Ch147.1 - Wendao Festival Competition 5. Sheathing the Sword

Su Hansheng nodded proudly. “I yield to your skill.”

The crowd immediately reacted, letting out surprised “ohs” and gasps of amazement.

Who could have imagined the seemingly frail young lord could execute such clean and decisive sword techniques?

Winning without arrogance or pride—extraordinary bearing, courteous and refined.

Truly the Immortal Lord’s son.

But only those familiar with Su Hansheng knew he was bursting with pride—if not for all these people around, he’d have his phoenix tail raised to the sky, his eyes shining bright enough to blind everyone.

Wu Baili, nearly blinded, rolled his eyes, sheathed his sword with a cupped-fist salute, and directly left the stage.

Zhuang Lingxiu took the stage looking honored to announce Su Hansheng’s victory. The spectators, still immersed in that beautiful sword technique, unusually didn’t boo him.

Su Hansheng gracefully descended from the stage, leisurely heading to Su Xuanlin’s spiritual retreat.

As soon as he entered, he immediately became like an unbridled wild horse, his feigned composure vanishing without a trace as he bounced up and pounced on Su Xuanlin with cheerful excitement.

“Father, Father, I was amazing!”

Su Xuanlin: “…”

Just moments ago, he’d been gratified his son had finally matured with the steady bearing of a young sect leader—never imagining it was all an act.

Su Hansheng was extremely excited, hugging his spirit sword and lovingly stroking it. His eyes shone brighter and brighter as he rambled incoherently, all praise for himself.

“So I’m this amazing! No wonder Father wanted me to win the championship. Today I’m practically invincible—winning the championship will be a piece of cake! Hahaha!”

Su Xuanlin: “…”

Dream on.

The Ten Great Academies had hidden dragons and crouching tigers. With Golden Core cultivation, Su Hansheng making the top ten was already lucky—forget about champion.

Su Xuanlin didn’t dampen his spirits at this moment, patting his head and saying calmly, “Just treat it as having fun. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

Su Hansheng casually humored him with two “mm-hmms,” his joy undiminished, before scrambling up to run off and show off to others.

Chongjue had long figured out Su Hansheng’s temperament. Seeing him rushing over in high spirits, before he could speak, Chongjue smiled and said, “That sword technique earlier was excellent.”

Being praised by his beloved, Su Hansheng’s sense of achievement overflowed.

He worked hard to suppress his inner joy, pretending to be composed with a few dry coughs, saying casually, “Actually, it was just okay. I just casually executed a move.”

Chongjue smiled at him.

Though Su Hansheng’s mouth was humble, his amber eyes looked at Chongjue eagerly, practically screaming “praise me more, praise me more.”

Chongjue chuckled, going with the flow. “That move seemed casual but showed skill through difficulty. One can tell at a glance you’ve put in hard work. Yuanqiu, don’t underestimate yourself.”

Su Hansheng was so delighted his smile reached his ears.

He’d previously asked Chongjue not to use his childhood name, thinking “Yuanqiu” made their generational gap seem smaller. But with his childish appearance, calling him “Yuanqiu” eight hundred times wouldn’t help.

After receiving praise, Su Yuanqiu ran off with his sword again.

He sequentially ran to Xu Nanxian and Zhuang Lingxiu to receive compliments before leisurely returning to sit in his seat.

Wu Baili was wiping his sword.

Yuan Qian looked despondent—with Su Hansheng’s victory, he’d have to fight him next.

Su Hansheng hummed a tune as he squeezed between them, saying lazily, “Am I hard of hearing, or did I miss hearing something?”

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Su Hansheng: “…”

Yuan Qian: “…”

Su Hansheng was used to Wu Baili’s jabs. Hearing this praise, he analyzed it word by word in his mind for a long time, shocked to discover this seemed to be… a compliment?

He gasped, trembling. “Baili, you… don’t do this. I’m scared.”

Yuan Qian’s scales were about to explode. He and Su Hansheng huddled together, shivering. “You… you might as well just insult us.”

Wu Baili: “…”

You deserve to die.

Su Hansheng was full of hope for the future. After winning just one match, he started fantasizing about his heroic championship.

After noon, the second match began.

After the excitement faded, Su Hansheng started worrying again.

Yuan Qian appeared to joke around constantly and be flexible, getting his points docked to almost nothing when first enrolled. But in reality, he was one of Wendao Academy’s highest-scoring students, going to bed early and rising early, rarely skipping class, and scoring first in almost every subject.

