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Bian Shishi had appeared out of nowhere and left just as abruptly.

Xu Zimo stood beneath the moonlight, lost in thought.

That she was an old acquaintance, he was certain of. But whether she was an ally or an enemy, that he did not know. And because of that, he could not fully trust her.

Glancing at the blue-eyed Water Beast beside him, he sat cross-legged once more and began meditating again. He had already made up his mind, the next time the Water Beasts attacked the city, he would go and see for himself.

The night passed in silence.

By morning, his maid Little Jade brought in breakfast.

As Xu Zimo ate, he asked casually, “Little Jade, have you ever seen the eldest young lady of the Black Crow Dao Court?”

“Why does Master ask?” Little Jade replied, puzzled. “The eldest lady rarely leaves her courtyard. I’ve only seen her two or three times myself.”

“What kind of person do you think she is?” Xu Zimo asked.

“I don’t know much,” Little Jade said. “The eldest lady is calm and quiet, not one to argue or fight. But whether it’s the elders or the Grand Emperor, they all hold her in high regard.”

“I see,” Xu Zimo said, nodding. “And where is her courtyard?”

“Even if I told you, Master, you wouldn’t be able to enter,” Little Jade said. “You should focus on today’s test. Don’t let the Second Miss down.”

Xu Zimo smiled faintly. To him, the so-called test was meaningless. He had no intention of staying in the Black Crow Dao Court anyway. When the army of Water Beasts came again, that would likely be the day he left.

After breakfast, he asked around about Bian Shishi’s residence and headed there openly.

Days of rest in the mansion had healed all the injuries he’d suffered crossing the Inferno Crucible Heaven.

Bian Shishi’s courtyard was secluded and peaceful, far from the bustle of the main estate. Few people ever went there.

As he approached, a faint sound of zither music drifted through the air.

Looking up, Xu Zimo could just make out a graceful silhouette seated in the attic pavilion. White mist coiled gently around her as she played, her posture serene and composed.

At the gate stood a maid with delicate features. She seemed unsurprised by his arrival and smiled politely.

“Young Master, our lady does not receive visitors,” she said.

“Tell her an old friend has come,” Xu Zimo replied.

“The lady said even if it were you, she still wouldn’t see you,” the maid said, shaking her head.

“Then tell her I’ll be staying in the Black Crow Dao Court for a while,” Xu Zimo said. “If she wishes to talk, she can come find me.”

With that, he turned and left.

The maid waited until his figure disappeared down the path before returning to the attic.

“The young master is gone,” she said softly.

There was a sharp twang as a string on the zither snapped.

“My heart wavered,” Bian Shishi murmured. She could no longer play.

Standing by the window, she gazed out over the entire Black Crow Dao Court from above.

“All of this,” she whispered, “is nothing but a cursed fate...”

“Little Xu, make sure you give it your all in today’s match,” Bian Yue said anxiously as they walked. “Your opponent is Zhang Qiuse, the strongest of our Dao Court’s younger generation.”

She kept feeding him details about Zhang Qiuse, worried that Xu Zimo might lose.

Xu Zimo, however, looked utterly bored.

They arrived at the Black Crow Dao Court’s martial arena, an enormous open field. At its center stood a massive statue of a black crow, wings spread as if ready to soar. One talon gripped the ground, the other lifted skyward. Its eyes, dark and brooding, seemed to gaze into the heavens.

More than half of the Dao Court’s disciples had gathered to watch.

“I heard Zhang Qiuse is dueling the Second Miss’s fiancé today,” someone whispered.

“Fiancé? Isn’t that a bit premature? The match hasn’t even started yet.”

“Exactly. Zhang Qiuse’s already reached the God Meridian Realm. Among the young generation, only Mu Qingyun surpasses him. The rest aren’t even close.”

The crowd murmured excitedly.

“There he is!” someone shouted when Xu Zimo and Bian Yue appeared.

Around the arena, Bian Wenzhou sat at the highest seat, flanked by the six elders of the mansion.

On the raised altar stood a young man who had been waiting for some time.

He sat cross-legged, his white robe fluttering in the breeze. In front of him was a long red spear, its tip driven into the stone floor. The weapon was over seven feet long, its shaft engraved with the image of a coiling fire dragon.

What drew the most attention, however, was the young man’s blazing red hair, and the crimson mark between his brows that gave him an almost demonic air.

Before Xu Zimo stepped onto the stage, Bian Yue hesitated. “If you can’t beat him, surrender early,” she warned. “Don’t throw your life away.”

Xu Zimo just smiled.

As he stepped onto the altar, the atmosphere instantly shifted. The air itself seemed to hum with tension, a faint wind brushing past like a current of energy.

Zhang Qiuse rose, his eyes locking on Xu Zimo’s, cold and filled with killing intent.

In truth, he bore no personal grudge against Xu Zimo. But he owed someone a favor, and that favor required him to “accidentally” kill Xu Zimo during the duel.

“I almost thought you’d hide like a coward and not show up,” Zhang Qiuse taunted.

“Talking to ants is a waste of breath,” Xu Zimo said, waving his hand dismissively.

He turned his gaze toward Bian Wenzhou and the elders. “Can we begin?”

“Since both sides are present, begin,” Bian Wenzhou said calmly. “But remember, this is a sparring match. No killing blows.”

“In a fight, accidents happen,” Zhang Qiuse said with a smirk. “If someone gets hurt, or worse, don’t blame me.”

He grabbed his spear, and flames immediately engulfed it.

With a single step forward, the weapon roared like a dragon of fire, surging toward Xu Zimo with explosive force.

Xu Zimo’s expression didn’t change. He simply raised his hand and flicked the spear’s tip.

Boom!

The entire weapon was blasted out of Zhang Qiuse’s hands, sent spinning through the air.

Zhang Qiuse staggered backward, his boots scraping deep marks into the floor.

“What terrifying strength,” he muttered, his face darkening. The arrogance in his eyes was gone, replaced by grim focus.

“You said not to blame you for accidents,” Xu Zimo said with a faint smile. “Remember that.”

Zhang Qiuse snorted coldly and gripped his spear again, his expression twisting with strain.

“Myriad Spears, Strike As One!” he shouted.

His fire spear blurred, multiplying into thousands of flaming copies that filled the air like a storm. The sky above the arena was packed with blazing spears, each one blazing with destructive heat.

The illusionary weapons shot toward Xu Zimo in a torrential wave, splitting the air and shattering the void around them.

Xu Zimo didn’t move. He merely stood there, bored, and even yawned.

The countless fire spears struck him all at once.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Explosions erupted across the stage, shaking the entire arena.

When the flames and smoke finally cleared, the crowd gasped.

Xu Zimo stood there, completely unscathed. Not even a wrinkle marked his robe.