Li Qingyue was not worried about Qin Ming's safety, because she had already severely wounded Wang Caiwei—her fellow disciple and former close friend, who was now her rival in this competition.
Wang Caiwei was gravely injured. Her black-gold armor was battered and broken, and her face was as pale as paper. Always fond of smiling on ordinary days, she was now in a wretched state, sorrow tinging her brow and eyes. The protective golden garment, provided by the outer realm specifically to safeguard its disciples, was worn beneath her armor; it had completely lost its luster, having been pierced right through and long since soaked in blood.
In the past, she had moved with graceful, supple poise. Today, draped in her battered black-gold armor, she hurried over in frantic haste. Though light glowed beneath her feet and her speed was swift, something was clearly wrong—especially as she drew near, stumbling slightly.
Qin Ming remained exceedingly calm. In one hand, he held the Eight Trigrams Furnace, steaming with immortal mist, using it as a weapon, while his other hand was already densely covered in heavenly light force capable of scorching conscious spiritual light.
Though he was not particularly well acquainted with Wang Caiwei, he bore her no ill will. Thinking back carefully, when the two of them had traveled together, she had been perceptive and fond of smiling, and their time together had been pleasant enough. But that solitary private outing had taken place over two years ago; the past and its details had long since faded.
In his heart, Qin Ming hoped they could each mind their own business—that would be best. But if she came to snatch the near-immortal item, he would have no choice but to strike.
Her footing unsteady, Wang Caiwei came to an abrupt halt not far away. She did not attack. Having lost too much blood, her beautiful yet pale face lacked its customary smile, evoking a poignant beauty. She gazed intently at Qin Ming, then sent a secret voice transmission: "Is it you? Come from Chixia City?"
Qin Ming's expression remained placid, but inward shock rippled through him. She had investigated him, knew part of his present circumstances, and had actually recognized him now? How was that possible?! He was currently clad in armor, wore a golden mask, and his facial features had even been altered by Meng Xinghai using esoteric sect methods.
"What are you talking about?" Qin Ming raised his right hand slightly. Three rare arts and eighteen types of heavenly light force resonated together, terrifyingly formidable once merged into one; to many disciples of the outer realm, it was like a blazing sun burning.
"I know it's you who returned. Please help me just this once. As long as my strength increases quickly enough, the Wang clan won't be willing to marry me off. I need the near-immortal item; I don't want to become a sacrifice in a political marriage." Wang Caiwei's face was snow-white, tinged with sorrow and helplessness.
Looking at the tall, slender figure before her covered entirely in golden armor, she said, "I know it's you. I have an eidetic memory. Some of your habitual movements and little details—the Wang clan gave me your dossiers to review before I even met you, and I knew them by heart long ago."
Qin Ming shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about. The near-immortal item already has an owner."
He was already prepared for a fierce battle. His left hand gripped the Eight Trigrams Furnace, which flowed with auspicious glow, while the heavenly light force gathered in his right hand seemed to transform into a dazzling little sun.
"We're both old friends, yet you help Li Qingyue whole-heartedly while maintaining such heavy guard against me. But I truly harbor no malice toward you... And how much do you actually know about Li Qingyue?" Wang Caiwei sent another secret voice transmission with a sigh.
Frowning, Qin Ming said, "If you want the near-immortal item, trade the Sky-Upholding force, Tathagata force, or Yuqing force for it—or present three rare arts."
"Li Qingyue wants to approach immortality. Once she obtains the Eight Trigrams Furnace, she will never set foot in the mundane world again. After parting today, it will be hard for the two of you ever to meet. In the future, she will either lead the outer realm to utmost glory, elevating all the blessed lands into grotto-heavens to leap across the void, or she will lead the people beyond the mundane world to die in the depths of the night-mist world from the Era of Great Pioneering, their path blocked and severed. What she envisions is not like what we seek. You don't understand her. Once she acquires the near-immortal item, she will inevitably sever all worldly ties, destined to become an utterly pure practitioner upon the immortal road."
Qin Ming frowned, widening the distance between them, still keeping his guard up.
"You and I are actually more alike; we are both struggling to change our fates. Help me this once. If I make a truly stunning showing, I can make my clan change its mind, and afterward, I can give the near-immortal item to Li Qingyue. I am willing to swear an oath upon the forbidden arts of the outer realm!" Wang Caiwei's eyes were red, her demeanor thoroughly helpless and desolate.
Qin Ming had experienced his fair share of trials. To many such words, he merely listened and took them with a grain of salt; what mattered most was seeing a person's actual conduct. At times when he could not tell, he followed only one principle: judge by deeds, not intentions.
He did not approach her to initiate any spiritual resonance, maintaining his distance throughout. A core disciple's cultivation was higher than his own, so there was no need to take unnecessary risks.
"You've said so much, but I don't understand any of it." Qin Ming pondered rapidly: if she had recognized him, would it bring grave consequences and spark terrible peril once they left the Luofu Immortal Mountain ruins?
Wang Caiwei sighed softly. "You think because I smile often, I must be hypocritical? Ah, most people who smile all the time are merely concealing feelings that aren't bright at all. In truth, I want to cry; I cannot be the master of my own destiny."
She took two steps forward, trying to draw closer.
The Eight Trigrams Furnace in Qin Ming's hand buzzed and hummed under the surge of his heavenly light force, primed to strike at any moment.
Wang Caiwei gave a soft sigh. With a whoosh, she unexpectedly sped away, choosing to depart the Luofu Immortal Mountain ruins without making a move against him.
