Vaguely, Like Light Clouds Veiling the Moon

The Soul Fighting Arena's rule was that after five consecutive wins, points doubled—but so did the difficulty.

Sure enough, when the matchmaking list came out on the sixth day, Zhou Qiubai saw a familiar name.

Wang Meng.

The burly man who had chatted with him on the first day.

When they met in the contestants' passageway, Wang Meng smiled helplessly. "Brother, sorry about this. It's not that I wanted to fight you. The higher-ups arranged it, you know how it is."

Zhou Qiubai nodded. "I understand."

"But I won't go easy on you." Wang Meng's expression turned serious. "I watched the records of your first five matches. Your swordsmanship is indeed impressive, but today, you'd better be careful."

"Please enlighten me."

The two entered the Branch Soul Arena.

There were noticeably more people in the stands than in the past few days.

A newcomer with five consecutive victories against a seasoned veteran—this match was bound to be worth watching.

After the referee announced the start, Wang Meng did not attack immediately.

Two yellow Soul Rings rose beneath his feet. His body began to swell, dense brown fur grew across his skin, and his hands transformed into bear claws.

Yellow Soul Rings. It seemed this guy was either wealthy or powerful!

Judging from his conversations with Wang Meng, he probably was not a noble, so only those two possibilities fit.

"Level twenty-seven assault-type Soul Master, Wang Meng. Please enlighten me," he said in a low voice.

Zhou Qiubai drew his sword and gave a slight nod. "Level twenty-one assault-type Soul Master, Zhou Qiubai."

As soon as the words fell, Wang Meng moved.

His massive body burst forth with speed utterly disproportionate to his size. His claws swept out, bringing sharp whistles through the air.

Zhou Qiubai did not choose to meet them head-on.

The Floating Cloud Nine Palace Steps unfolded, and he drifted left like willow catkins in the wind.

Wang Meng's claw missed, gouging three deep trenches into the ground.

But he reacted swiftly, twisting at the waist as his other claw swept horizontally toward him.

Zhou Qiubai flicked his blade and tapped toward the center of the claw.

Clang!

Sword and claw collided with a metallic ring.

Wang Meng's claws were as hard as refined iron, but Zhou Qiubai used the force of the exchange to retreat and open the distance.

"They're pretty hard," Zhou Qiubai could not help praising.

"The Iron-Back Bear's defense isn't just for show." Wang Meng grinned as his first Soul Ring lit up. "First Soul Skill, Iron Skin!"

The fur on his body took on a metallic sheen, and his defense increased once more.

Immediately afterward, his second Soul Ring lit up. "Second Soul Skill, Berserk Charge!"

Wang Meng dropped to all fours and charged again like a true giant bear.

This time, he was even faster and more imposing.

Gasps rose from the stands.

Zhou Qiubai's gaze sharpened.

His footwork shifted again. Instead of dodging, he charged straight at Wang Meng.

The distance between them shrank rapidly.

Fifteen meters, nine meters, three meters...

Just as they were about to collide, Zhou Qiubai's body twisted strangely, brushing past Wang Meng's right side.

At the same time, the White Clothes Sword swung backward, its blade lashing across Wang Meng's back like a whip.

Smack!

A crisp sound rang out.

He had used the flat of the sword. Otherwise, Wang Meng would have been crippled if not killed.

Wang Meng's charging momentum came to an abrupt halt. A white mark appeared across his back. His skin had not broken, but the pain burned fiercely.

"So fast!" Wang Meng turned around, the battle intent in his eyes growing stronger. "Again!"

He no longer charged recklessly. Instead, he advanced steadily, his claws attacking like a raging storm.

Every swipe was powerful and heavy, sealing off every avenue Zhou Qiubai could use to evade.

After all these years of fighting in the Soul Fighting Arena, he had not fought for nothing.

Zhou Qiubai's sword style changed accordingly.

