The wind beneath the eaves of the palace was faintly cold.
An Yao’s figure was hidden at the edge where light and shadow met.
Her gaze pierced through the noisy crowd, locking precisely onto that young man.
On the plaza, voices surged, the auras of countless inner disciples weaving into a chaotic sea of spiritual power.
Yet in her perception, the whole world was abnormally silent.
All sound and color faded away, leaving only the outline of that person—and the bright smile of the girl beside him.
She saw the gentle smile on his face.
It was not the pure focus of a worthy opponent he had shown atop the Star Observing Platform, facing her sword.
This was a kind of… An Yao couldn’t define it precisely, but it was enough to make her uncomfortable—a “mundane” aura.
A rational thought quietly surfaced in her mind, clear as a mirror.
Wasteful.
This was an utter waste.
His time, his spirit, his sword—none of these should be spent in such meaningless situations, let alone on… someone so ordinary, an inner disciple who hadn’t even condensed her sword heart.
An Yao didn’t even need to probe to judge everything about the female disciple.
Her talent was average, her temperament ordinary.
Perhaps she could form a golden core in the future, but that would be her limit.
Like any speck of dust on this plaza—common and insignificant.
But he was different.
His sword carried an ancient Dao resonance, one even she had to face seriously.
Such a sword should shine above the nine heavens alongside the bright moon, not wallow with fireflies in the mire.
Even this so-called sect strength assessment, in An Yao’s eyes, was an unnecessary pastime.
With his strength, defeating these so-called inner “geniuses” should be as easy as reaching into a bag.
A contest with no challenge or improvement—aside from satisfying the vanity and excitement of onlookers—what benefit did it bring to his sword path?
His sword should only be drawn for true opponents.
His gaze should be fixed upon the supreme Dao ahead.
It should not… be distracted in the slightest by any irrelevant person or matter.
Once this thought took root, it grew wildly like a vine, with absolute obsession.
An Yao’s eyes grew colder.
She felt that perhaps she should do something to “correct” this unpleasant “deviation” that was occurring.
However, she did not know if this would make Ye Chen uncomfortable…
—
On the plaza, at the command of a high-ranking elder, the noisy square swiftly became orderly.
Disciples were sorted into different teams according to their cultivation paths.
Sweeping his gaze over them, he nodded inwardly.
Among the inner disciples, most were combat-type cultivators at the Foundation Establishment and Golden Core realms, but he also saw array cultivators specializing in formations, holding small 阵盘 between their fingers.
He spotted符修 embracing 符笔 and 符纸, focused.
There were even disciples accompanied by various spirit beasts, and robust figures carrying massive 炼器炉 or 药鼎 on their backs.
Pill refining, artifact forging, beast taming, talisman arts, formations… cultivators of all types were organized methodically.
As expected of a top sect in the Northern Continent—deep foundation and a complete system.
His combat cultivator group, led by a stern black-robed elder, moved toward a massive stone gate at the plaza’s edge.
Above the gate, space twisted like rippling water.
“This is the ‘小乾坤界’, a 须弥空间 created by the sect’s powerful elders, used specifically for disciples’ contests and trials. The interior is vast, with a hundred arenas protected by formations. You can display your full abilities without restraint.”
As his words fell, he formed a hand seal.
The spatial ripple ahead expanded, forming a huge portal.
The disciples entered in succession.
Ye Chen was swept along in the crowd.
A flash of light and shadow—
The next moment, he stood in a completely different world.
A vast white plain stretched out, beneath a pure blue sky without sun, moon, or stars.
Hundreds of huge circular stone arenas, like black chess pieces, were scattered throughout the space.
Each arena was inscribed with intricate, profound patterns, spiritual light flowing across them.
Then, all the disciples who entered felt their 身份玉牌 at their waists glow faintly, and a stream of information entered their minds.
“Arena Thirty-Six, Third Round.”
This was his assigned match.
“Senior Brother Ye, what about you?”
Su Ying’s voice came from beside him.
She shook her 玉牌, her face bright with excitement.
“I’m on Arena Seventy-Two, Second Round. Still a while to go.”
Ye Chen nodded and replied casually.
At this moment, the black-robed elder’s voice sounded again, his gaze landing on Ye Chen.
“Ye Chen, step forward.”
Under countless stares, Ye Chen walked out.
“Insert your array flag into the central 主控阵眼.”
The elder pointed to a high platform at the center of the plain.
Ye Chen complied, stepping forward to a groove in the platform.
He released his hand.
The Foundation Establishment 阵旗 in his hand was pulled by an invisible force, flying forward and inserting precisely into the 阵眼.
