Chapter 13: Challenge

After collecting their food, Mu Congyun deliberately chose an inconspicuous corner to sit with Shen Qi and Jin Ni.

However, the Five Flavors Hall was always crowded with disciples, and after the flying sword incident caused by Jin Ni in the square earlier, Mu Congyun and Shen Qi, who had appeared alongside him, inevitably drew attention.

The disciples exchanged meaningful glances, whispered among themselves, and some even secretly sent messages to their absent senior brothers, sisters, juniors, and fellow disciples.

The central idea was simple: The grand senior brother of Wuwang Peak had descended to the mortal realm! He was eating at the Five Flavors Hall!

Alive! A moving grand senior brother!

How novel!

After all, this grand senior brother of Wuwang Peak was so reclusive that many junior disciples had never even glimpsed his true appearance. 

Yet, it was precisely this grand senior brother who had secured the top position in the previous “Xuanling Trials,” solidifying his status as the chief disciple of Xuanling and leaving behind countless legends among the sect’s disciples.

Female disciples claimed his face was like that of a banished immortal, his demeanor as pure as ice and snow-one glance and worldly thoughts would fade.

Male disciples said he could cleave mountains and rivers with a single sword, his swordsmanship peerless, a role model for their generation. 

In short, he was a transcendent, almost mythical figure-though it was said his temperament was rather cold, and he rarely spoke to others.

Those fortunate enough to have seen the grand senior brother described him as: “Colder than the northernmost snow-capped mountains, to be admired from afar but never approached.”

With so many rumors circulating, countless disciples had lost sleep over him. 

Without even realizing it, Mu Congyun had become the center of Xuanling’s gossip.

By now, the group of furtively observing disciples had begun placing hushed bets: 

“How long do you think Jiang Ling will take to get here?” 

“No more than a quarter-hour.”

Another glanced at Mu Congyun’s table and declared with certainty, “Senior Sister Lingyin from the Punishment Hall already got the news. I bet he’ll be here in less than half a quarter-hour.”

The Jiang Ling they spoke of was the grandson of Punishment Hall Elder Zhuge Song.

Elder Zhuge had only one daughter, who had married into the Sword Inquiry Sect of Sizhou and bore only one son-Jiang Ling, a prodigy said to have mastered numerous sword techniques of the Sword Inquiry Sect before the age of ten. 

As such, both Elder Zhuge and the Sword Inquiry Sect held Jiang Ling in high esteem.

When Jiang Ling was ten, he visited Xuanling for a short stay. After exchanging pointers with Xie Cifeng, the guardian elder of Wuwang Peak, and experiencing the Three Enclosures Sword, he expressed his desire to become Xie Cifeng’s disciple.

Unfortunately, Xie Cifeng refused, citing a lack of master-disciple affinity.

That alone might have been tolerable, but not long after, Xie Cifeng returned from his travels with a child he took as his personal disciple. That child was Mu Congyun.

Rumors had long circulated in Xuanling that Mu Congyun was originally just a beggar from the mortal world, with mediocre talent, who had merely been lucky enough to be accepted by Xie Cifeng. 

The truth of the matter was lost to time, but Jiang Ling’s lingering resentment was very real.

He had repeatedly sought to challenge Mu Congyun, but Mu Congyun rarely appeared in public, and Jiang Ling was barred from entering Wuwang Peak, leaving him no opportunity.

It wasn’t until five years ago, during the once-every-five-years “Xuanling Trials,” that he finally got his chance to spar with Mu Congyun. 

That year’s “Xuanling Trials” showcased Mu Congyun’s blade-less swordplay, cementing his position as Xuanling’s chief disciple and earning him widespread fame and a devoted following among the sect’s disciples.

After Jiang Lin’s defeat, he returned to the Sword Sect and secluded himself for five years of rigorous cultivation. 

Upon emerging, he headed straight for Xuanling, seeking an opportunity to avenge his humiliation.

Previously, Mu Congyun had gone to Nanhuai Town to deal with an anomaly, causing them to miss each other. 

Thus, they hadn’t crossed paths until now.

This time, with Mu Congyun finally leaving Wuwang Peak, Jiang Lin would not let this chance slip away.

