The Golden Core elder immediately announced that she was the final victor of this Dharma Assembly.
Under the gazes of the crowd—some envious, some congratulatory—Gong Shangyu accepted the precious Duankong Stone.
She didn’t say much, but the faint look of satisfaction between her brows, along with the cheers of the surrounding Huan Yin Valley disciples, said it all.
The crowd began to disperse, but the excited chatter did not cease. Many were still enthusiastically discussing the “strange incident” of Jian Mingzi mistakenly summoning the Xuling Sect disciple’s magic weapon.
Gu Qingying stood alone at the edge of the Doufa Stage, clutching her regained Love Thread Sword tightly to her chest.
Her head was bowed low, her purple eyes filled with loss, resentment, and frustration.
The sunlight stretched her slender figure long, adding to her air of desolation.
She bit her lower lip, her heart feeling like a toppled spice rack—an indescribable mess.
In her view, this should have been her moment to shine. She could have been the first to summon a magic weapon by her own strength, stunning the entire arena, bringing glory to Duanqing Peak, and winning her master’s approving gaze.
And she could have presented that precious Duankong Stone as a gift to her master.
But all of it was ruined by that inexplicable “Jian Mingzi.”
What mistaken summoning?
What a coincidence.
That guy must have done something to the Love Thread Sword when he borrowed it the other day under the pretense of admiring it.
Yes.
That must be it.
What a despicable guy.
And to think she had previously thought he seemed decent and had an uncommon bearing.
Just as Gu Qingying was immersed in her own little world, indignantly cursing “Jian Mingzi,” a clear, cold, yet gentle voice sounded beside her.
Gu Qingying’s head snapped up.
What met her eyes was that spotless white robe and the veiled hat obscuring the face.
It was the “prime culprit,” Jian Mingzi.
Gu Qingying was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, instantly bristling.
Her purple eyes went wide as she glared furiously at Feng Lingshuang.
Her voice carried a hint of a tearful tremble, and her eyes seemed on the verge of reddening again.
She had completely forgotten how she had “argued her case” on stage earlier, trying to get the referee to declare her the winner.
Feng Lingshuang listened quietly to her little junior sister’s childish grumbling and accusations.
Beneath the veiled hat, the corner of her mouth lifted in an almost imperceptible, tiny arc.
In her former life, her little junior sister was always like this too.
When she felt wronged or things didn’t go her way, she would run to her or their master, puffing out her little cheeks, and complain about the culprit in this same mix of aggrieved and indignant tone—even though she herself was often largely responsible.
This familiar, slightly petulant tone of complaint made Feng Lingshuang feel as if she had instantly been transported back to those noisy yet warm times on Duanqing Peak in her past life.
The sense of alienation and melancholy born from her rebirth and identity dislocation seemed to fade somewhat, replaced by a long-lost, heart-warming feeling that made her want to smile.
Feng Lingshuang gave a light cough, suppressing the ripples in her heart, and spoke in an even more sincere tone.
Gu Qingying snorted coldly, turning her little face away, putting on an “you’re right but I’m still not forgiving you” tsundere act.
Seeing this little action, the amusement in Feng Lingshuang’s eyes deepened.
Gu Qingying’s ears twitched, but she still didn’t turn her head.
Her tone was stiff.
Feng Lingshuang said frankly.
Gu Qingying’s eyes instantly lit up.
She had heard of the famous Qingfeng Lou in Yangzhou in her past life.
It was said the spirit meals there were not only incredibly delicious but also greatly beneficial to cultivation.
The only problem was the exorbitant price, far beyond the means of ordinary cultivators.
She had always wanted to try it, but in her past life, she either never had the chance or was too poor while cultivating diligently with her master and senior sisters.
In this life, it seemed there was an opportunity.
Her first reaction was delight.
But immediately, caution took over.
She turned her head, her purple eyes filled with suspicion.
Feng Lingshuang was almost choked by her vivid imagination; the veiled hat seemed to wobble.
She said helplessly.
Gu Qingying thought about it and found it reasonable.
With her master there, this “white tofu” probably wouldn’t dare try anything.
And besides, the temptation of Qingfeng Lou was too great.
She patted her somewhat flat stomach, then remembered the sting of her defeat.
Using a feast to mend her wounded heart seemed very reasonable.
She nodded with feigned reluctance, though the slight upward curve of her lips betrayed her improved mood.
Feng Lingshuang agreed with a smile.
Just then, Lu Li walked over, bringing along a disdainful-looking Gong Shangyu.
They had obviously seen Gu Qingying talking to Jian Mingzi.
Seeing Lu Li, Gu Qingying immediately flew over like a happy little bird, the earlier dejection and tsundere act instantly tossed beyond the clouds.
She grabbed Lu Li’s sleeve and pointed excitedly at Feng Lingshuang.
Lu Li couldn’t help but be taken aback.
Gu Qingying explained righteously.
She nodded emphatically, feeling her analogy was very apt.
Feng Lingshuang fell silent.
Despite her steady temperament, the expression beneath Feng Lingshuang’s veiled hat was inevitably a bit stiff, torn between laughter and tears.
Lu Li coughed lightly twice and cupped his hands towards Feng Lingshuang.
Feng Lingshuang quickly adjusted her mindset and returned the gesture, her voice still calm and even.
Lu Li originally intended to decline, but looking at his disciple’s pleading eyes and Feng Lingshuang’s sincerity, he couldn’t outright reject.
After a moment of thought, he nodded with a smile.
Gu Qingying immediately cheered, pulling Lu Li’s sleeve.
Gong Shangyu, standing to the side, finally couldn’t hold back anymore.
She closed her fan and let out a displeased hum, her tone drawn out and dripping with undisguised sarcasm.
Gong Shangyu’s words were like rapid-fire, each one hitting a sore spot, specifically targeting Gu Qingying’s pain points.
Gu Qingying’s face flushed bright red in an instant.
The excitement from getting a feast was half extinguished.
She whirled around, her purple eyes shooting flames at Gong Shangyu.
Gu Qingying was hopping mad, looking like she was about to pounce on Gong Shangyu and start a fight.
Watching this familiar scene unfold before her, Feng Lingshuang’s eyes were filled with nostalgia.
She vaguely remembered that in her past life, Gu Qingying and Gong Shangyu were like this too.
One always puffed up in anger, the other calmly fanning herself while provoking her.
The noisy Doufa Stage seemed to fade.
The scene before her overlapped with countless afternoons from deep within her memories.
Noisy, lively, vivid, and full of human vitality. It was one of the few warm memories she had.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile crept onto Feng Lingshuang’s lips.
Seeing the situation escalating, Feng Lingshuang gave a light cough.
Her clear, cold voice, carrying just the right amount of gentleness and mediation, sounded between the two.
Gu Qingying and Gong Shangyu both paused.
Feng Lingshuang turned slightly towards Gong Shangyu.
The veil of her hat swayed gently.
Feng Lingshuang paused, her tone carrying subtle guidance.
Her words skillfully took responsibility, gave Gu Qingying a way out, and gently reminded Gong Shangyu of boundaries, while elevating the situation into something more meaningful.
Hearing this, Gong Shangyu raised an eyebrow, the fan in her hand slowing.
She looked between Gu Qingying and Feng Lingshuang thoughtfully.
A sudden realization flickered in her eyes.
She began to scrutinize Feng Lingshuang carefully.
This person… could she be Big Senior Sister?
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