[Sword-washing, dragon-wrestling]
For the first time, this violent sword intent broke through the old man's blockade, actually forcing him back three steps. But in the end, its edge too keen and its reserves insufficient, the old man knocked it lightly, and the sword fell with a clang.
Then irrepressible gasps and applause rang out across the Jade Sword Platform.
Su Xingke drew a deep breath. His fringe was disheveled, but his eyes shone, pride hidden beneath his expression. He raised his hands in a fist-and-palm salute and bowed formally.
Sui Zaihua smiled faintly and said softly, "Very good."
At that moment, everyone understood: all three of them had been holding something back.
Yes, even in what countless people already considered the decisive battle, even in their contest for standing, they had still kept their final trump cards hidden.
At the edge of the Sword Field, Xiang Zongyuan stood straight with his sword planted against the ground, his eyes closed as though in meditation; Cui Zijie wore little expression, his sword-sharp eyes lowered toward the ground as he lightly tapped his sword's pommel; Su Xingke still pressed his lips into a straight line-ever since two days ago, the fire within this young man had been this cold.
Silence fell over the field for a moment. Everyone had thought of the reason.
Pei Ye turned the last page. Beyond it, everything was blank.
"So many..." he sighed, his voice faintly hoarse.
"Doesn't that just show how impressive you are?" Black Cat said softly.
Pei Ye smiled soundlessly, then frowned and rubbed between his brows again. He closed the booklet and leaned back in his chair, as though falling asleep.
Precisely a quarter of an hour later, the young man opened his eyes. They were bright and quiet now.
He picked up his