As the crowd murmured in hushed tones, a clear, youthful voice rang out: “Senior Brother Mu, you’ve been hard to find.”

The voice arrived before the person.

A flamboyant figure clad in red soared in on a sword, its domineering and fierce aura forcing the surrounding disciples to hastily step aside.

The newcomer sheathed his sword and swept his gaze across the lively hall before locking onto Mu Congyun’s location.

Hearing the voice, Mu Congyun inwardly groaned. 

Turning around, he confirmed it was indeed that persistent, petty thorn in his side. 

His expression remained blank as he stood up, grabbing Shen Qi and Jin Li with each hand, ready to make a quick exit.

But Jiang Lin had clearly come prepared, blocking his path before he could leave.

Mu Congyun stared back at him with an icy expression, his usual patience nowhere to be found. 

“Move.”

Beside him, Shen Qi shot him a surprised glance. 

Though Mu Congyun’s tone and expression seemed no different from usual, Shen Qi keenly sensed his anger.

Did these two have a grudge?

This foolish rabbit was so mild-mannered-how could he have provoked someone?

Then the problem must lie with the other person.

Shen Qi gave Jiang Lin a once-over, curling his lip at the ostentatious red robes.

How ugly.

“So this is Elder Xie’s new disciple?”

If Jiang Lin were the type to step aside, he wouldn’t be Jiang Lin. 

Tipping his chin up, he looked down at Shen Qi with disdain, his gaze flickering briefly over Jin Li. 

“Wuwang Peak really will take in any stray. I heard the sect leader handpicked several promising candidates for Elder Xie to choose from, yet he rejected them all. In the end, he settled for a mortal who hasn’t even touched the threshold of cultivation. Elder Xie truly isn’t picky.”

Jiang Lin’s tone dripped with contempt.

The fact that Xie Cifeng had refused to take him as a disciple, only to later accept four personal students one after another, had always been a bitter pill to swallow.

Since childhood, Jiang Lin had been exceptionally gifted, the center of attention in the Sword Sect, never tasting defeat. 

Yet the two stumbles in his life had both been at Wuwang Peak.

First, his request to become a disciple was rejected. 

Then, during the “Xuanling Trials,” he lost to Mu Congyun by a single move.

Proud as he was, he could never accept this.

Especially when he saw Jin Li, who had remained stagnant at the Perfected Shell Stage for so long without any ambition to improve. 

Wuwang Peak would take in such trash, yet they refused him.

Mu Congyun’s expression darkened completely, his aura as cold as ice.

He disliked socializing and thus rarely made enemies, but Jiang Lin was the exception.

When his master first brought him to Xuanling, Mu Congyun knew his talents were mediocre he couldn’t master talismans or divination, making him unfit to inherit his master’s legacy. 

So he devoted himself entirely to the sword. If he could only excel in one thing, he would push it to the absolute limit, ensuring he wouldn’t disgrace his master’s name.

Though he lived in seclusion on Wuwang Peak all these years, he wasn’t entirely ignorant of the outside world.

For instance, he rarely left the peak and seldom participated in Xuanling’s affairs, leading to endless speculation among the sect’s elders and disciples. 

After Jiang Lin’s appearance, these rumors only grew louder.

Five years ago, he hadn’t planned to participate in the “Xuanling Trials.” 

It was only after overhearing malicious speculation about Wuwang Peak and his master that he became indignant and volunteered to join.

He never expected Jiang Ling to be so petty-just one defeat, and the man had been hounding him relentlessly ever since.

That alone would have been tolerable, but then Jiang Ling had the audacity to insult his master and junior brother.

Mu Congyun’s anger flared. 

He stepped forward, shielding Shen Qi and Jin Li behind him. 

“What do you want?”

Jiang Ling had been itching for a fight. Seeing this, he raised his sword and said,

“How about a spar, Senior Brother? If I lose, I’ll submit to your judgment. But if I win…” 

His gaze slid past Mu Congyun to Shen Qi and Jin Li, smirking. 

“I’ll borrow these two as sword attendants for a month.”

A sword attendant wasn’t just someone who carried a sword-they were also expected to serve as sparring partners.

Jin Li, at least, had reached the peak of the Mortal Shell Realm. 