This snake was unfathomable—one mustn’t be deceived by his smiling exterior.

Yuan Qian stood smiling in the wind while Su Hansheng’s eyes were sharp and cold, fully on guard.

Just when everyone thought they’d witness another exciting match, Yuan Qian suddenly nodded. “I concede.”

Su Hansheng: “?”

Everyone: “??”

Su Hansheng looked even more dumbfounded than when Wu Baili transformed his bow into a sword. “Huh?!”

“I’m not skilled with swords, and my talismanic marks are no match for yours,” Yuan Qian reasoned logically. “Even Baili couldn’t withstand your sword—what more me?”

Su Hansheng was stunned for a while before getting angry. “But you can’t just forfeit! At least exchange a few moves.”

Yuan Qian smiled. “I’m very practical. Why bother getting beaten in a fight I’ll definitely lose?”

Su Hansheng gasped—he was nearly convinced by his argument.

The spectating students, seeing there’d be no fight, all booed him.

Yuan Qian learned only bad habits from good examples. Seeing this, he smiled and nodded to the crowd. “You flatter me, you flatter me.”

Everyone: “…”

“Then let’s not compete in sword techniques or talismanic marks,” Su Hansheng said. “Let’s compete in something else.”

Yuan Qian’s eyes lit up. “Dice rolling?!”

Su Hansheng: “…”

Su Hansheng swung his sword, chasing after him.

Yuan Qian wasn’t one to show off, plus he didn’t need the mere ten points from championship. Even less did he want to stubbornly face sword techniques even Wu Baili couldn’t withstand, so he leisurely forfeited.

Su Hansheng came down with a sour expression.

Yuan Qian coaxed him. “I voluntarily forfeited. You didn’t have to fight—isn’t that great?”

Su Hansheng rolled his eyes at him, then rolled them again.

Wu Baili wasn’t surprised. Seeing Su Hansheng sullenly pulling at his sword tassel, he said, “If you want the championship, tomorrow you’ll have to fight three matches. Those people’s cultivation is close to Spirit Transformation stage—they’ll let you fight to your heart’s content.”

Su Hansheng tested the waters. “Cultivation similar to yours?”

Wu Baili smiled without warmth. “Could beat two of me.”

Su Hansheng: “…”

Su Hansheng contemplated for a long time before suddenly saying seriously, “Do you think if I dual cultivate with Chongjue tonight, I could break through to Nascent Soul and turn the tide tomorrow?”

Wu Baili and Yuan Qian: “…”

The two were almost used to Su Hansheng’s loose tongue, but each time they were still shocked by the Young Lord’s “love of sharing” and wanted to plug their ears.

However, with Su Xuanlin around, Su Hansheng was destined not to implement this “plan.”

The next morning’s first match included Su Hansheng.

After resting all night, Su Hansheng was in high spirits.

His opponent wore Hanshan Academy robes. He didn’t recognize him, but because of Qi Jianyi, he had no favorable impression of anyone from Hanshan Sect. He said solemnly, “Today I’ll definitely defeat him.”

Yuan Qian encouraged, praised, and cheered enthusiastically. “Looking forward to your triumphant return!”

But Wu Baili threw cold water: “His name is Qi Qianling. He’s mid-Nascent Soul stage and uses a spear. You’ll likely be at a disadvantage in close combat.”

Su Hansheng: “Surname Qi?”

“Yeah, but he’s not from the main Hanshan Sect family—couldn’t be more distantly related. If not for his decent talent, Hanshan Academy probably wouldn’t even acknowledge him.”

Su Hansheng looked thoughtful.

Zhuang Lingxiu gracefully took the stage amid boos to announce the first match.

Su Hansheng stepped forward, the phoenix pattern on his snow-white robes seemingly about to take flight. Holding his sword, he cupped his fists in salute. “Please.”

Qi Qianling’s face was expressionless, gripping a spear. His Nascent Soul cultivation’s momentum rose from flat ground. Without a word, he nodded back in salute, his eyes cold.

Though Su Hansheng narrowly defeated Wu Baili yesterday, to a Nascent Soul cultivator, he’d merely taken advantage of surprise. In a proper duel, Su Hansheng couldn’t have defeated Wu Baili in one move.

Just a pampered young master who’d practiced swordsmanship for a few days—nothing to fear.

