Chaos, Yin and Yang, black and white.
The world seemed to become a hazy blur of monochrome.
A figure knelt on one knee, swaying precariously.
It was a tall woman, her Profound Armor shattered, revealing blood-stained skin beneath…
Bright red stained the corners of her mouth. Her consciousness flickered like a candle in the wind, blurred and unstable.
Relying solely on instinct, one hand gripped the shaft of her Spear, supporting a body that was on the verge of total collapse.
Her other arm hung limply at her side, as if lifting a single finger would weigh 1,000 pounds.
‘Where am I? This feels so familiar… I recognize this place.’ Her chaotic thoughts churned with difficulty, and the sight before her caused her heart to throb painfully.
But her Divine Sense felt as if it were sealed, refusing to remember, afraid to touch those memories.
Not until a cold, sharp sensation brushed against her neck, followed by a few drops of warm liquid sliding slowly down her skin, bringing with it the sensation of life slipping away.
She jolted, using every ounce of her strength to lift her head.
Her gaze traveled upward, meeting a pair of eyes.
They were eyes as calm as still water, devoid of a victor’s arrogance, respect for a powerful foe, or even much emotional fluctuation.
There was only an almost indifferent tranquility.
The owner of that gaze was a man.
He stood with his head slightly bowed, casually resting a Sword that flickered with Black and White Qi against the side of her neck.
He looked down at her calmly, as if looking down at an insignificant weed by the roadside.
To her, that look was more despairing and humiliating than any insulting words or any sharp Sword Qi. It silently announced the final result: he had won.
She had lost, losing even the right to struggle to her feet and fight again.
“As a maid or a slave, I am at your disposal.”
“Ah!”
Qin Xuange bolted upright from the Bed of Soft Jade, her chest heaving violently. She gasped for air, her forehead drenched in cold sweat.
“Miss! You’re awake!” The Black Dragon Maid waiting nearby was startled awake and hurried forward, her voice laced with caution. “Did you have another nightmare?”
This was the third time in as many days that Qin Xuange had jolted awake from an almost identical nightmare.
Jiang Huai’s eyes, calm as water; the icy sword blade pressed against her neck; and the wagered promise that had escaped her lips—it had all turned into a nightmare that haunted her every night, repeatedly tormenting her mind.
The pride and dignity inherited by the Black Dragon Clan had been trampled underfoot so easily by a human in the Golden Core Stage, and the other party didn’t even seem to care.
This realization was more painful than her physical injuries.
“Lately… has there been any news circulating outside?” Qin Xuange forced her breathing to steady, her voice raspy as she asked the Maidservant beside her.
“Specifically, about me and that Jiang Huai.”
Though she harbored a sliver of hope that the final truth of the duel had been obscured by the black and white light, her logic told her that Clan Leaders with profound Cultivation—like White Dew, Chi Hong, and Ao Shuang—must have seen everything clearly.
The fact that she had suffered a pathetic defeat and nearly lost her life had already fallen into their eyes.
The maid carefully wiped her Dragon Horns and replied respectfully, “Miss, there is some news regarding Young Lord Jiang, but I haven’t heard any rumors about you.”
Qin Xuange knit her heroic brows slightly. “What news? About Jiang Huai?”
“I heard that Young Lord Jiang, at the request of Clan Leader Chi Hong, has begun acting as a sparring partner to duel with Saintess Chi Huang to help her improve her strength,” the maid reported truthfully.
“A sparring partner? For Chi Huang?”
A mocking curve touched the corner of Qin Xuange’s mouth, and she murmured in a low voice, “What a waste of talent. A complete waste of time.”
Given the combat ability and level of Swordsmanship Jiang Huai had displayed on the stage that day, acting as a sparring partner for Chi Huang was truly overkill and a waste of time.
“Help me up.” She reached out her hand. “I want to go see for myself.”
Elsewhere, in a quiet room within the Red Dragon Clan’s residence.
“Honored Master, how could it be like this?” Chi Huang’s voice was tinged with awkwardness and resistance.
Like a small animal seeking comfort, she leaned her cheek against Chi Hong’s knee and said gloomily, “You want me to go and practice my sword with him?”
Ever since her defeat by Chi Lian that day, it was as if all the spirit had been drained from her. These past few days, let alone sword practice, she had rarely even left her room. She often sat alone in a daze, her eyes empty, lost in thought.
Chi Hong brushed her beloved apprentice’s long hair dotingly.
Hearing this, she chuckled and lightly poked her forehead.
“Huang’er, you have it backward. He is coming to accompany you in your sword practice, to act as your opponent. This is an opportunity your master secured for you.”
“Oh, alright.” Chi Huang reluctantly straightened her body, her mood still low.
Chi Hong took the girl’s face in her hands, forcing their eyes to meet. Her beautiful eyes were filled with reassurance.
“It was just one defeat. Since when did the Saintess of my Red Dragon Clan become someone who couldn’t afford to lose? Look at you. You haven’t even practiced your sword these past few days. Do you want me to punish you properly before you’ll pull yourself together?”
Chi Huang lowered her eyelashes, avoiding her master’s gaze. She didn’t answer but silently walked to the wall, took down the crimson Sword she had hung up for days, and strapped it back to her waist.
Since losing to Chi Lian, she had sent away all the Maidservants who served her and lived alone, as if using this self-imposed exile to lick her wounds.
“Practice well. Don’t let your master’s efforts go to waste, and don’t let yourself down.” Seeing this, Chi Hong knew that further words were useless.
She stood up and led the tidied but still listless Chi Huang outside.
On the platform of the martial arts field, Jiang Huai had been waiting for a long time. Seeing Chi Hong appear, he cupped his hands in greeting.
“Clan Leader Chi Hong.”
“Young Lord Jiang, there is no need for such formality. You can be more casual from now on.” A decent but slightly distant smile played on Chi Hong’s pretty face as she waved her hand, her tone calm.
Since her last direct approach had been ignored by Jiang Huai, she had quickly adjusted her strategy, reassuming the poise and decorum of a Great Ascension Stage Clan Leader and a powerful figure.
Her attitude was neither distant nor close; it was neither impolite nor overly enthusiastic.
Since direct hints were ineffective, she naturally would not do anything that made her look cheap or desperate.
That was not her style.
“I’ll leave Huang’er in your hands, Young Lord Jiang. I hope you won’t hesitate to provide guidance.” As Chi Hong spoke, she turned her gaze toward the somewhat evasive Chi Huang, her voice carrying a note of urging.
“As for Chi Lian’s side, you can rest assured, Young Lord Jiang. Since I have promised, I will naturally pass on everything I know.”
Hearing this, Jiang Huai bowed sincerely.
“Thank you for fulfilling your word, Clan Leader! I will remember this.”
Chi Hong chuckled softly.
She took a few Lotus Steps and, as she passed Jiang Huai, she stopped and lightly patted his shoulder.
“Young Lord Jiang, you certainly care deeply about those around you. That’s good.”
Without waiting for a response, her figure turned into a streak of red light, gracefully flying away into the distance, leaving only a Dragon Shadow dancing in the air.