As Lu Cheng's figure disappeared beyond the edge of the ruined arena, silence held for just a moment longer—then the crowd erupted once more, the air filled with shouts, chants, and the pounding of fists against wooden railings.

"Tian Lei! Tian Lei!"

The name rolled like thunder, shaking the sect grounds themselves.

Tian Lei stood in the middle of it all, his breathing ragged, his arms trembling. The jade dust settled around him, glittering faintly under the sun. He didn't raise his hands in victory, didn't boast, didn't smile. Instead, he bowed—just slightly—toward the path Lu Cheng had taken, honoring his opponent.

That single gesture quieted many voices. For a heartbeat, respect drowned out the frenzy of victory.

The elders exchanged glances. Mu Jian's expression was heavy, but his silence spoke louder than words. Haiyun, however, leaned forward with the same calm grin. "The boy's foundation isn't just strong… it's unshakable. He's not walking a path of talent alone, but of heart. That makes him great."

The disciples whispered among themselves. Some were in awe, others unsettled. A few looked at Tian Lei with envy, but none could deny what they had witnessed.

At last, the Mirror Jade Arena's overseer descended onto the fractured stage, robes fluttering. He raised his hand, his voice clear and formal. "The victor of this duel—Tian Lei!"

The roar that followed nearly split the skies.

But Tian Lei only exhaled, shoulders lowering slightly as the tension bled from his body. His palms were torn and bleeding, his bones aching with every movement. Still, his eyes burned bright.

He had won.

Not just the battle—but acknowledgment, respect, and the first step toward carving his name into the sect's future.

The disciples surged toward the edge of the arena, their voices clashing in excitement. Some shouted Tian Lei's name, others argued fiercely about the techniques they had seen, and a few simply stood in stunned silence, unable to believe what had just unfolded before their eyes.

On the stage, attendants hurried forward to steady him, but Tian Lei shook his head and straightened his back. He refused to leave the arena leaning on another's arm. Each step he took across the broken jade floor echoed with quiet strength, a declaration louder than any words.

By the time he reached the stairs, several outer disciples had already fallen into hushed silence, their eyes following him with a mixture of fear, awe, and reverence. Even those who once mocked him now found their throats dry, their insults turned into unspoken respect.

From a distance, Li Jinling stood among her fellow disciples, her gaze sharp and unreadable. She clasped her hands behind her back, but her lips curved ever so slightly. So this is the true weight of Tian Lei… I was right to keep an eye on him.

Mu Jian remained silent, though his furrowed brow betrayed the thoughts churning behind his calm demeanor.

Tian Lei stepped off the stage at last. The roar of the crowd followed him, but he paid it no mind. His mind was already elsewhere, replaying Lu Cheng's strikes, the pressure of the Rainfall Sword, the feeling of his own soul sense straining at its very limits.

He had won—but he had also seen how far he still had to go.

And that thought, more than the cheers, set his blood alight.

By the time Tian Lei reached the pavilion, the noise of the arena had dimmed into a distant rumble. His steps were heavy, but steady, and every breath reminded him of the price he had paid in blood and pain.

Waiting there, as though she had anticipated his path, was Li Jinling. She stood at the side of the walkway, her hands clasped together, her usual sharp gaze softened in a way that caught him off guard.

When their eyes met, she hesitated—then spoke, her voice quieter than the roar he'd left behind. "You could have been overwhelmed out there… anyone else would have been. Yet you stood as if it were nothing."

Tian Lei stopped before her, shaking his head. "It wasn't nothing. If I pretended it was, I'd dishonor the battle itself."

Her lips curved faintly, almost a smile, almost a sigh. "Always so serious." She lowered her gaze, her next words slipping out like a confession she hadn't meant to voice aloud. "Still… watching you fight, it felt like something inside me shifted. As if I couldn't look away."

Tian Lei blinked, momentarily at a loss. "Li Jinling—"

She cut him off, her cheeks touched with faint color. "Don't mistake me. I'm not saying it to flatter you. I only… I only know that I don't want today to be the last time I stand at your side."

