Chapter 50

Chapter 50: Qu Shu and Ming Yue

The moment they saw his face, everything clicked.

Most people in the South City had heard what Chen De Le had done. No one expected him to swagger right up to Lin Zhao herself. So if she didn’t hit him, who would?

But the thing that truly set the crowd buzzing wasn’t the slap. It was Lin Zhao’s cultivation.

Someone blurted, “Didn’t Lin Zhao go up Yun Ding Peak only ten or so days ago? Back then she was only at the eleventh layer of Foundation Establishment! And in less than half a month, she’s reached the first layer of Enlightenment?!”

“My heavens. Two breakthroughs in half a month—what kind of monster is that?!”

“No wonder she’s the destined Phoenix Maiden who reached Foundation Establishment at six. Shen Yu Han must’ve had stones for eyes.”

“Heh. Don’t just talk about Turtle Wretch Shen. A friend of mine in Yao Chi Sacred Land said his Holy Son position is about to be stripped! How could he ever be worthy of Immortal Maiden Wang Shu, Lin Zhao?”

That last line made more than a few people inhale. As the two sides faced off, the looks falling on the blue-dressed maiden shifted—less gossip now, more reverence.

It felt like the former genius everyone whispered about—the one who’d supposedly been ruined by love and publicly humiliated on her wedding day—had finally returned to the place she was always meant to stand. Leaving Yun Ding Peak had been like peeling off a shackle. Her talent was back. No, it was sharper than before.

With gifts like that, if Shen Yu Han truly lost his Holy Son position in Yao Chi Sacred Land, then pursuing Lin Zhao would be reaching for the sun with dirty hands.

Noticing the changing stares and hushed voices around him, Jia Lan’s expression darkened like the bottom of a scorched pot.

Lin Zhao had stepped on the Sacred Light Empire’s face and ground it into the dirt, flipping everything with one blow.

If she defeated Chen Wei Wei today and stood against him head-on, all the shameful rumors from before would be erased—buried under her strength and talent.

This world bowed to the expert.

And no matter what he did, he couldn’t undo that.

Since he couldn’t turn it around…

Jia Lan recalled his longsword. His aura surged as he sneered, “So you’re the Young Lord of the Lin Family? Fine. Then if I strike, it won’t count as bullying the weak. Young Lord Lin, enlighten me. I’d like to see how capable this so-called destined Phoenix Maiden really is.”

His intent was obvious. He wanted Lin Zhao to fight him here and now.

He claimed it wasn’t bullying. But only he knew the truth: he was frightened.

Back then, it had taken him a full year to go from peak Foundation Establishment to Enlightenment. Even so, he’d been hailed as a genius. Lin Zhao had done it in less than half a month.

And unlike Chen Wei Wei—whose breakthrough stank of instability—Lin Zhao’s foundation was calm, clean, terrifyingly solid.

That meant one thing.

Her talent exceeded his.

Give a monster like that time and she would surpass him sooner or later.

And narrow-minded Jia Lan couldn’t accept that.

Under his breath, poisonous enough for those nearest to hear, he muttered, “Since you used to be trash, go back to being trash, Lin Zhao.”

The malice in his eyes was a blade.

Lin Zhao shifted her weight, gaze steady. She hadn’t expected him to be this shameless. The tournament hadn’t even started, and he wanted to use his ninth layer of Enlightenment to crush her first.

But she wasn’t the Lin Zhao of before.

If she couldn’t win, she could still escape.

If Jia Lan thought he could cripple her on the spot, he was looking down on her.

Lin Zhao circulated the Phoenix Pulse Art, preparing to call forth the Heavenly Phoenix wings.

Ever since the Phoenix Pulse Art evolved and she stepped into Enlightenment, the Heavenly Phoenix Bone Sword had awakened further. The wings that once existed as mere Spirit Qi Manifestation had become true wings of flesh and blood—and only then did she understand the name they carried.

Heavenly Phoenix wings.

With those wings, as long as a Golden Core cultivator using Shrink the Earth to an Inch didn’t chase her down, Lin Zhao was confident that against an Enlightenment cultivator—even if she couldn’t win—she could still get away.

That was why she wasn’t afraid of Jia Lan.

Jia Lan lifted his sword, the tip angling toward her throat.

He was about to strike.

A silver-white glow flashed and formed a barrier in front of Lin Zhao.

Jia Lan froze.

Then he looked up.

A cold, aloof youth had arrived on sword flight. Silver eyes. White robes. The kind of chill that seemed to scrape the air clean.

