Beiming Xuan's feelings were complicated. Yet compared with his disappointment over his younger sister's defeat, what lingered more strongly was a doubt he could not shake, and a desire to uncover the truth.
It should not have happened.
The Blood Lure technique was sinister and tricky, impossible to guard against. Once unleashed, it was almost certainly a killing blow. Using such a technique in a tournament was admittedly ruthless, but against a formidable opponent like Qu Lin, Beiming Xuan could understand his sister's decision.
Beiming Li's timing had been flawless—while the three were locked in fierce battle, their minds and attention wholly entangled, there was no way they could spare focus to defend against a fatal strike from the shadows. Its success rate should have been one hundred percent.
That plain-looking wooden sword Zhou Wan wielded had seemed low-grade to him. Yet now, it appeared capable of automatically protecting its master, even forming an area-wide purifying barrier that could effortlessly dissolve a secret technique like Blood Lure... It was at least a high-grade treasure artifact... no, perhaps even a top-grade one.
Though unexpected, it was still reasonable.
What truly struck Beiming Xuan as unreasonable was Ling Anxin.
He had seen it clearly. Blood Lure had unmistakably infiltrated Ling Anxin. Spiritual power had already burrowed through her wound and into her meridians; there was no faking that.
It had succeeded, yet it had also failed.
The imperial family's secret killing technique had inexplicably lost its effect and vanished without a sound against an opponent whose spiritual power was nearly depleted.
It was precisely the bizarre failure of that decisive strike that had thoroughly shaken Beiming Li's mind, throwing her into complete disarray and costing her the entire game.
Why?
Beiming Xuan could not see through it. But he knew he had