Watching her retreating figure, Qin Ming murmured, "Whether you were putting on an act or truly felt some helplessness over your fate, I wish you well."
He was no longer Cui Chonghe. Those with whom he had shared little history in the past had gradually become mere symbols of bygone days.
Qin Ming noticed that the field-clearing battle in the distance was drawing to a close.
Jiang Shengyu, Su Jingshu, Hu Tingwen, and the others knew this was Li Qingyue's battle to establish her dominance. In front of so many elite disciples, she likely would not kill them, so they unleashed their most powerful techniques in a desperate bid.
Yet no matter how fiercely they struck with all their might, they could not harm Li Qingyue in the slightest. All of them were heavily wounded and sent flying, covered in blood, collapsing to the ground unable to rise. Without question, this field-clearing battle left every watching outer realm disciple deeply shaken; the gap between them and the core disciples was immense.
The golden armor upon Li Qingyue clanged and chimed as piece after piece flew off. She was stripping off her armor, removing her helmet, and fully revealing her true countenance.
Beneath it, she wore the damaged battle-garment from earlier, stained with her own blood—proof that she had endured an extraordinarily brutal and perilous battle beforehand, besieged by many yet surviving. Li Qingyue's black hair fluttered in the breeze. Tall and lithe, with skin like congealed lard and an exquisite, flawless face, her entire person was shrouded in hazy radiance and curled about by faint white mist.
The battered, blood-stained armor added a touch of heroic valor to her ethereal, transcendent grace. She advanced toward Tang Xumi and Li Qingxu, the only two who still possessed the strength to fight.
"I yield! I concede!" Tang Xumi shouted readily, having no desire to test his strongest strike again.
With a thump, he flopped onto his back upon the ground, panting heavily. Soaked in blood, he laughed several times, sounding both bitter and relieved.
Li Qingxu hesitated. Should he concede right here, or pay a heavy price to fight one more round?
Li Qingyue had already closed in. Granting him neither the chance to choose nor room to say another word, she struck him directly.
In an instant, the ground fractured with tremendous commotion. Sacred rains of light shimmered gloriously, and massive boulders snapped off and tumbled down continuously from the edge of the deep pit.
Li Qingxu unleashed everything regardless of the cost, but was still defeated. Covered in blood, he collapsed into the heap of rubble, drained of every ounce of strength.
Moreover, the treasure his master had refined for him—the purple bamboo staff that had borne heavenly light without breaking—had fallen into Li Qingyue's hands.
Holding the purple bamboo staff, Li Qingyue looked at Li Qingxu and said, "Before entering the immortal mountain ruins, I said that the person you struck against back then was an old friend of mine. Two years have passed, and I want to do something for him."
With a bang, Li Qingyue swung the purple bamboo staff down onto one of Li Qingxu's arms. A crisp crack sounded as bone fractured.
A tremor ran through everyone's heart. Li Qingyue was truly bold! Even after the duel had concluded, she did not stop, striking the last disciple of that senior master with such heavy hands!
A purple bamboo silhouette sliced through the air and struck again. Li Qingxu's left leg was shattered, the snap clearly audible to all.
At this point, even the other core disciples were alarmed. Then realization dawned on them: no matter how fierce the struggle among the younger generation, that senior master would be too embarrassed to intervene personally. Furthermore, in the pure lands of the outer realm, there were other prominent figures capable of checking that domineering, protective senior, and they would never allow him to act recklessly.
Today, Li Qingyue had swept all the core disciples, winning cleanly, decisively, and magnificently. She was bound to draw the attention of those great figures; whoever wielded the Eight Trigrams Furnace would receive prime cultivation and protection.
Besides, the grand figures of the various sects had long found Li Qingxu's master an eyesore. Li Qingyue daring to thrash his disciple was likely very much to their liking.
"Talk about establishing authority—there's no better choice than beating Li Qingxu. That's more than enough prestige established!" Tang Xumi sighed inwardly.
Immediately afterward, he scrambled backward, terrified that he might get beaten as well.
"Whether out of reason or personal feeling, this is what I wanted to do. I've wanted to hit you for a long time!" Li Qingyue said. In all, she struck Li Qingxu six times with the staff.
Three of the blows broke both of his arms and one leg. The other three strikes were not particularly heavy; Li Qingyue merely brought the staff down lightly, slightly fracturing his skull.
"My old friend once suffered amnesia for over two years. Your injuries now are far lighter than his." Li Qingyue stayed her hand and threw the bamboo staff forward. Like a spear, it pegged into the ground before Li Qingxu, shimmering with hazy purple radiance.
Li Qingxu seethed with bitter hatred, humiliated beyond measure. In full view of the crowd, he had actually been severely beaten with his own divine bamboo, losing every shred of face.
Earlier, he had intended to perform a mystical escape technique and flee the scene, but had failed when she forcibly interrupted him, subjecting him to this darkest hour!
"If no one else wishes to challenge me, let the contest for the near-immortal item draw to a close here," Li Qingyue spoke.
Her black hair cascaded like a waterfall, and her figure was lithe and graceful as an immortal willow. Amidst her cool elegance, she swept her gaze around the surroundings, offering a nod and a smile to her fellow disciples—like radiant clouds piercing the mist. Her entire being was ethereal and transcendent, as though she were about to ascend in broad daylight.
Qin Ming sighed. Perhaps after parting this time, it truly would be a very long while before he saw her again.
He was soon to return to the relatively remote Chixia City. Thousand-year clans, blessed lands, and the dazzling pure lands of the outer realm were all far removed from him; he needed to advance one steady step at a time.
Chapter 122