Her voice dropped, almost a murmur, as though the words weren't meant for the sect or the world, but only for him. "Somewhere along the way, Tian Lei… I think I've already fallen for you."

The pavilion was silent except for the soft rustle of the wind. Tian Lei stood there, his heart pounding in a way no battle ever could.

Damn… the women of this world are so straightforward, Tian Lei thought as he felt Li Jingling's gaze hit him like a cut he couldn't deny.

"I… I'm sorry," Tian Lei said at last, bowing his head slightly. "I have no such feelings for you."

Without another word, he walked past her and left the pavilion, closing the door behind him.

"First Yuxin, and now her… my handsome face is already a chick magnet," he muttered under his breath, heading toward the washroom. He shook his head, deciding he needed to focus on training rather than these sudden turns in fate.

Outside the pavilion, Li Jingling stood frozen like a statue, her face pale, her teeth clenched so hard it was almost audible.

Damn it! That bastard rejected me so easily, like it was nothing… Her fists trembled, and her eyes glinted dangerously. No man dares to turn me down. No one!

Her pride roared like a lioness as she stamped her foot on the wooden floor. "You will be mine, humph!" she hissed under her breath, before storming off, her steps sharp with fury.

Meanwhile, not far away, Haiyun and Mu Jian were on their way to find Tian Lei when they caught sight of the scene. The two exchanged glances, silently agreeing to pretend they hadn't witnessed anything.

Haiyun sighed, shaking his head with a wistful smile. "Ah, youth… in my heyday, I had a harem of a hundred girls."

Mu Jian nearly tripped at the words, but quickly straightened and added proudly, "Don't remind me. My thousand girls kept me from sleeping even a blink at night."

The two old men exchanged mocking glares, muttering under their breath as they walked.

Damn single dog… bragging about having a hundred women while still not even married, Mu Jian grumbled inwardly.

Hah. Says the man who was enslaved by his wife all his life, yet still dares act smug. If he tried to marry again, he'd be begging for mercy before he even got the words out, Haiyun scoffed silently.

The two stroked their beards with forced dignity, but their rivalry burned just as brightly.

As the two elders strutted side by side, their silent war of pride still raging, a group of junior disciples passed by.

One of them, a fresh-faced boy with stars in his eyes, whispered a little too loudly, "Did you hear that? Elder Haiyun had a hundred women in his youth! And Elder Mu Jian… a thousand!"

The disciples gasped in unison, staring at the two with awe.

"So that's the true path to power!" one murmured."No wonder their qi is so strong—each woman must've given them a blessing!" another added, dead serious.

Haiyun choked on his own breath, nearly stumbling. Mu Jian's face turned red—not from shame, but from trying not to burst out laughing at Haiyun's sputtering.

The boy who had spoken earlier clasped his fists in admiration. "Elders, please! Teach us the secret art of… managing a thousand women!"

Haiyun's face twitched violently. "Brat, shut your mouth before I make you clean latrines for a year!"

Mu Jian, however, stroked his beard, feigning sage-like wisdom. "Indeed, boy. It requires balance, discipline, and most of all… stamina."

The disciples' jaws dropped, their eyes practically glowing with reverence.

Haiyun gnashed his teeth, glaring daggers at his old rival. That bastard's enjoying this far too much…

Before he could retort, one of the brats from earlier muttered again, "But that's vital! Seniority in the sect depends on these things… just gotta master the, uh, art of balance!"

Then, realizing what he had said out loud, the disciple bolted like a rabbit chased by wolves.

Haiyun's beard twitched. "Are you youngsters making me out to be some kind of… perverted sage?" he barked.

Mu Jian only shrugged innocently, stroking his beard as if deep in thought.

Haiyun muttered under his breath, grumbling so low only he could hear: Hmph. Both father and daughter are the same—neither can be taken seriously. Honestly, if not for their powers, they'd have been kicked out of the sect master's seat ages ago.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.