Chapter Eighty-Two: Testing the Waters

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At this moment, atop Blackstone Square, most eyes were fixed upon the unruffled Qin Yi in the south. Compared to the other duel, the reputation of Qin Yi certainly drew far more attention.

Zhu Chunfu watched as the female disciple floated down from the loft before him—something he had not expected at all.

Jiang Yao, meanwhile, was beaming with delight.

Many on Blackstone Square now saw the woman in the pale blue Daoist robe. Though her appearance and bearing fell short of Jiang Yao’s, she was still considered a beauty even among the flower-strewn Snowdrift Peak, let alone among the disciples from other peaks of Taiyi Mountain, who rarely encountered female disciples.

Qin Yi immediately recognized her, his lips twitching as he looked up at Zhu Chunfu, only to find Zhu Chunfu squinting at him and Jiang Yao smiling brightly. Qin Yi felt his head throb. Why did it have to be her? He had assumed this match would be an easy victory, but now faced her, he was utterly at a loss.

“Sister-in-law, how have you been?” Qin Yi managed a forced smile, shamelessly greeting her.

From the loft above, Zhu Chunfu and Jiang Yao seemed to have caught Qin Yi’s faint words, both smiling, especially Zhu Chunfu, whose grin was dazzling.

“So young, yet so glib—what will you be like in the future? Watch how I teach you a lesson on behalf of Sister Jiang Yao!” Lin Yuxiao, unamused, allowed her three-foot sword at her waist to hum, unleashing sharp, chilling sword energy that surged toward Qin Yi.

Qin Yi remained composed, his own Feixue sword ringing out, blocking the incoming sword energy.

Seeing this, Lin Yuxiao grew more serious. It was no surprise that Qin Yi had achieved Nascent Soul transformation after only four years; even disciples with less talent, like Wang Yuncheng, had long since reached this stage.

“Sister Yuxiao, please, don’t hold back,” Qin Yi said with a smile, though he felt troubled. How should he proceed? Lin Yuxiao cultivated the way of the sword, and Qin Yi was entirely confident he could outmatch this former junior sister of his, now addressed as senior.

Yet, she was not merely ornamental; to represent her peak in battle, she certainly had some skill. Qin Yi, however, was restraining himself—after all, this was Snowdrift Peak; if not for Uncle Xue, at least for Jiang Yao’s sake, he had to show some courtesy. The girl seemed to notice she kept gaining the upper hand but could not press further. Observing Qin Yi’s calm demeanor, she finally grew angry.

With a furious strike, she lunged at Qin Yi, who immediately sensed the shift in Lin Yuxiao’s momentum. Unable to block in time, he sidestepped, then Feixue’s blade flicked toward Lin Yuxiao, and before she realized, Feixue was already at her snowy neck.

Qin Yi looked up, smiling at Jiang Yao in the loft, his meaning clear. Unexpectedly, the girl acted as if she hadn’t seen it, while Zhu Chunfu’s gaze toward Qin Yi grew less friendly.

Qin Yi felt helpless. Events had taken a turn far from what he had intended.

While Qin Yi was distracted, Lin Yuxiao seized the moment to escape and relentlessly attacked him again. Qin Yi was exasperated. He subdued Lin Yuxiao several times, yet Jiang Yao continued to ignore it. By now, not only Qin Yi but even the spectators were sighing in frustration. Were it not for Jiang Yao’s formidable reputation and authority on Taiyi Mountain, people would have started cursing outright.

Qin Yi subdued Lin Yuxiao yet again, looking to Jiang Yao in the loft, only to find her expression now full of helplessness, like someone playing the lute to a cow.

Bewildered, Qin Yi glanced at Zhu Chunfu, whose gaze remained unfriendly. Finally, Qin Yi understood.

This time, he showed no mercy, not with his sword but with a palm strike aimed at Lin Yuxiao. She tried to dodge, but Qin Yi’s powerful blow sent her flying. He had no concern for this possible future sister-in-law, for his strike had no real harm—he only meant to send her off.

As expected, Zhu Chunfu could no longer stay put. His bulky form swept down from the loft, catching Lin Yuxiao.

Falling onto Zhu Chunfu’s ample frame was hardly painful—if anything, it was exceedingly comfortable. Soon she regained her composure, slipped out of Zhu Chunfu’s embrace, and angrily rode her sword back to the loft. Zhu Chunfu smacked his lips, clearly somewhat reluctant, and then glared at Qin Yi. “Brat, don’t you know to show some restraint?”

Qin Yi was helpless. As the ancients said, those involved are confused, those watching see clearly. The saying proved true.

The other match had ended much earlier, surprising Qin Yi somewhat. The winner was a Snowdrift Peak disciple, a strikingly attractive young woman. Owing to the tediousness of Qin Yi’s duel with Lin Yuxiao, many eyes drawn by Qin Yi now watched this Snowdrift Peak woman. She was formidable, quickly eliminating her opponent, a strong male disciple from the main peak, Clear Void Peak.

