Wuya Sect.
Rear Mountain.
The deepest reaches.
The mountains were shrouded in mist that never dispersed year-round, and immortal cranes would occasionally soar into the sky.
Purple rosy light diffused through the mist, presenting an auspicious scene worthy of an immortal cultivation sanctuary.
Venerable Xi Hua.
A Grand Elder of her generation.
Her name had once shaken the world.
When she crossed hands with the ascended Jian Wushuang, she had not been defeated within the first three moves.
That record alone was enough to let her stand peerless beneath the heavens.
And in truth, she had indeed deserved that title.
When the crisis of the Supreme Alliance's assault came.
She had also been the first to step forth and fend off the powerful enemy, holding up the Wuya Sect when it seemed, in the eyes of the world, to be a rain-battered boat on the verge of capsizing.
In a bamboo grove on the Rear Mountain, a young woman with yellow hair sat cross-legged.
Dressed as a man, she stood tall and carried a touch of handsome charm.
A moment later, she opened her eyes and tried to grasp a stalk of bamboo before her.
She wished to use bamboo as a sword.
Suddenly.
Her arm began to tremble uncontrollably, unable to hold the sword in her palm.
Her sword heart trembled in tandem.
A peerless prodigy whose swordsmanship had once known no equal, could not even hold a tiny stalk of bamboo now.
How laughable.
Jian Wushuang gritted her teeth and persisted, but finally spat out a mouthful of blood.
She stared at the bamboo sword that had long since slipped free and fallen to the ground, then let out a sigh.
If Jian Wushuang could not hold a sword, how could she still speak of the word peerless?