The elegant, divinely handsome young nobleman of Great Chu walked onto the platform as the chief referee, steady as an abyssal pool and firm as a mountain, walked down.
A meeting on the All-Under-Heaven Platform, spoken of so many times, was now realized. They merely passed each other by.
The champion of the previous tournament yielded the stage.
Sun Xiaoman wore a short, front-fastening jacket, a smile on her face. Below her loose, calf-length martial trousers were bare feet, their toe bones like jade. Two braids hung to her waist. That pair of silver bracelets was still tied around her wrists, the little silver hammers swaying gently.
Time had brought her cultivation, but it had not made her any taller—perhaps because she had reached Divine Presence too quickly.
The moment she broke through the twenty-first heaven of Martial Dao, she had become as she was today, still so petite and delicate. Standing among the contestants of the unrestricted division, she looked like some little girl someone had carelessly brought onto the platform.
She would probably fit in better in the Inner Palace Arena, where quite a few children had come this year.
But her aura was deep and still, the exposed skin of her body smooth as jade. Her physique had already become terrifyingly powerful. The qi mechanism throughout her body was perfectly rounded, like a ball of mutton-fat jade that could not be grasped, impossible for an opponent's qi mechanism to lock onto.
You could clearly sense that within her fists lay the power of collapsing mountains and tsunamis.
Her master had once asked her—"What does Jiang Wang mean to you?"
Her answer had been—"A companion from my youth."
Meeting a companion from her youth on the All-Under-Heaven Platform carried the joy of meeting at the summit.
Though she