Su Hansheng keenly sensed this person’s contempt. Gripping his sword, he casually swung it twice, the sword tassel dancing in the air. His brow twitched slightly as the scabbard and blade collided, sparking like scattered gold.

In an instant, the spirit sword flashed from its sheath, trailing orange-red afterimages with brilliant flames through the air, fiercely aimed at Qi Qianling.

Golden Core spiritual energy wasn’t frightening to mid-Nascent Soul stage. Qi Qianling’s expression remained impassive as he cleanly blocked with his long spear.

Clang—!

Qi Qianling’s pupils suddenly contracted.

Su Hansheng’s frame was slender, but with inexplicable strength, his spirit sword struck the spear with fierce force, sparking fire and forcing Qi Qianling back half a step.

After blocking the sword, before Qi Qianling could react, it suddenly flew from Su Hansheng’s palm.

Qi Qianling moved extremely fast, instantly steadying himself. With a dark expression, he gripped his spear and swept it toward Su Hansheng’s face with a whoosh.

Su Hansheng didn’t blink. His body turned, his slender waist grazing past the spear. Then with a hook of his hand, the sword miraculously returned to his palm.

His five fingers gently closed. Blade and spear rubbed together, creating firefly-like sparks.

Bang.

Su Hansheng suddenly withdrew his sword as talismanic marks around him exploded.

Qi Qianling pulled his spear back, his expression icy as he raised his hand to touch his neck. After seeing the blood on his fingers, he was completely stunned.

He hadn’t even seen when Su Hansheng’s sword approached him.

Yesterday’s strike against Wu Baili wasn’t a surprise attack as everyone imagined, nor was Wu Baili careless.

Qi Qianling realized this, his expression extremely ugly.

Competition wasn’t like actual combat—a touch was enough. Su Hansheng maintained his gentle, modest demeanor, saying with a smile, “Pardon my rudeness.”

Qi Qianling lowered his hand, nodding in salute. “Lesson learned.”

With that, he turned and left.

Su Hansheng smiled as he sheathed his sword but remained standing in place.

After Zhuang Lingxiu came up to announce his victory, cheers erupted even more enthusiastically than yesterday, all praising Su Hansheng as a young hero, truly the Immortal Lord’s son.

The Immortal Lord’s son stood there smiling, accepting everyone’s praise.

Seeing him still standing there showing off, Zhuang Lingxiu stepped forward with a smile and grabbed his collar, carrying him off the stage like picking up a cat.

Once in the spiritual retreat, Su Hansheng’s legs went weak and he nearly fell on Zhuang Lingxiu.

Zhuang Lingxiu had anticipated this and caught him. Su Hansheng’s face was pale, but his eyes sparkled. “As expected of Nascent Soul stage. If not for the Heavenly Dao’s blessing, I probably couldn’t have won.”

Zhuang Lingxiu said helplessly, “I thought you truly hadn’t been affected by the pressure.”

Differing by one realm, even the most powerful sword techniques couldn’t compensate. Fortunately, Su Hansheng moved quickly, winning within a few moves. If it had dragged on any longer, he’d have been flattened by the pressure.

Su Hansheng was extremely excited. “Who’s next? After I win, can I go compete for the championship?”

“Difficult,” Zhuang Lingxiu sighed. “The top sword cultivator from Jianliang Academy—his swordsmanship is superb, not comparable to Qi Qianling. Don’t push yourself. Making the top four is already good. Take your little sword tassel and leave.”

But Su Hansheng wasn’t discouraged, still enthusiastically looking forward to fighting a real sword cultivator.

An hour later, Su Hansheng bounced onto the stage for the second match.

Defeat this person, and he could compete for the championship.

His opponent was from Jianliang Academy, someone Su Hansheng didn’t recognize.

However, when the sword cultivator saw Su Hansheng, his eyes immediately lit up, his sword practically itching to move. He didn’t approach from the side but ran over to Su Hansheng, saying excitedly, “Young Lord, my name is Xu Cezhi. I’ve long admired your great name.”

Su Hansheng was confused.

Weren’t they supposed to fight? Why the sudden friendliness?

“Oh,” Su Hansheng nodded. “What’s the matter?”

Xu Cezhi glanced at Su Hansheng, quickly lowering his eyes, fidgeting with his sword tassel, looking like he wanted to say something but hesitated.

Su Hansheng was even more confused.

After hesitating for a while, Xu Cezhi finally mustered his courage, taking a deep breath and raising his head, his face flushed. “Young Lord, if I win this match, would you… consider me?!”