Against Jiang Ling, he might not gain the upper hand, but he wouldn’t suffer too badly.

But Shen Qi was just an ordinary mortal who hadn’t even crossed the threshold of cultivation. 

Jiang Ling wouldn’t even need to draw his sword—just the oppressive force of his sword aura could kill him.

This was outright bullying.

Mu Congyun disliked conflict, but he wasn’t afraid of it.

His expression turned icy, his usually calm eyes narrowing with cold fury. 

“The training grounds.”

Without another word, he grabbed Shen Qi and Jin Li by their shoulders and flew toward the arena on his sword.

Jin Li was so intimidated by his aura that he didn’t dare even breathe loudly, trembling as he huddled closer to Shen Qi. 

Shen Qi shot him a disdainful look but didn’t push him away this time. Instead, he studied Mu Congyun with interest. 

The old saying was true-even a rabbit would bite when cornered.

The training grounds weren’t far from the Five Flavors Pavilion, serving as the usual place for disciples to spar. 

News of Jiang Ling and the senior brother’s impending duel had already spread, and disciples were already flying toward the arena in droves.

Mu Congyun set Shen Qi and Jin Li down on the spectator platform before stepping into the center of the arena.

The gazes from all sides made him uncomfortable, but his anger suppressed his instinctive aversion. 

He stood firm in the middle, his white robes fluttering, his aura spreading like a chilling frost.

In this life, there were few people he cherished—his master and the disciples of Wuwang Peak. 

None of them would tolerate disrespect.

Jiang Ling arrived moments later, licking his lips in excitement as he gripped his sword hilt. 

“Senior Brother Mu, shall we?”

Mu Congyun, in no mood for pleasantries, remained silent. 

His sword, Beitian, hovered at his side, vibrating with a hum in response to its master’s emotions.

Jiang Ling hailed from the Sword Inquiry Sect, having studied countless sword techniques before creating his own-the Blazing Sun Sword.

His style was bold and unrestrained, as fierce and flamboyant as the man himself.

The moment his sword was drawn, scorching heat surged forth, the sword’s intent blazing like fire.

Mu Congyun calmly raised two fingers. 

Beitian split into four phantoms, forming a sword array that plunged into the ground. 

In an instant, winter descended upon midsummer-snowflakes swirled, and a thick layer of frost spread across the arena floor.

Seeing his move countered, Jiang Ling shifted his stance, his blade piercing toward Mu Congyun’s face like a ray of sunlight.

Mu Congyun didn’t dodge. Instead, he caught the blade between two fingers.

The tip of Jiang Ling’s sword stopped less than three inches from his brow, unable to advance another fraction. 

Jiang Ling channeled his spiritual energy, trying to pull back for another strike, but no matter how hard he struggled, his sword remained immovable.

At this very moment, the frost on the training ground had already swiftly climbed up his feet, spreading upward and freezing his calves. 

By the time Jiang Ling reacted and tried to retreat, he had already lost the advantage.

– Another unseen Sword of Sorrow had appeared behind him at some point, its tip pressing against the back of his neck.

“You’ve lost,” Mu Congyun said calmly, looking at him.

During the “Xuanling Trial,” the two had exchanged ten moves, with Jiang Ling losing by a single stroke.

Afterward, he returned to the Sword Sect to train in seclusion, challenging Mu Congyun again five years later.

Yet this time, he couldn’t even withstand three moves.

Cheers erupted from the spectator stands, with Jin Ni shouting the loudest among them.

Jiang Ling’s face paled abruptly as he sheathed his sword in defeat. 

“A bet is a bet. I submit to Senior Brother Mu’s judgment.”

But Mu Congyun had no intention of passing judgment.

Had Jiang Ling not been so insolent, he wouldn’t have even accepted the duel.

Without a word, he turned and walked away. 

The four shadow swords embedded in the training ground merged into one, and the Sword of Sorrow transformed into a streak of light, returning to its sheath.

With the sword formation broken, the frost and snow melted away.

In the height of summer, a flurry of white snow drifted down at the center of the training ground.

Shen Qi watched the figure emerging from the snowstorm, dark tides churning in his eyes. 

The desire to claim him as his own grew uncontrollably.