Sun Mei’er ascended the staircase leading to the elders' platform at a leisurely pace, dragging the unconscious body of the sect's First Elder, Lu Cha, by the ankle behind her.

Lu Cha’s head bumped against each stone step with a dull thump, the sound echoing through the silent stadium with every excruciatingly slow footfall.

Her pale face twitched slightly with each impact—clearly, she had regained consciousness somewhere along the way. But with the entire sect watching, she was far too humiliated to rise. All she could do was endure, letting herself be unceremoniously dragged up the stairs.

Following behind, Biyu struggled to maintain a straight face.

When they reached the platform, Sun Mei’er cheerfully tossed Lu Cha at Chen Ai Yun’s feet.

She beamed. “Sect Master, I’ve followed your orders and helped Lu Cha crawl up the stairs.”

Chen Ai Yun raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking from the limp elder on the ground back to Sun Mei’er. “I believe I said both of you should crawl.”

“Oh? Was that it?” Sun Mei'er asked innocently. “Forgive me for failing to carry out your exact command, Sect Master!”

She bowed deeply, her voice dripping with mock contrition. “I accept full responsibility for my failure, and any punishment due for disrespecting the First Elder.”

Chen Ai Yun's tone turned grave. “You will be punished. After our trip south.”

She turned to address the rest of the platform, her gaze falling on Biyu next. “As for the First Elder’s disciple—attacking another after an official match is a violation of sect rules. Disqualification and punishment would be the usual response.”

She paused deliberately, her eyes narrowing at Sun Mei’er.

“But, since the Vice-Sect Master took it upon herself to seek justice on her disciple’s behalf…” Her voice softened as she glanced apologetically at Biyu. “The tournament will continue as scheduled. However, should anything similar occur again, the offender will enjoy a stay in the punishment hall’s dungeon.”

Her final words rippled across the arena, causing more than a few disciples to shudder.

“Now. Resume the tournament!” she commanded.

From the edge of the arena, Di Ti stepped forward once again—only now she wore a different outfit. A red and blue feitan-style hanfu clung to her frame, adorned with trailing silk ribbons that floated around her as if caught in an invisible breeze. The dancer-like ensemble, with its split top and flowing skirt, exposed her midsection and emphasized her graceful movement.

Jin Shu couldn’t help but stare, his eyes drawn to the way her supple waist twisted and flowed like water as she climbed the steps to the stage.

Until—

“Ow!” he yelped, as two sharp pinches clamped down on either side of his waist.

He whipped his head left and right to find Biyu and Tian Li both pinching him.

“Where are you looking?” they asked in unison—then blinked at each other in surprise.

Jin Shu cleared his throat. “Her wai—No, I mean… I was just wondering how Elder Di changed clothes so fast. I swear she had a different outfit before walking up.”

Tian Li stepped in smoothly. “That’s part of her seduction art. Di Ti’s cultivation technique specializes in illusion, and she uses clothing to enhance it. She calls it a woman’s true weapon—their body—and the outfit is just part of the performance.”

“Fascinating,” Jin Shu murmured. “There are so many techniques I’ve never even imagined.”

Then a thought struck him. He turned to Tian Li with a furrowed brow. “Didn’t you say your mother used to say something like that? Wait… she isn’t your—”

“No, no!” Tian Li cut in quickly, shaking her head. “She isn’t. But… yes. They said similar things. Just with… different values.”

Her voice faded into a sigh, her expression clouding briefly.

“Ah… sorry,” Jin Shu offered, his tone gentle.

Her face brightened almost instantly. “It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

She turned her attention back to the arena, eyes following Di Ti’s graceful steps toward the center stage.

Jin Shu studied her for a moment longer. There was something unspoken behind that smile. But he knew better than to pry. If she wanted him to know, she’d tell him in time.

With a small shake of his head, he turned his gaze back to the stage.

“That match was filled with unexpected twists and turns, ending in a battle between our First Elder and Vice-Sect Master! How exciting!” Di Ti announced with a bright smile, downplaying it just enough to stir intrigue while keeping the audience on edge.

She glanced down at someone in the crowd, then looked up at the elders' platform, her eyes shining with excitement.

“Next, we have a rematch! The Sect Master’s newest disciple—Jin Shu—versus one of the two winners of the elimination round—Zhu Ren! Their last match ended in a draw. Will we see a repeat, or will this match deliver an unexpected turn?!”