Buzz—
A deep humming echoed throughout the 小乾坤界.
Centered on the high platform, dazzling curtains of light shot into the sky, instantly activating the entire martial field.
Patterns on each arena lit up, forming transparent protective barriers.
The spiritual energy in the whole space became active and orderly.
The elder nodded in satisfaction and signaled for everyone to move to the surrounding 观众席 and sit as they wished, waiting for the matches to begin.
“Senior Brother Ye, over here!”
Su Ying waved enthusiastically, inviting Ye Chen to a spot with a good view.
Ye Chen had wanted to find a corner to sit alone, but seeing her enthusiasm, he did not refuse and followed.
Soon, several of Su Ying’s lively female friends gathered around, chattering noisily.
Ye Chen naturally sat at the far left edge, putting some distance between himself and them.
Su Ying and her friends had to sit to his right, forming a subtle boundary.
On the central light screen of the martial field, the roster for the first round began to scroll.
On the high platform, an elegantly dressed elder Ye Chen did not recognize began the opening speech.
They were the usual words of inspiration and encouragement.
Things like “sect glory,” “forge ahead,” and “struggle on the great Dao.”
However, at that moment, a wave of suppressed commotion suddenly swept through the arena.
It was like a massive stone thrown into a calm lake, stirring up a tidal wave.
Almost every disciple was drawn irresistibly, their gazes turning to the highest point of the 观众席.
There, on the only independent stand carved from white jade—the most prestigious place in the entire 小乾坤界—a figure had appeared unnoticed.
She wore a luxurious red-and-white gown, the embroidered clouds on her skirt drifting softly with the flow of spiritual energy.
Long, black hair was pinned into an elegant classical bun with a simple jade hairpin, a few strands framing her cheeks, adding softness.
Her skin was fair as snow, brows distant as mist, her eyes clear enough to reflect the starry sky, yet imbued with innate gentleness.
A faint, natural smile graced her lips, as if all things in the world deserved her tenderness.
Tall, beautiful beyond compare, and with an otherworldly aura as if she had stepped from myth—
“It’s… it’s the Holy Maiden!”
“Heavens! Did I see wrong? The Holy Maiden herself actually came to the inner sect assessment!”
“So this is the true face of the Holy Maiden… She’s a hundred times more beautiful than the rumors…”
“Why did the Holy Maiden come here? Is she personally selecting talents for the sect tournament?”
Exclamations and speculation rose like waves.
Almost all the male disciples stared in awe, while most of the female disciples looked on in admiration and envy.
Ye Chen followed the crowd’s gaze upward.
She was indeed beautiful.
Not a beauty built from worldly powder and rouge, but a nobility and purity emanating from the depths of soul and life.
Yet…
For some reason, though he had never seen such ornate attire or makeup, Ye Chen felt a faint sense of familiarity from the figure.
It was a subtle feeling, fleeting, yet real.
Like… the mysterious girl who practiced swordplay with him on the Star Observing Platform each month.
But the thought barely surfaced before he dismissed it with rationality.
He shook his head.
He was overthinking.
How could a sect’s Holy Maiden, of such high status and unfathomable cultivation, lower herself to spend precious cultivation time sparring with a mere Foundation Establishment disciple like him?
“Senior Brother Ye, you think the Holy Maiden is beautiful too, right?”
Su Ying’s eyes sparkled as she gazed upward.
“Strong, peerless in beauty, and with an unmatched background… Ah, if I were even a ten-thousandth as excellent as the Holy Maiden, I’d be satisfied.”
Ye Chen smiled at her words, replying calmly:
“There’s no need to envy others. For us cultivators, what we seek is our own path. To walk step by step, doing one’s best, is far more meaningful than chasing another’s light.”
His words carried a maturity and clarity beyond his years.
Su Ying’s friends secretly rolled their eyes, thinking Ye Chen was being pretentious.
But Su Ying herself responded thoughtfully with an “oh,” remembering his words.
At the same time, atop the highest stand—
The elders overseeing the assessment were already pale with shock, bowing deeply, not daring to breathe.
They could not comprehend why the Holy Maiden had suddenly appeared to watch a mere inner sect assessment.
But they dared not ask, nor disobey.
An Yao glanced at the grand scene below, then gave a soft command to the trembling elders:
“No need. Continue as you were. I’m just… here to watch.”
“Begin.”
“Yes!”
The elders, as if granted a reprieve, bowed and immediately began to announce the tournament rules.
The entire martial field’s atmosphere became more intense and solemn with the Holy Maiden’s arrival.
No one knew why she had come.
Only she herself knew she was not here “just to watch.”
She had come—especially for him.