The Eve of the Sword Duel, Hantian Sets a Cruel Trap

The night wind slipped through the window cracks, making the jade slip on the corner of the table tremble slightly. I leaned back against the chair, the residual warmth from engraving the defense formation still on my fingertips. Three strands of Heaven-Slaying Origin flowed slowly within me, and the ninth Remnant Dao Crystal had sunk deep into my marrow, faintly resonating with the other eight. The System operated silently, its absorption rate for Origin quietly accelerating due to "imminent danger."

Just then, the courtyard gate was kicked open.

Afu stumbled in, his dusty short tunic stained with mud and a tear in the lapel. He panted, his voice low, "Young Master... something's happened!"

I didn't move, only glanced at him.

"Ji Hantian publicly issued a challenge!" He plopped onto the ground, wiping sweat from his brow. "Three days from now, at noon, we duel with swords in the training grounds, life or death! He also had an attendant deliver a message, saying if you don't accept, you're a coward who forfeits, and according to Clan Rules—you'll be expelled from the Direct Lineage!"

I gently tapped the tabletop, my knuckles making a crisp sound.

"Did he say which sword?"

Afu blinked, then quickly nodded, "The Frost-Breaking Sword. The family heirloom, said to have once slain a demon king."

I lowered my gaze.

The Frost-Breaking Sword was the ceremonial weapon designated by the Ji family elders, usually kept sealed in the Ancestral Hall and only brought out for major duels. On the surface, it was a fair fight, but it hid a deadly trap—since it was a designated weapon, it meant both sides had to use it. A sword that could be easily tampered with was never a weapon, but a trap.

I knew what Ji Hantian was planning. After a series of setbacks, being publicly humiliated by Yan Jiuxiao, and then being confined for three months, he had finally broken free and his first act was to establish his dominance over me. He didn't care about winning; he cared about making me look foolish in public, preferably driving me mad and out of control, turning me into a laughingstock.

This move was ruthless.

But I couldn't back down.

If I retreated, my three years of forbearance would become a joke. Those hidden eyes would immediately focus on me, questioning whether my Wasted Meridian was truly irreversible. Even a moment's doubt could lead to unnecessary scrutiny. Although the Pseudo-Primordial Body could fool ordinary senses, it couldn't withstand a personal examination by a high-level cultivator.

Therefore, I had to accept the challenge.

But not by his rules.

***

Candlelight flickered in the secret room, casting distorted shadows on the walls. Ji Hantian stood before a bronze cauldron, cutting open his left palm. Blood dripped into a black jade bottle. The liquid inside was crimson like a living thing, emitting a faint glow, as if something was wriggling within.

Mo Xuan emerged from the shadows, twelve fine needles hanging from his sleeves, his voice hoarse, "That Blood Gu is extremely unstable. If it backfires, the one wielding the sword will also be injured."

"It's fine if I get hurt," Ji Hantian sneered, inverting the bottle. A few drops of thick blood slid down the sword groove, seeping into the patterns of the Frost-Breaking Sword. "I don't want a sure win; I want him to go mad in public, bite people, self-mutilate, beg for mercy on his knees... let everyone see what kind of so-called Direct Lineage young master he is, just a lunatic and a waste!"

He raised his right hand, spiritual mist swirling upwards, enveloping the sword's body and concealing the faint, almost imperceptible scent of blood. When he opened his eyes again, there was no trace of reason left, only ferocity.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. He immediately restrained his aura, adopting a refined expression, and turned to greet the newcomer.

"Great Elder, rest assured. Three days from now, I will make that waste of bone lose all face."

***

In the middle of the night, rustling sounds came from outside the window.

I remained in my original position, a wooden sword resting across my knees, my eyes unclosed. The door was pushed open a crack, and Afu poked his head in. After looking around, he tiptoed closer.

"Young Master..." He pulled out a wooden sword from his embrace and handed it to me. "I got this from the offering table in the Ancestral Hall. It's not sharpened and carries no killing intent. They plan to tamper with the sword; using this is better than touching that real one."

