Yan Jin and Ye Huaiyao were both within the range of the sword-rain. Yet unless Yan Jin intended to perish alongside him, the blades would inevitably avoid him when they came down.
Ye Huaiyao seized precisely this flaw.
He could vaguely sense that the spiritual power he had managed to recover was unstable. Drawing a breath, he brought the index and middle fingers of his right hand together and pointed forward. His fingers slipped precisely through a gap in the sword qi before landing lightly against the flat of Yan Jin’s blade.
Yan Jin felt his sword suddenly sink. He had never expected Ye Huaiyao to stop his sword strike with nothing but his bare hand. Shocked and furious, he swept out his left hand and hurled two more Thunderclap Talismans.
Lightning exploded through the rain, its power multiplied by the water. But Ye Huaiyao had already taken advantage of their exchange to pivot beneath the attack, somehow circling around behind Yan Jin.
In doing so, he effectively used Yan Jin himself as a shield against the talismans. The rain of blades and flashes of lightning immediately faltered.
Yan Jin snorted, “Taking advantage of loopholes.”
Even as he spoke, he didn’t turn around. Instead, he swung his longsword backward, bringing it down toward Ye Huaiyao’s head.
The instant the sword began its descent, Yan Jin suddenly felt his waist grow lighter. He twisted sideways and kicked out, but amid the chaos, he had no time even to look down. His sword technique did not pause for an instant.
A flash of sword light followed by a sharp whoosh, a folding fan suddenly appeared in Ye Huaiyao’s hand. Its ribs caught Yan Jin’s blade precisely, locking it in place.
Only moments earlier, Ye Huaiyao had been empty-handed. Yan Jin found the fan strangely familiar. He glanced down at his waist in astonishment and discovered that the fan he had tucked there was gone.
Seeing his expression, Ye Huaiyao laughed aloud. With a flick of the fan, he knocked the sword aside, then lightly touched the ground with his toes and swept backward through the air.
His hair streamed behind him, his robes fluttering. Suspended in midair, he was like drifting clouds and flying willow fluff, like flowers touched by a fine spring rain.
Three Water-Killing Talismans shot after him. Ye Huaiyao’s fingers shifted slightly. With a crisp snap, the folding fan opened, half concealing his exquisite features. His movements were graceful and effortless, carrying not only elegance but an almost irresistible charm.
Yan Jin had been born into wealth and privilege, and everything he used was of the finest quality. His talismans were naturally powerful, while the fan itself was made from exceptional materials. Ye Huaiyao secretly infused the fan with spiritual power and spun it around, barely managing to block the approaching water dragon.
Water exploded in every direction. The droplets, struck by spiritual energy, transformed into a fine mist. Under the dim, secluded light filtering through the forest, the mist shimmered and glowed. In an instant, rainbow-coloured light spread through the air, curling around Ye Huaiyao’s body.
Both sides brought out one ingenious move after another, and the tide of battle reversed several times. The fight was extraordinarily dangerous, yet Ye Huaiyao’s every movement possessed an effortless elegance, making the spectacle almost breathtakingly beautiful.
A wave of astonished exclamations rose from the crowd. The voices mingled together, and surprisingly, the majority seemed to belong to women. Clearly captivated by the dashing young man, they only restrained themselves slightly after being glared at by their elders.
Yan Jin had never imagined that his fan could be stolen right from under his nose without him noticing. To have it happen in front of everyone was humiliating enough. Hearing the surrounding cheers for Ye Huaiyao only made his anger burn hotter.
He gave a cold snort. This time, he abandoned his illusionary formation. His sword movements became continuous and relentless, murderous intent surging from every stroke. His attacks struck like an eagle’s talons and thunderbolts, raining down upon Ye Huaiyao in a furious assault. He unleashed every ounce of skill he had painstakingly cultivated over the years.
At first, when Yan Jin had relied on talismanic illusions, he had indeed been guarding against trickery from Ye Huaiyao. But there had also been another motive: he wanted to humiliate him, to watch this supposedly useless man become flustered and lose miserably.
But now, Yan Jin was finally treating Ye Huaiyao as an equal opponent and facing him with his full strength. Of course, even if he were beaten half to death, he would never admit as much.
Yet despite the seriousness with which Yan Jin now fought, the battle did not unfold as he had expected.
He had always believed his sword to be fast enough. Ye Huaiyao, meanwhile, had nothing but a folding fan in his hands. But the moment their weapons met, Yan Jin’s heart sank.
The spectators watched in astonishment. Yan Jin’s sword had nearly become a blur, moving so quickly that its shape was difficult to discern. Yet Ye Huaiyao’s every movement remained clear and precise, each stroke seemingly performed with leisurely composure. Strangely, despite the obvious difference, his speed was not the slightest bit inferior to Yan Jin’s.
