

If he lashed out and lost, he could forget about staying in Qingyun Sect.

Fine, he would endure one last time.

Elder Qingxuan took a deep breath, his stiff face twitching as he forced out a few words: “Well, this Great Recovery Pill indeed has no poison… I haven’t taught my disciple well, and I’ve made a fool of myself in front of you. However, Xiao Yifeng has exceptional talent in alchemy. Given time, if he achieves something, I’ll be sure to seek your guidance.”

Elder Qingxuan’s words were quite diplomatic.

What he meant was, “The wheel of fortune turns; it’s just a matter of time.”

Chen Huai’an understood and scoffed at Elder Qingxuan’s veiled threat: “By the time your disciple achieves something, I’ll have already turned Qingran into a sword immortal.”

...

“Master, there’s no need to wait that long. Today, I’ll teach you a lesson.”

Everyone turned to see Lu Changtian walking up the steps of the plaza, stopping right in front of Li Qingran.

He slowly drew his flying sword from its sheath, his aura rising steadily, his sharp gaze locking onto Li Qingran.

The eldest disciple of Chixiao Peak, at the peak of Foundation Establishment.

Among cultivators under thirty, such a realm was truly extraordinary.

The two exchanged silent glances, tension thick in the air!

Lu Changtian’s robe billowed as if a great wind had swept through, his deep-set eyes filled with anger and hatred. Just as his aura reached its peak, it gradually reined in, compressing down to the seventh level of Qi Refinement.

“Junior sister, I still wish to call you that. But I’m referring to the you of the past, not the loathsome you of today.

If it weren’t for you, Zhang Hanxiao, Yun Zimo, and Xiao Yifeng wouldn’t be so badly hurt.

Chixiao Peak and my master wouldn’t have been humiliated!”

“But I refuse to call you senior brother.” Li Qingran drew her Su Xuan sword, its tip angled toward Lu Changtian.

The blade reflected her frost-covered eyes: “The day I fell from the arena, Lu Changtian, you were already dead.”

“You harmed my junior sister; that’s your just deserts.”

“If I wanted to harm Mu Baishuang, you wouldn’t even have time to react. Back then, I was at the Foundation Establishment stage, and she was at the Qi Refinement stage. What made you think you could stop me? The elders and the sect master weren’t around; just you and a Golden Core outer sect elder?”

“Don’t bother justifying yourself. Let me see if your sword is as sharp as your tongue!”

Lu Changtian charged forward, his sword energy like snow, exuding a chilling aura.

It was the sword technique often used by Mu Baishuang—Frost Snow Embrace, also derived from the Lesser Wuxiang Sword Technique.

This was the same move Mu Baishuang had used in the arena.

At that time, she was at the seventh level of Qi Refinement, and he had suppressed his cultivation to match hers.

He was proficient in all the sword techniques of the Lesser Wuxiang Sword, and whatever Mu Baishuang had used, he would use as well.

He wanted to see if it was as Li Qingran had said, that as long as she wished, they wouldn’t be able to stop her!

Li Qingran sensed Lu Changtian’s intentions as well. She dodged a sweeping sword strike, her figure flickering as she thrust her Su Xuan sword toward an empty space.

Lu Changtian, embodying frost and snow, appeared in that air, his brow furrowed, his gaze sharp. He executed a backflip to evade the Su Xuan sword, inwardly lamenting how Li Qingran’s reflexes had become so quick. Feeling a chill above his head, he immediately raised his sword to block, but a powerful force struck his sword and vanished in an instant. As he spun around to deliver a sneaky kick, Li Qingran had already gracefully retreated three steps.

In the moment Lu Changtian had yet to retract his leg, he thrust his sword again.

The sword light fell like rain, its momentum growing fierce.

The technique she used was also the same one she had employed against Mu Baishuang in the arena—the sixth form of the Lesser Wuxiang Sword Technique—Drenching Rain.

With such a suppression in realm, Lu Changtian’s body couldn’t keep up with his mind’s reactions.

He hadn’t expected Li Qingran’s sword to be so fast; even with his understanding of the Lesser Wuxiang Sword, he could only respond hastily.

Drenching Rain could unleash up to forty-nine strikes.

In his memory, Li Qingran had practiced this technique with him, and she had never executed it more than thirty times.

If he could just endure past thirty strikes.

Hiss—!

There was no time to think further.

A sharp flash of sword light suddenly filled his vision, moving at breakneck speed.

The sword light descended from the sky, followed by a blurred figure.

A torrential downpour, the sword’s momentum like a waterfall.

Within the rain of sword shadows, a barely perceptible sword intent was brewing.

After building up for forty-nine strikes, it suddenly pierced forth, unstoppable.

Clang!

Lu Changtian’s sword flew from his hand.

He knelt on the ground, his pupils trembling, staring blankly at the familiar yet strange girl before him.

The cold blade of Su Xuan was already pressed against his neck.

“Why could you unleash the final strike of Drenching Rain?”

“Why?”

Li Qingran’s voice seemed to sigh, yet also carried a hint of self-mockery.

“Lu Changtian, I actually learned it long ago; it’s just that your patience never allowed me to reach the final strike.”

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