Qin Yi returned to the loft, tilting his head at Jiang Yao.

Jiang Yao smiled, then rose and rode her sword away. Qin Yi followed; the two matches at Snowdrift Peak were over, and she had no reason to linger.

Moments later, the two arrived at the cliffside, at Jiang Yao’s solitary cliffside pavilion. Qin Yi embraced her from behind, laughing, “Snotty Yao, are you so eager to marry over to Cloud Island and become my little wife?”

Jiang Yao did not break free; after all, there was no one around. She turned to face Qin Yi and smiled, “Brother Zhu has liked Yuxiao for quite some time. We’re just going with the flow; whether it works depends on the two of them.”

Qin Yi hugged her slim waist, laughing, “You really have no confidence that I can persuade Uncle Xue?”

Jiang Yao replied, somewhat helpless, “Among you brothers, my master likes Brother Zhu best. If he can’t succeed, you might as well be dreaming.”

Qin Yi immediately declared loudly, “She wouldn’t dare! Believe it or not, if it comes to it, I’ll snatch you away, and I’ll make my master snatch her, too!”

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Jiang Yao laughed but said nothing.

“Mm-hmm…!” An abrupt voice sounded, Qin Yi’s lips twitched, and Jiang Yao quickly slipped from his arms, bowing to the loft’s roof, “Master, you’re here!”

“Greetings, Uncle Xue,” Qin Yi said, perfunctory in manner.

On the loft’s roof, Xue Songmei, who seemed to have been sitting there all along, squinted at them. “I always knew you were up to no good, and it’s true.”

Qin Yi replied evasively, “Oh! Uncle, why are you here alone? Hasn’t my master come looking for you?”

Xue Songmei’s expression darkened.

Qin Yi continued, “Uncle, you watched Jiang Yao and me grow up. You know my temperament. I know you can’t let go of Jiang Yao, but I promise, one day, even if you don’t want her to marry to Cloud Island, I’ll take her anyway.”

Xue Songmei shot him a cold look. “Your words grow bolder every day, just like Zixuan back then. Neither of you is any good.”

Qin Yi’s head ached. His master, that old rascal, what exactly happened between him and Uncle Xue all those years ago? Hundreds of years had passed, yet grudges remained. Uncle Xue, a cultivator with centuries of cultivation, should have excellent self-control, but…

As a result, Qin Yi was the one suffering. Jiang Yao always listened to her master; if her master firmly opposed, Qin Yi truly had a problem.

Fortunately, Xue Songmei departed after her words, sparing Qin Yi further discomfort.

Jiang Yao smiled at him, and Qin Yi felt his head ache, muttering helplessly, “Whether she agrees or not, we’ll see once the rice is cooked.”

Jiang Yao shook her head, her meaning clear—impossible.

Qin Yi, thoroughly vexed, could only laugh, “I have another match tomorrow, I’ll head back first.”

But Jiang Yao tilted her head, “I recall you drew the slot that doesn’t require you to compete tomorrow, didn’t you?”

Qin Yi’s headache persisted, knowing he couldn’t leave, so he sat at the wooden table, “Come, Jiang Yao, it’s been ages since we sat together for a good chat. Tonight, I’ll talk with you to my heart’s content.”

A strong opening, but it turned out Jiang Yao spent the evening lecturing him, right into the night, refusing to let him stay, insisting he leave. Bored, Qin Yi listened to Jiang Yao’s endless reasoning all day, only to be denied lodging.

Thus, Qin Yi, deeply annoyed, rode his sword back to Cloud Island alone.

Back at Cloud Island, Qin Yi stayed awake all night. Though Jiang Yao’s arguments were bothersome, they were sound. Qin Yi tried to embrace these ideas, but found them contrary to his heart; any further conflict might unsettle his Dao mind. Yet he struggled on, until dawn approached, when exhaustion finally claimed him. Even cultivators are not immune to fatigue, especially when troubled.

He did not wake until sunset the next day, feeling utterly drained. Not alone in his room—Jiang Yao was there, not Zixuan Immortal or Zhu Chunfu. Seeing him awake, Jiang Yao picked up the food she had evidently prepared long ago, smiling, “Eat something.”

Qin Yi did not open his mouth. Instead, he hugged her tightly, closed his eyes, unwilling to let go. Jiang Yao embraced him in return, comforting him. After a long silence, Qin Yi whispered, “I will make Uncle Xue agree to let you marry over.”

The silence lingered; neither spoke again. Only when Qin Yi drifted back to sleep did Jiang Yao quietly depart for Snowdrift Peak.

“Master,” Jiang Yao said upon returning to her pavilion, gazing at Xue Songmei on the balcony, somewhat helpless.

Xue Songmei glared at Jiang Yao, “You’ve grown up, your wings are strong—you dare disobey your master now.”

Jiang Yao, helpless, helped Xue Songmei to sit at the wooden table, then said, “So many years have passed, yet Master still cannot trust me to him. But Master knows, I will only follow him in this life. You knew it even when we were children. I know what kind of person Qin Yi is, and so do you.”

Xue Songmei sipped her tea, her tone cold, “Precisely because I know what kind of person he is, I cannot trust him. Besides, given his current strength, such things must not happen a second time.”

Jiang Yao lazily leaned behind Xue Songmei, murmuring, “I know Master only wants what’s best for me, but I trust Qin Yi.”

Xue Songmei retorted coldly, “Hmph! You trust that brat, do you? Then let him try and take you from my hands someday!”

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Jiang Yao’s smile grew radiant, “He will, Master. Just wait! When the time comes, I’ll remind Uncle Zixuan to join in, too.”

Perhaps because the two had never spoken so frankly before, Xue Songmei’s icy expression inexplicably flushed warm. She said nothing, simply rose and rode her sword away.

Jiang Yao watched, her smile deepening, and returned to her residence.

The next morning, Qin Yi awoke feeling invigorated. After sleeping a day and night, his spirits restored, he set out. Today was the quarterfinals; yesterday he had lucked out, advancing by default, but today he would have to compete. His match was set at South Flower Peak, likely presided over by Gu Beishan.

Zhu Chunfu did not accompany him today, and Qin Yi suspected he was not even on Cloud Island—perhaps off early to visit his beloved Yuxiao at Snowdrift Peak.

Qin Yi rode his sword alone to South Flower Peak. South Flower and Snowdrift, two extremes—though both belonged to central Taiyi Mountain, Snowdrift was ever snowy, while South Flower was eternally green. Verdant growth covered the entire peak, brimming with life, rare towering Yi trees scattered throughout. Even the hidden pavilions among the forests were bathed in emerald hues.

South Flower Peak was a vital place on Taiyi Mountain, for its precious Yi wood all came from here; only such a place, with abundant rain and warmth year-round, suited the growth of Yi saplings.

Qin Yi was familiar with the path, having visited in his previous life.

As expected, today the place was crowded, but Qin Yi was surprised not to see Gu Beishan. Instead, he saw the chief disciple of the Discipline Hall, who would likely preside. Curiosity prompted Qin Yi to ask a new disciple of South Flower Peak, “Brother, will Master Nan Hua not host today’s match in person?”

The new disciple responded warmly, “I heard from the seniors that Master has been in seclusion recently, so these days Brother Mu is presiding.”

Qin Yi understood, but hadn’t expected that Mu Fengqing, who himself competed, would also host others’ matches. Qin Yi, observing the throngs on the blue stone square, asked, “Why so many people today?”

The new disciple looked at Qin Yi in surprise, “Don’t you know whose match it is?”

“Is it because of Qin Yi?” Qin Yi’s lips twitched. Even if his status was special, the atmosphere was like a finals—what was going on?

The new disciple shook his head, disappointing Qin Yi, “You only know it’s because of Qin Yi, but not the real reason.”

“Oh?” Qin Yi responded, realizing he hadn’t checked his opponent beforehand. He didn’t care—he was aiming for the championship. No matter how strong, he’d face them eventually.

The new disciple continued, “I hear his opponent is the young master of the Qian family, one of the Three Great Families of the South Sea, now a disciple of Jade Spirit Peak, Qian Fu.”

Qin Yi scoffed, “I heard Qin Yi is a supreme Dao embryo; Qian Fu shouldn’t be his match.”

He hadn’t expected a Dan cultivator like Qian Fu to pass the first round. Each branch sent five strong disciples, and Dan cultivators were known for lower combat prowess—a consensus among Shenzhou cultivators. On Cloud Island, although Zhu Chunfu’s cultivation surpassed his, he was recognized as the weakest in battle. Of course, those who attained the Dao in Dan arts wielded alchemical fire as potent as any artifact. But Qian Fu was nowhere near such prowess—not even on the path.

The new disciple explained, “But Qian Fu breezed through the first round. And you may not know, but recently, in the South Sea incident, Qin Yi killed the old Qian family patriarch.”

The new disciple continued in awe, “Our Qin Yi is remarkable—only at Nascent Soul stage, yet able to kill the Qian patriarch. Though I don’t quite believe the rumors, where there’s smoke there’s fire. Since such a story’s spread, it must be tied to our Qin Yi.”

Qin Yi’s expression darkened as he listened. It seemed the Qian family blamed him for the killing. Yet, thinking back, the stunningly beautiful woman in colorful robes had vanished without a trace; he knew neither her origins nor her age. Her ability to destroy Qian Zhouliang in an instant was terrifying. To seek such an almighty figure was futile.

Qin Yi sighed—he would be at odds with the Qian family for a long time.

No matter. He neither knew the colorful-robed woman’s identity nor cared to pursue safety through such means.

The next moment, Qin Yi strode toward the center of the blue stone square.

The new disciple watched, initially puzzled, but then saw Qin Yi stand at the square’s center. Even a fool could see what was happening.