The list for the semi-finals was posted on the notice board at the entrance of the Affairs Hall. The board was surrounded by layers of people, their discussions buzzing in a collective hum.
Bai Qingxue stood outside the crowd, not bothering to squeeze in.
She didn't like crowded places, nor did she need to check the notice board to confirm her opponent.
However, Lu Xueqing went ahead to check for her, and when she walked back, her expression was somewhat subtle.
“Junior Sister, you're up against Zhao Heng from Qingyun Peak,” Lu Xueqing said. “He's the one who defeated Junior Sister Ye in the last round.”
Bai Qingxue didn't respond.
Lu Xueqing continued, “The other match is Shen Moyuan against Su Wan from Chixia Peak.” Lu Xueqing paused. “Shen Moyuan won his last match very quickly. Despite having a cultivation at the sixth level of Qi Refining, he defeated an opponent at the seventh level. Junior Sister, you must be careful...”
Bai Qingxue glanced at Lu Xueqing and nodded in response before turning to walk toward the arena area.
To Bai Qingxue, it didn't matter who stood on the other side; she only needed to draw her sword.
But as Lu Xueqing's words drifted through her mind, Bai Qingxue suddenly remembered the pale green figure from yesterday and the way the girl had refused to back down on the stage.
The memory lasted only a moment before fading away.
Bai Qingxue withdrew her thoughts and quickened her pace.
By the arena, a deacon was calling out numbers.
When Bai Qingxue stepped onto the stage, someone was already standing opposite her.
It was Zhao Heng from Qingyun Peak, at the sixth level of Qi Refining. He was currently holding a long sword.
Seeing Bai Qingxue, Zhao Heng's expression tightened visibly. After so many matches, Bai Qingxue's reputation was known to almost everyone.
As the deacon gave the command, Zhao Heng did not rush into an attack. Instead, he stood his ground on high alert, holding his sword horizontally in front of him. The tip of the blade trembled slightly, ready to strike at any moment.
Clearly, Zhao Heng had studied Bai Qingxue's fighting style. He didn't intend to give her a chance to get close, nor did he plan to let her freeze his meridians easily with her Ice Spirit power.
He was determined to use distance to wear her down and his sword intent to block her, ensuring she never stepped within three paces of him.
Seeing this, Bai Qingxue immediately unleashed Frost.
Instantly, frost mist exploded in the center of the arena, and a thick white fog shrouded half the stage.
Zhao Heng's vision was obscured, and he instinctively took half a step back. However, he had already prepared for this. He quickly swung his sword in a wide arc before him, attempting to seal off all possible directions of attack.
Strangely, there was no movement within the mist. The sword strike he expected never came.
At that moment, Bai Qingxue stood where she was, her gaze distant. Cold energy seeped from her palms, condensing into three ice needles that hovered silently by her side before shooting forward.
The ice needles bypassed Zhao Heng's sword from three different directions, pinning themselves into his wrist, elbow, and shoulder. Though the wounds weren't deep, the chill instantly seeped into his meridians through the needle tips, precisely sealing three acupoints in his right arm.
Zhao Heng's sword slipped from his hand, hitting the ground with a loud clang.
His entire right arm froze instantly. From his fingertips to his shoulder, it felt as though it had been turned to ice; he couldn't even clench his fist.
The entire venue fell silent for a moment.
“What happened? Why did Zhao Heng suddenly drop his sword?”
“Look closely. Bai Qingxue hit Zhao Heng with ice needles. Her spiritual power seems to have some kind of special effect!”
“This Bai Qingxue... how many more tricks does she have hidden?”
Zhao Heng looked down at his frozen right arm, then at Bai Qingxue.
His left hand was still free, and he clearly still had the strength to fight. But feeling the cold constantly radiating from his right arm, he thought for a moment before letting out a bitter smile. He leaned over, picked up his sword, and nodded to the deacon.
“I admit defeat.” It was clean and decisive.
The deacon announced Bai Qingxue as the winner.
On the other arena, Shen Moyuan's match had also ended.
Shen Moyuan had broken through Su Wan's fire wall with a single strike, his sword tip stopping an inch from her throat. Like Bai Qingxue, it was a clean and decisive victory.
In the corridor, Bai Qingxue and Shen Moyuan met face-to-face.
Shen Moyuan had changed into a clean, ink-black Daoist robe. The pitch-black sword hung at his waist, and his hair was tied back meticulously.
Seeing Bai Qingxue, he didn't stop his pace. Only as they passed each other did he turn his head slightly, offering a faint smile and cupping his hands.
“See you in the finals.”
The four words were polite in tone, and his smile was proper.
But in Bai Qingxue's eyes, that smile didn't reach his eyes.
Shen Moyuan's eyes were calm—so calm they were like a pool of stagnant water. If he was so calm, why was he smiling?
Bai Qingxue couldn't quite describe it, but overall, Shen Moyuan gave her a very strange sense of dissonance.
Bai Qingxue looked at Shen Moyuan without returning the gesture, without nodding, and without even stopping. She simply continued walking forward, brushing past him.
Shen Moyuan's hand froze in mid-air, but his smile didn't change.
After Bai Qingxue had walked past, his fingers slowly curled inward as he lowered his hand.
He watched Bai Qingxue's retreating back for a couple of breaths before turning to walk in the opposite direction.
No one noticed if his expression changed.
Walking down the corridor, Bai Qingxue's brow furrowed imperceptibly.
She couldn't say exactly what was wrong with that man, but she didn't want to respond to him.
It was an instinctive rejection, a physical reaction that preceded conscious thought—like suddenly seeing something misshapen. Even if you didn't know if it was dangerous, you wouldn't think of getting close to it.
However, Bai Qingxue soon suppressed the thought and continued toward the rest area.
In the crowd, a pale green figure stood in a corner.
Ye Qingyao watched from afar as Bai Qingxue walked down from the arena.
In just a few breaths, the mist on the stage had dissipated, and the outcome had been decided.
She hadn't seen clearly how Bai Qingxue had made her move; she only knew that the opponent's sword had fallen to the ground and his arm had frozen at his side, his voice sounding bitter even as he admitted defeat.
Is this the gap between me and Sister Bai...?
She had only lasted twelve moves before losing to Zhao Heng, yet Sister Bai had taken only a moment to win.
Ye Qingyao clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.
She felt a sense of unwilling. Even though she and Sister Bai were in the same place, it felt as if a wide, deep river separated them.
Ye Qingyao could see the person on the other side and knew Bai Qingxue was there, but she couldn't swim across. She couldn't reach the side where Bai Qingxue stood...
Returning to her seat in the corner, people nearby were still discussing the match, but Ye Qingyao didn't hear a word.
Those voices felt as if they were muffled by a thick layer of cotton, buzzing without leaving any impression.
Ye Qingyao lowered her head and looked at her hands.
Several nail marks had appeared in her palms, and one had even broken the skin, oozing a tiny bead of blood.
Ye Qingyao stared at the blood for a moment before slowly closing her hand, thinking silently to herself.
Next time, she would stand up there.
Next time, she would reach Sister Bai's side.
...
Sister Bai, I am willing to make a vow with you.
From now on, I will no longer stand far away, I will no longer do nothing, and I will no longer let you be alone.
So, Sister Bai, please wait for me.
Qingyao is almost losing sight of your back.
...
Rate on N.U.