The clash of sword and fan sounded like a sudden downpour, like countless drumbeats falling in rapid succession. It was astonishingly fast. Yan Jin was soon drenched in sweat, holding on only by sheer force of will.
His arms moved furiously, but his mind was in turmoil. How could Ye Huaiyao possibly possess swordsmanship like this?
His weapon was inferior. His spiritual power was inferior. And yet he was still able to fight Yan Jin to a standstill. It was simply humiliating!
…No, it wasn’t a standstill. Just as Yan Jin had pushed himself to his utmost limit, Ye Huaiyao suddenly flipped his left hand. Three talismans appeared between his fingers.
Yan Jin’s mind went blank. There was only one thought left in his head: It’s over.
Before even that thought had fully formed, three bolts of lightning crashed down beside him.
At the same time, Ye Huaiyao’s sword technique, which moments earlier had been as gentle as a spring breeze brushing against flower petals, suddenly became ferocious. Sword light seemed to erupt from the folding fan.
For an instant, the attack was like a rising tide and crashing waves, vast and unrestrained, surging relentlessly toward Yan Jin.
Thunderclap Talismans were extremely rare and expensive. Ye Huaiyao naturally hadn’t possessed any while he was at Chensu Sect.
These three had been smuggled in to him by someone through A-Nan while he was trapped inside the Soul-Devouring Grass. Now, they were finally proving useful.
Even setting aside his lightness skill and swordsmanship, the precision of his judgment and the speed of his attacks were both extraordinary. Several people in the crowd couldn’t help voicing their admiration. Yan Jin, however, no longer had the luxury of thinking about such things.
The terror of being completely and utterly crushed by another person could probably only be understood by the person trapped within the battle itself.
He was caught between advancing and retreating. He barely managed to raise his sword, but it was already useless.
“Brother Yan!” Ji Lanying cried out in alarm.
Ultimately, all of this had begun because he wanted the Leopard King’s blood. Yan Jin was a central figure of the Yan family, whereas Ji Lanying was merely a member of the Ji family’s collateral branch. If Yan Jin were injured here today, Ji Lanying knew that he would certainly suffer the consequences as well.
He drew his sword and rushed forward to help. But the battle between Yan Jin and Ye Huaiyao was too intense. Water mist and lightning intertwined with overwhelming sword qi, leaving no opening for Ji Lanying to approach.
In desperation, he turned toward Yuan Xian and pleaded, “Brother Yuan…”
The corners of Yuan Xian’s lips lifted slightly: “You want me to save Yan San*?”
(*TN: three/ third, as in “Third Young Master Yan”.)
Ji Lanying said, “I know he’s never been very courteous toward you, but that’s simply his temperament. In the end, he’s fighting for my sake. So, Brother Yuan, please… for my sake…”
Yuan Xian’s expression was always touched by a hint of carefree frivolity, as though nothing in the world could truly hold his attention. Perhaps because of this, there was always something unfathomable about him.
Yet Yuan Xian himself knew that when it came to Ji Lanying’s requests, he had never been able to refuse.
More than five hundred years ago, the Yuan family had been torn apart by an internal struggle. Yuan Xian had been ambushed and left grievously wounded, on the verge of death. It was Ji Lanying who had saved him, allowing him to escape dying alone in the wilderness.
A true man should stand upright beneath heaven and earth. Of all things in this world, the one thing he could never forget was a debt of gratitude.And Ji Lanying was so gentle, refined, and perceptive that one couldn’t help wanting to help him.
Remembering that distant event, a trace of warmth passed through Yuan Xian’s eyes. He simply nodded. “All right.”
Yan Jin had always regarded Yuan Xian as a romantic rival. Given his temperament, he had never shown Yuan Xian much courtesy. Ji Lanying knew his request was somewhat unreasonable and had been speaking hesitantly, but Yuan Xian had already agreed without the slightest hesitation.
Ji Lanying quietly breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that Yuan Xian was still the same as ever. He would never make things difficult for him.
Ye Huaiyao was merely an unknown disciple of Chensu Sect, yet before the eyes of everyone present, he had beaten one of the Yan family’s finest disciples into such a miserable state. It was an utter humiliation for the Yan family.
The Yan disciples had long since been unable to sit still. Unfortunately, just like Ji Lanying, they could find no opportunity to intervene. The battle was too tightly packed, talismans flying everywhere, and there was simply no way to force their way in. All they could do was watch helplessly.
Yuan Xian, however, was known as the “Thunderous Hand.” His palm power was extraordinary, far beyond that of an ordinary cultivator.
The moment he agreed to Ji Lanying’s request, he shot forward. His palm swept horizontally. The force of it was almost enough to shake heaven and earth. The surrounding water mist and lightning abruptly froze. Yuan Xian had successfully entered the battle. He stepped between Yan Jin and Ye Huaiyao.