The crowd erupted into cheers.

“This time Jin Shu’s definitely going to win! That weird weapon she used was strong, plus Zhu Ren doesn’t stand a chance against someone with Wind element control!”

“I don’t know… I saw Zhu Ren during the last match. She was reading a scroll right before her aura flared up during the elders' fight, I think she may have a strong new technique.”

“Wait, is she breaking through now?!”

Gasps swept through the stadium as all eyes turned to Zhu Ren. Sure enough, waves of qi rippled around her in visible pulses.

“Oh? It seems in all the excitement, we nearly missed Zhu Ren’s breakthrough,” Di Ti noted, her tone shifting slightly more serious.

With a snap of her fingers, several elders appeared beside Zhu Ren in a protective formation, their attention turned outward.

A Spirit Realm breakthrough was a delicate, dangerous moment. Any interference could mean death—or worse, a crippled cultivation. Most wouldn’t dare attempt it in a crowd. Yet Zhu Ren was doing just that.

Whether she was fearless or had been forced into this moment, no one could say.

“It’s too dangerous to compete after a breakthrough,” Chen Ai Yun said firmly, her voice echoing across the arena. “Zhu Ren is officially withdrawn from the tournament ranking matches. Furthermore, if anyone interferes with her breakthrough, their cultivation will be crippled—and they will be locked in the deepest dungeon until death.”

A wave of tension fell across the stadium.

Two masked women froze where they stood, sweat soaking through their robes as they slowly sank back into their seats under the Sect Master’s gaze.

Chen Ai Yun turned her head slightly, eyes landing on Wu Ming seated beside Elder Han.

Wu Ming lifted her hands frantically. “I—I’m not doing anything! Even though I was embarrassed... and I still think hidden weapons are cheap… I’m really not going to touch her!”

Chen Ai Yun gave a slight nod, then turned her attention back to the stage. “Begin—”

She was about to call the next match when Zhu Ren’s qi surged again—this time cresting the line into the Spirit Realm. A powerful wave of energy expanded outward, drawing everyone's attention.

And then, it appeared.

A hazy image floated into the sky above Zhu Ren, slowly taking shape.

“““Dao Spirit Manifestation!!””” the crowd shouted in unison, stunned.

The image continued to sharpen—until it became clear: a woman clutching a dagger.

“It’s the Dao of the Dagger Goddess…” Chen Ai Yun whispered, disbelief coloring her voice.

Jin Shu blinked, looking around at the stunned faces, confused by the sudden tension. Before he could ask—

“Ah! What are you doing?!”

A scream cut through the quiet.

One of the masked women rushed toward Zhu Ren in a desperate charge.

“Hmph.” Chen Ai Yun’s snort was sharp as a blade. Her aura descended in an instant, pinning the attacker to the ground. The woman collapsed with a muffled groan, blood trickling from her mouth, though she still clung to life.

But the danger hadn’t passed.

“Oh no!”

Another cry drew attention to the second masked woman. Somehow, she’d slipped past the guards and was now mere steps from Zhu Ren.

She threw out a talisman, briefly locking the surrounding elders in a glowing qi barrier. It wouldn’t last long—but it didn’t need to. She launched a deadly burst of qi straight at Zhu Ren’s unprotected body.

“You dare!?” someone shouted from the crowd.

A sword shimmered into existence, piercing the attacker’s skull. Her body crumpled—but not before the qi attack left her hand.

The dark black burst of qi tore through the air.

Too fast.

Too close.

No one could stop it.

All eyes widened in horror as the qi neared Zhu Ren, everyone powerless to intervene. A genius, about to fall at the peak of her breakthrough.

Then—

The attack vanished.

It disappeared, like a stone swallowed by still water, leaving only a faint ripple in its wake.

Silence.

“What just happened?”

“Where did the attack go?”

“Did she have some kind of automatic defense artifact?”

“No way! That kind of thing is rarer than a dragon’s tear! Even the Sect Master doesn’t have something like that!”

Amidst the confusion, Jin Shu exhaled in relief. “Just made it in time…”

He had created the ripple at the last possible moment—barely a millionth of a second before the attack struck.

“Elders, protect Zhu Ren!” