Chapter Sixty-One: I Advise You to Keep Your Guard Up
Chapter Sixty-One: Advice to Keep Something in Reserve
The battles began with the Dust Group. This group had one hundred and sixty cultivators participating in the tournament, including nearly forty inner disciples and the remaining hundred and twenty outer disciples, all pillars of the Peach Blossom Sword Sect.
Do not mistake these outer disciples for mere filler, here to accompany the young masters and play their part. Because they were outer disciples and did not receive focused cultivation from the sect, many among them had wandered the world for years, gaining their own opportunities and making progress only they truly understood. In temperament, some outer disciples even surpassed the self-proclaimed prodigies among the inner disciples.
These one hundred and sixty were divided into sixteen groups of ten, each group battling in turn, with the best two performers advancing to the thirty-two strong elimination round.
The forty inner disciples were mostly assigned to different groups. Linghu Jinjiu was in the second group, Yang Xiaoman in the sixth, Fang Junmei in the ninth; for now, there was no worry of them encountering each other.
…
“The first match, first group disciples: Li Wannian versus Liu Baihe.”
A steward disciple announced, and two figures leapt to the center of the vast plaza in the valley. A transparent blue-white shield quietly formed around them, its source unknown—perhaps the work of a sword immortal.
Both were outer disciples at early Dust stage. Upon ascending the platform, they greeted the audience and commenced their duel. Though their cultivation was low, their bout was lively, sword gleams flashing back and forth, clashing with energetic vigor.
They knew their own limits and did not expect to achieve much, but hoped to display their talent and skill before the crowd—perhaps catching the eye of a senior and being accepted as a disciple out of rank.
Boom! Boom!
Explosions echoed occasionally, waves of air rippling and the ground trembling, but the blue-white shield showed not the slightest crack.
“Brother Wannian, go for it!”
“Senior Baihe, don’t lose!”
Their friends cheered them on, adding to the lively atmosphere. Yet, from the looks of many cultivators, it was clear the level displayed was far from captivating.
After a quarter hour, the opening match ended, with Liu Baihe taking the lead.
“The second match, first group disciples: Du Zhong versus Qi Yan.”
“The third match…”
“The fourth match…”
“The fifth match…”
Within an hour, all ten disciples of the first group had fought, with the best performances from two inner disciples of Embroidered Smoke Peak and Absolute String Peak, and one outer disciple at late Dust stage. This third’s sword technique was fierce and ruthless—clearly a hardened individual. Should the inner disciples face him, victory was not guaranteed.
…
After the first group’s ten took the stage, it was time for the second group, with Linghu Jinjiu among them. Naturally, his entrance drew many eyes.
“The eighth match, second group disciples: Linghu Jinjiu versus Wu Yu.”
The announcement rang out. All eyes turned to Linghu Jinjiu.
In the last two tournaments, the duty of defending Immovable Peak had fallen solely on Long Jinyi, who lived up to expectations. Fan Lanzhou and his companions trusted him deeply, not even registering to participate themselves. Thus, the true abilities of Fan Lanzhou’s trio remained a mystery.
Of these three, Linghu Jinjiu was the most often outside the sect, frequently teaming up with other disciples for missions. Yet no one could truly gauge his depth—for, at every crucial moment, Linghu Jinjiu would unveil new tactics, always keeping something in reserve. Thus, he earned the nickname “Keep Something in Reserve.”
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Today, how much will “Keep Something in Reserve” reveal?
Bang!
Under the gaze of the crowd, Linghu Jinjiu set down his wine flask, hiccupped, and laughed, then soared to the center of the plaza, his movements bold and graceful.
“Senior Linghu, please guide me!” Wu Yu was already waiting.
His cultivation matched Linghu Jinjiu’s, both at late Dust stage, but he was an outer disciple—a handsome, heroic young man, standing straight as a spear, gripping a mid-grade magical sword, his eyes bright and fighting spirit palpable.
“Junior Wu, it’s been a while.” Linghu Jinjiu seemed to know him, and with a nod, spoke amiably.
Wu Yu was clearly not here for pleasantries. After a brief nod, he said coldly, “Senior Linghu, please draw your sword.”
He was forthright indeed.
Linghu Jinjiu smiled slightly, “I don’t plan to use a sword today. Junior, you may make your move.”
Wu Yu’s eyes flashed. Perhaps feeling underestimated, he stared at Linghu Jinjiu for several breaths. Seeing his casual demeanor and apparent lack of intent to draw his sword, Wu Yu at last attacked.
Shhh—
Sword drawn, it shot forth, transforming into a hundred sword gleams, striking at Linghu Jinjiu. The gleams resembled red petals, like falling blossoms swept by the wind. If a woman had used this technique, it would have been beautiful indeed.
The sound of wind whistled.
This move caught the attention of many cultivators—it was “Blossoms Scattered,” an advanced Peach Blossom sword technique. To manifest so many blossoms at once showed Wu Yu’s diligent practice.