I took the wooden sword. It was light in my hand, its grain clear. It was a ritual implement carved from old huái wood, useless in the eyes of ordinary people. But in certain rituals, such unrefined wooden objects were the cleanest—they didn't carry karma, attract resentment, or get contaminated by Demonic Qi.

I ran my fingers over the sword's surface and suddenly smiled, "Afu, you're even greedier than I thought."

He blinked, "Huh?"

"Otherwise, why would you dare take such a risk for me?"

He scratched his head and chuckled, though his face looked weary. Before leaving, he hesitated, "Young Master... if you can't win, can you... surrender first? A living dog is better than a dead lion..."

I didn't answer.

He didn't wait for a reply and quietly retreated.

After the door closed, I looked down at the wooden sword in my hand, my fingertips slowly tracing the edge of the blade. The Heaven-Slaying Origin within me quietly accelerated. Stimulated by both "enemy pressure" and "dangerous situation," with every breath, I gathered more tribulation energy and Battle Intent Fragments.

This Pseudo-Primordial Body was no longer the helpless husk of the past.

***

As dawn broke, the estate buzzed with activity.

An attendant personally delivered an invitation, stating that Ji Hantian had set up a stage in the training grounds and invited the entire clan to witness. Even a few elders in seclusion were alerted and sent people to confirm the news.

I had Afu accept the invitation, ate breakfast as usual, and then returned to my room to sit in meditation. The wooden sword lay on my lap, like an ordinary decoration.

Drums and gongs began outside, and the crowd grew noisy.

I knew they were waiting for me to falter, for me to panic, for me to walk through the crowd with my head down as I had for the past three years, enduring pointing fingers and ridicule. But today was different.

Today, I was here to break the stalemate.

Afu secretly slipped me a pill, saying it was Spirit-Calming Powder from the pharmacy, which could prevent evil energy from entering the body. I didn't take it, merely tucking it into my sleeve. What truly needed guarding against wasn't the invasion of Demonic Blood, but the schemes of men.

As evening approached, he sneaked in again, his face pale. "Young Master, I overheard the guards saying... someone saw Mo Xuan enter Hantian's secret room last night, and he was holding a black jade bottle when he came out..."

I nodded, remaining silent.

Afu gritted his teeth, "They actually dare to use Heart-Devouring Gu Blood? Just a little contact with that stuff drives people mad, they'd even attack their own mothers..."

"That's why he's not afraid of me winning," I said, my voice very soft. "He's afraid I won't touch that sword."

Afu froze.

I looked up at the window. The setting sun cast its rays inside, landing on the tip of the wooden sword, reflecting a faint golden light. This sword, seemingly ordinary, was the only medium that wouldn't be corroded by Demonic Qi—because it wasn't part of the combat system to begin with, and it had never carried killing intent.

This is precisely why it could evade all detection and become the true key to breaking the stalemate.

"You can go back," I said. "Don't go to the training grounds tomorrow."

"Why?" he asked anxiously. "I have to watch over you! What if..."

"You'll die," I interrupted him. "If I lose, your presence is useless. If I win, you shouldn't be there anyway."

His lips moved, and he finally lowered his head, retreating silently.

The moment the door closed, I gripped the wooden sword.

The hilt was warm and smooth, fitting into my palm as if it had a life of its own.

Bells chimed in the distance, one after another, signaling the pre-battle purification ritual. Each chime meant another step closer to noon tomorrow.

I closed my eyes, the Heaven-Slaying Origin within me surging like a river. Due to being "suppressed for so long" and "the enemy's approach," its accumulation speed had reached its peak in recent days. I just needed to endure one more night. By the time the sun was at its zenith, the Frost-Breaking Sword, coated in Demonic Blood, would become a joke in my hands.

Ji Hantian wouldn't realize that his meticulously planned killing game had targeted the wrong person from the very beginning.

I was not the useless young master he could trample on.

I was the one waiting for him to make a move so I could counter-kill.

The wind outside grew colder, rustling the window paper.

I opened my eyes and stared at the Jade Slip on the table—the blind spot of the seventh checkpoint was still marked with the scratch I made last night.

My finger slowly moved over, gently tracing the line.

Then, I grasped the edge.