Oddly, he resembled Lin Zhao in temperament—except Lin Zhao still carried warmth, while he was pure ice.

“Penglai’s Holy Son,” Jia Lan said, voice rough with disbelief. “You’re going to interfere?”

Lu Xuan Bing hurried over as well, brow tight with worry. “Yes, Qu Shu. Offending Jia Lan over Lin Zhao isn’t worth it.”

Qu Shu didn’t even glance at her.

He drew back his magic tool, stepped down from the longsword, and landed beside Lin Zhao. His voice was quiet. “Are you alright?”

Lin Zhao waved a hand. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

Qu Shu gave a short, almost indifferent “Mm.” Then he turned to Jia Lan. “If you want to fight, fight me.”

Jia Lan’s face twisted. How could he dare? Qu Shu was at the twelfth layer of Enlightenment. Even among the Newcomer Kings, that was a wall.

In the end, he could only spit venom at Lin Zhao. “As expected of Immortal Maiden Wang Shu. You’re always good at hooking men to stand up for you. If you didn’t have those identities and resources, with that face, you’d make a fine plaything.”

Cold light flared in Qu Shu’s eyes.

Lin Zhao’s hand came down on his shoulder—firm, restraining. Then she stepped forward and stared straight into Jia Lan’s.

“What’s the point of winning with words?” she said. “Jia Lan, once the tournament begins, not a single one of you sewage-mouthed roaches from the Sacred Light Empire is getting into the academy.”

She didn’t know every rule in detail, but she knew one thing. In the South Sea Academy’s tournaments, even official disciples could be eliminated if they performed poorly.

If that was the case…

She wouldn’t leave the Sacred Light Empire anyone to keep.

Jia Lan and the Chen family had insulted her again and again. Did they really think she had no temper?

Jia Lan scoffed, shaking his head in contempt. “You think I’m like those useless fools you beat before? Lin Zhao, next time you won’t be so lucky.”

In his eyes, Lin Zhao herself was trash he could crush with one hand. The only one he feared was Qu Shu.

The tournament hadn’t started yet. All the disciples to be assessed had gathered here. He couldn’t act freely.

But once it began?

He didn’t believe Qu Shu could protect Lin Zhao forever.

Lu Xuan Bing’s gaze snapped onto Lin Zhao, raw with hatred. “Holy Son, don’t forget the venerable’s orders.”

Qu Shu lifted his eyes and looked at her once.

That look was bitterly cold.

Lu Xuan Bing had never been looked at like that by Qu Shu. It felt like being dropped into an ice cellar. Her pride flared hot and ugly.

She flicked her hand.

A streak of gray-purple spiritual power lashed toward Lin Zhao.

Jia Lan’s eyes lit up. He shifted, ready to strike the moment Qu Shu moved to block.

A dangerous aura locked onto him—no weaker than Qu Shu’s.

“If you want to die,” a voice said, calm and chilling, “go ahead and move.”

Jia Lan stiffened and looked up.

A blood-eyed maiden in black gauze stood above, barefoot, her skin pale as jade. A small blood-red bell hung from her ankle.

Ming Yue.

One of the Three Sects.

Lin Zhao’s gaze found her, and a faint smile tugged at her lips.

Both Qu Shu and Ming Yue were people she’d met while carrying out missions in the past. She’d thought it was just a coincidence of names.

She hadn’t expected it to truly be them.

And she hadn’t expected either of them to be willing to face Jia Lan—another Newcomer King—for her sake.

Ming Yue dropped lightly to Lin Zhao’s other side. Unlike Qu Shu, who only defended, she struck without hesitation. A streak of bloody spirit energy shot out and punched straight through Lu Xuan Bing’s lower abdomen.

“You had killing intent,” Ming Yue said flatly. “You deserve to die.”

Lu Xuan Bing’s pupils shrank. She stared at the hole in her belly, then at Lin Zhao, resentment blazing.

But she wasn’t stupid.

If she stayed, Ming Yue would truly go for the kill—and Lu Xuan Bing didn’t dare use her status as a holy maiden to pressure a young sect master of one of the Three Sects.

Among the four Sacred Lands, only Xuanqing Sacred Land treated Holy Sons and holy maidens like weeds. They weren’t worth much. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have lowered herself like sticky plaster—currying favor with Qu Shu’s grandfather, clinging to Qu Shu all the way to the South Sea.

With Ming Yue in front of her, she didn’t dare show the slightest temper.

She crushed a Teleportation Talisman.

And vanished.