All eyes turned to Linghu Jinjiu.
He looked relaxed, a smile on his lips, both palms raised as if gathering energy.
Rumble—
The earth before him surged upward, as if pulled from the ground, forming a wall of soil radiating a faint yellow glow.
Bang, bang, bang, bang—
The blossom-like sword gleams struck the earthen wall, sounding like rain on plantain leaves.
Before the sound faded, Linghu Jinjiu darted to the side, snapping his fingers in a spell. Dark clouds gathered overhead, and silver lightning cascaded down toward Wu Yu.
The valley suddenly dimmed, flickering with lightning. Linghu Jinjiu’s two spells startled many disciples.
Wu Yu, accustomed to battle from years wandering as an outer disciple, showed no panic. Sensing danger, he dodged swiftly.
Boom! Boom!
Lightning struck only the ground, shaking the earth and raising dust.
Sword gleams reappeared, weaving through the lightning, targeting Linghu Jinjiu. The two engaged in fierce combat.
One wielded the sword, the other spells.
Wu Yu’s fighting style was brutal and aggressive, his killing intent fierce. Linghu Jinjiu’s spells were ever-changing, dazzling in their variety. Though most were merely third-tier techniques from the Scripture Pavilion, his flexibility, skill, and seamless transitions earned silent nods from some elders.
Time passed, but the stalemate persisted. It was clear to all that Linghu Jinjiu still held back; his signature Drunken Dragon Sword technique remained unused.
Wu Yu’s gaze grew intense.
In that gaze was not defeat, but hesitation, as if wrestling with a difficult decision.
“Junior Wu, surely you have more up your sleeve. Rather than use it so soon against me, you’d be wiser to keep it for others. As long as you take second place, you’ll advance to the thirty-two strong.”
Just then, Linghu Jinjiu’s voice suddenly sounded in Wu Yu’s mind.
Spiritual transmission!
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Wu Yu’s heart stirred. He looked at Linghu Jinjiu, who was grinning mischievously at him.
“Will you fight me for first in this group, or vie for second against that Fei Chong under Old Ning’s tutelage? Junior, think carefully. Do you really believe I’ll lose to Fei Chong?”
Linghu Jinjiu continued his silent transmission, hands busy as he switched to a spell resembling an icy storm—his repertoire was vast.
Cold winds howled through the valley!
Wu Yu heard him, his eyes flashing.
“No matter what cards you hold, as soon as you use them against me, Old Ning will surely instruct Fei Chong on how to counter them. If it’s a magical treasure, he might even quietly give Fei Chong something to neutralize it. Junior, you must think carefully!”
His words were full of persuasion.
Linghu Jinjiu, known for keeping something in reserve, was now advising others to do the same against his rivals. If other cultivators knew, they’d surely be both amused and exasperated.
Besides Linghu Jinjiu, Fei Chong under Ning Jiuyi was also considered a favorite for the top two in this group. Linghu Jinjiu’s chances were even higher, and he was cunning—already scheming against Ning Jiuyi’s disciple.
Using spiritual transmission, he left Wu Yu a way out, so he would not have to act too obviously and attract Fei Chong’s attention.
“Senior Linghu, I concede!” After several moments, Wu Yu made up his mind, deliberately exposing a flaw, taking a hit from a flying gleam, then sheathing his sword and admitting defeat.
“Forgive me, junior!” Linghu Jinjiu smiled and cupped his hands, collecting his first victory.
“Excellent skills, senior.” Wu Yu commented coldly as he returned to his place; it was unclear whether he referred to Linghu Jinjiu’s spells or his cunning.
Linghu Jinjiu laughed heartily, took a swig from his wine gourd, and rejoined Fan Lanzhou and Yang Xiaoman.
Fan Lanzhou said nothing, but Yang Xiaoman joked with Linghu Jinjiu, the three enjoying themselves.
…
No disciple was surprised by Linghu Jinjiu’s victory, but many cultivators noticed Wu Yu had held back; otherwise, he would not have conceded so swiftly.
Regardless, the tournament continued.
On the first day, four groups appeared, twenty battles in total.
The outcomes of others need not be detailed, but surprisingly, two inner disciples were defeated by outer disciples, proving that talent alone does not determine a cultivator’s true fighting strength.
…
On the second day, the battles resumed—groups four through eight took the stage.
Yang Xiaoman of the sixth group faced an outer disciple at mid Dust stage and won easily.
“Xiaoman, your skill at keeping something in reserve is almost catching up to mine,” Linghu Jinjiu teased upon her return.
“Third Senior Brother, I have plenty more tricks saved. Be careful you don’t lose if we meet,” Yang Xiaoman replied slyly, her crescent-moon eyes shining with confidence.
…
On the third day, groups nine through twelve!
“The second match, ninth group disciples: Fang Junmei versus Zhang Qiuchi!”
Finally, it was Fang Junmei’s turn.