Facing Ye Huaiyao, Yuan Xian brought both palms together, trapping the folding fan between them. With a smile, he said, “Young Master Ye, why press him so hard?”
The two had been Daoist companions for so many years. Although their relationship had long existed in name alone, they still understood each other to a certain extent. Ye Huaiyao knew very well how formidable Yuan Xian’s palm power was. In his current condition, he was certainly no match for him, so he did not stubbornly force his spiritual power against Yuan Xian’s.
He simply stood there. Yuan Xian likewise did not pursue the attack. After the two remained locked in place for a moment, Ye Huaiyao curved his lips into a faint smile and released the folding fan.
He gave a lazy little laugh, then leisurely straightened his robes before saying, “Does Young Master Yuan like this fan very much? Unfortunately, a gentleman does not take what belongs to another. This thing isn’t mine, so I cannot give it to you. My apologies.”
He had just endured a fierce battle, and there were inevitably traces of disarray upon him, yet his bearing remained elegant, his words and laughter relaxed and effortless. Combined with that peerlessly beautiful face, there was scarcely a single thing about him that did not make the heart race.
His words carried a double meaning. First, by referring to the fan, he was subtly mocking Yuan Xian for intervening so abruptly and abandoning proper decorum. Then, by once again invoking the saying that a gentleman should not take what belongs to another, he reminded everyone of the very cause of this entire dispute.
Yuan Xian was no less quick-witted. Although Ye Huaiyao’s remark had been neither harsh nor direct, it had still left him thoroughly cornered. He had plenty of words with which he could have retorted. But seeing Ye Huaiyao standing before him like this, memories of the past suddenly flashed through his mind. For once, Yuan Xian found himself speechless.
The surrounding crowd also fell silent. They looked at Yan Jin, who stood disheveled behind Yuan Xian. Even those members of the Yan family who were most unwilling to admit it had no choice but to acknowledge the truth. Ye Huaiyao had won.
They exchanged glances, each seeing the shock reflected in the other’s eyes. At that moment, everyone watching the battle reached the same conclusion.
This young man’s future was limitless. His rise to fame as a young hero would begin with this very battle.
Yuan Xian slowly withdrew his attack and placed the folding fan in front of Yan Jin.
A moment earlier, he had secretly tried to activate the Daoist Companion Contract, intending to test Ye Huaiyao’s identity. But the contract had produced no response whatsoever.
Could this Ye Huaiyao truly not be the Illustrious Sage, Lord Yunqi? And yet, how could there possibly be another person in this world like him…?
Yan Jin was soaked from head to toe. His clothes were riddled with scorched holes left by the lightning. He had never been reduced to such a miserable state in his entire life. His fair face had turned a deep purplish red. He could only glare furiously at Ye Huaiyao, unable to utter a single word.
How could he possibly have lost? And how could he possibly have lost to someone he had regarded as a worthless cripple?
Chu Liang’s expression was grim as he hurried out from the crowd and caught Yan Jin by the arm, lest he become so enraged that he vomited blood.
From beginning to end, Chu Liang had never approved of his shidi’s arrogant behavior. But he couldn’t control Yan Jin. And now, after Yan Jin had embarrassed himself, Chu Liang was the one who had to clean up the mess.
Maintaining his composure, Chu Liang first courteously thanked Yuan Xian for coming to their aid. Only then did he turn toward Ye Huaiyao:
“Young Master Ye has won this round. The Leopard King should rightfully belong to Young Master Ye and that young brother. My shidi’s words and actions earlier were excessive and offensive. I hope Young Master Ye can forgive him.”
Yan Jin’s lips moved. He knew that the more he said now, the more humiliating it would become. In the end, he remained silent, tacitly accepting his shixiong’s apology on his behalf. His chest felt so stifled with rage that he was practically ready to vomit blood.
Ye Huaiyao smiled faintly, “Think nothing of it. Victory and defeat are ordinary things. A single loss means little. Young Master Yan, please don’t take it to heart. You should take care of your health.”
His smile was radiant as spring flowers, and his words were so considerate that they seemed to brighten the hearts of everyone who heard them. Chu Liang’s eyes lit up. He suddenly found himself developing a favourable impression of Ye Huaiyao. Just as he was beginning to relax, however, Ye Huaiyao spoke in an unhurried, gentle voice:
“There’s just one thing. That agreement we made earlier… still needs to be fulfilled, doesn’t it?”
Yan Jin’s expression changed instantly. If he had possessed even a little strength left, he would have leapt up in fury. Chu Liang froze. He still hadn’t understood.
He had completely forgotten what had been said at the beginning. Wasn’t the Leopard King already being given to Ye Huaiyao? What else could he possibly want?
Thus, Chu Liang asked casually, “What agreement?”