No longer were his attacks nimble thrusts and strikes. Instead, he used softness to overcome strength, tangling with Wang Meng. The White Clothes Sword became like silk ribbons, winding, coiling, guiding, and redirecting, dissolving Wang Meng's force one blow at a time. At times, the blade was soft as satin; at others, hard as iron. The transitions between hardness and softness were exquisitely precise.

The stands fell silent. Everyone held their breath, staring without blinking at the brilliant exchange of offense and defense.

The longer Wang Meng fought, the more alarmed he became. He was level twenty-seven, with Soul Power far beyond his opponent's, yet after more than thirty exchanges, he had not even touched the corner of Zhou Qiubai's clothes. On the contrary, his offensive had been completely restrained by that strange swordsmanship, and he could not even use seven-tenths of his full strength.

This can't go on.

Wang Meng suddenly let out a roar and struck out with both claws, forcing Zhou Qiubai back half a step. Then the second Soul Ring beneath his feet lit up again.

But this time, it was not a charge.

He slammed both claws into the ground!

Boom!

The ground exploded, and shattered stones sprayed through the air like rain.

This was not a Soul Skill, but pure brute strength.

Countless fragments of stone blocked every route Zhou Qiubai could use to evade.

Wang Meng took the opportunity to pounce, both claws shooting straight for Zhou Qiubai's chest.

This was a killing move.

Cries of alarm rose from the stands, and the referee was already preparing to intervene.

Zhou Qiubai moved.

At the instant the stones reached him and the claws closed in on his chest, his entire body drifted through the gaps between the flying debris like a flowing cloud.

Then, a flash of sword light.

The White Clothes Sword spilled forth like moonlight across the earth, slipping through the gap between Wang Meng's claws. Its tip lightly touched a point three inches before his throat and stopped.

Wang Meng froze.

He could feel the chill emanating from the sword tip. If it advanced even one more inch, it could pierce his throat.

"I lost," he said bitterly.

The referee announced loudly, "White-Clothed Guest wins! Six consecutive victories!"

Thunderous applause erupted from the stands.

Zhou Qiubai sheathed his sword and clasped his fists toward Wang Meng. "You let me win."

Wang Meng gave a simple, foolish grin. "Your swordsmanship... I didn't lose unfairly. But brother, I need to remind you of something."

"Please do."

"You've won six in a row. The Soul Fighting Arena won't let you keep winning so easily." Wang Meng lowered his voice. "In the next match, they'll most likely arrange someone... ruthless for you."

Zhou Qiubai nodded. "I guessed as much."

"You guessed it, and you're still this calm?"

"What comes will come." Zhou Qiubai smiled. "Besides, if I can't win, I'll just admit defeat. It's only ten gold coins. I can afford to lose."

He had already won sixty gold coins from them. He ought to let them earn a little back.

Seeing his calm expression, Wang Meng's heart stirred. He felt that this young man might be even more extraordinary than he had imagined.

There was no name on the matchmaking list on the seventh day.

A message came through the window: Zhou Qiubai's match had failed.

The Soul Fighting Arena's explanation was that there were not enough opponents available to match against him recently. In other words, he would need to wait ten days or half a month before the next round of one-on-one matches could begin.

But everyone knew that was merely an excuse.

Word of Zhou Qiubai's six consecutive victories had already spread. Quite a few spectators watched his every move in the stands each day. His strange swordsmanship had also become a topic of conversation over meals and tea.

Business at the blacksmith shop had noticeably improved these past few days. Nearly a dozen groups of customers came every day to commission a weapon called a "flexible sword."

That thing was no toy.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, a blue-clad youth looked up at the three words "Suotuo City" above the gates and smiled faintly.

Beside him was a girl in pink with a scorpion braid, looking around excitedly.

"Xiao San, so this is Suotuo City! It's so lively!"

"Mm." The blue-clad youth nodded. "Let's find a place to stay first. Tomorrow, we'll go enroll at Shrek Academy."

The two walked side by side through the city gates.