Several months of peaceful (utterly chaotic) days passed before Qingyunzi, the sect master of the Qingyun Sect, personally came to the back mountain to visit Li Wuyang.
"Fellow Daoist Li, have you grown accustomed to living here?" Qingyunzi asked with a warm smile.
"Pretty good, pretty good. Beautiful mountains, clear waters, spiritual energy... uh, not bad." Li Wuyang laughed awkwardly. He couldn't exactly say he had been tormented half to death by his own little mud doll, could he?
"As long as you're accustomed to it." Qingyunzi stroked his beard and smiled. "I came today to ask a favor. Our Qingyun Sect's triennial outer sect disciple tournament is about to begin, and I would like to invite Fellow Daoist Li to serve as a judge. What do you think?"
"A judge?" Li Wuyang froze and pointed at his own nose. "Me? You want me to judge your disciples' tournament?" He was an Earth Immortal—a true expert in the Spiritual Stream Realm—judging matches between little Foundation Establishment and Qi Refinement cultivators? Wasn't that like using an anti-aircraft gun to swat mosquitoes?
Qingyunzi hurriedly said, "Your cultivation is profound and your knowledge extensive"—at least, that was his guess—"and if you could offer them a few pointers, it would be an immense blessing for our sect's disciples. Besides..." He lowered his voice. "Hundred Herbs Valley and Tiangong Workshop will also be sending people to observe this tournament. If you could preside over it, it would also bolster the prestige of our Qingyun Sect."
Li Wuyang understood. They wanted to borrow the intimidating reputation of an "unworldly expert" like him to frighten their competitors. He had initially wanted to refuse, but then he reconsidered. Staying in the cave abode all day was rather boring anyway. It would be nice to go out and watch the excitement, while also seeing what level the young cultivators of the Spiritual Stream Realm had reached.
"Fine. I'm idle anyway." Li Wuyang agreed.
Qingyunzi was overjoyed and thanked him repeatedly.
Three days later, the Qingyun Sect's martial arts arena was packed with people. The outer sect disciple tournament officially began. On the elevated platform, Li Wuyang sat beside Qingyunzi as a specially invited judge, while Xuan remained cool and aloof, sitting a little farther away with his eyes closed in meditation, utterly uninterested in the commotion below.
The competition... looked like children playing house to Li Wuyang.
Two Foundation Establishment disciples exchanged techniques, their flying swords darting back and forth as spells burst with loud bangs. The spectators below cheered without pause. Li Wuyang yawned repeatedly. Those swords were as slow as snails, and the power of those spells... was too weak even to scratch an itch.
"Fellow Daoist Li, what do you think of that disciple? His swordsmanship is fierce; he is one of the finest among our outer sect!" Qingyunzi asked proudly, pointing at a white-robed youth in the arena.
Li Wuyang glanced over and casually remarked, "His stance is unstable, his true qi is flimsy, his sword intent is scattered, and he's full of openings. Where I come from, he'd take up too much room even as cannon fodder."
The smile on Qingyunzi's face instantly froze. The white-robed youth below, who had been smug just moments ago, slipped at the comment and nearly fell flat on his face. His swordplay became even more disordered.
The other elders looked at one another in dismay. That evaluation... was far too harsh, wasn't it?
Over the next several matches, Li Wuyang's "venomous commentary" never stopped.
"This Fireball Technique—are you planning to light your opponent's cigarette?"
"Your movement technique is decent. Too bad you only use it to run away."
"Are you two fighting or dancing the tango? Your sense of rhythm is awful!"
"Sigh, I can't watch this anymore. Give me a spiritual fruit to chew on."
After that round of commentary, the disciples in the arena completely lost their composure. Some performed abnormally, while others began questioning their entire lives. The audience below shifted from initial excitement to hushed whispers and sympathy.
The observers from Hundred Herbs Valley and Tiangong Workshop had originally intended to pick faults, but after hearing Li Wuyang's comments, they all fell silent. This senior's eye... was far too sharp! His words were unpleasant, but every sentence seemed to make sense.
Cold sweat streamed down Qingyunzi's face, and he began to regret inviting this lord to be a judge. This was not building prestige—it was tearing down the stage!
At last, it was time for the final match, a showdown between two late-stage Foundation Establishment disciples. They were considered the foremost experts of the outer sect. The two fought back and forth, sword qi crisscrossing through the air in a rather spectacular display, finally allowing Qingyunzi to recover a little dignity.
"Fellow Daoist Li, what do you think of these two..." Qingyunzi asked cautiously.
Li Wuyang chewed on a spiritual fruit and mumbled, "Mm, passable. Better than the previous ones. Under my hand... they could probably last one move."
He was merely speaking the truth, but to everyone else, it sounded outrageously arrogant! The two disciples who were still fighting nearly suffered a reversal of their true qi in fury. Their attacks became even fiercer, and they wished they could defeat their opponent immediately and challenge Li Wuyang.
In the end, a disciple named Han Li—cough, cough, the duplicate name was purely coincidental—won by a narrow margin and claimed first place. Though victorious, he was thoroughly angered by Li Wuyang's assessment. Young and hot-blooded, he could not help cupping his fists toward the elevated platform. "This disciple, Han Li, was fortunate enough to win! I have long heard that Senior Li's cultivation reaches the heavens. Might you offer me some guidance and broaden this disciple's horizons?"
The entire arena instantly fell silent, and everyone looked toward Li Wuyang. Qingyunzi inwardly cried out in alarm and wanted to stop him.
But Li Wuyang smiled. Tossing away the fruit pit, he rose to his feet and said lazily, "You want me to guide you? Sure."
He strolled into the arena and crooked a finger at Han Li. "Come on. Use your strongest move."
Han Li took a deep breath, fully circulated his cultivation technique, and summoned his natal flying sword. It transformed into a brilliant streak of light and shot straight at Li Wuyang's face! This strike contained all of his cultivation, and its momentum was astonishing!
The disciples below all held their breath.
Li Wuyang did not move at all. He merely extended two fingers and lightly pinched.
Bzzzz!
That menacing flying sword was like a little fish caught in iron tongs, instantly freezing in midair. No matter how Han Li urged it onward, it did not budge in the slightest!
Li Wuyang yawned and flicked his fingers lightly.
Clang!
The flying sword let out a mournful cry and flew backward, stabbing into the ground before Han Li's feet. Its blade trembled with a hum. Han Li was forced back several steps by the recoil, his face pale and his eyes filled with disbelief.
The entire arena was deathly silent.
Li Wuyang clapped his hands and said to the dumbstruck Han Li, "See that? That's what you call a gap. Train hard, and next time, try to make me use... my second finger."
With that, he turned and strolled back to the elevated platform, leaving behind a back that concealed both his achievements and his fame.
After this incident, Li Wuyang's reputation as "Senior Li"—along with his sharp tongue—spread completely throughout the Qingyun Sect and among low-level cultivators across the entire Spiritual Stream Realm. Everyone learned that an unparalleled expert lived on the back mountain, one who liked to teach people a lesson with two fingers...
(End of Chapter 47)
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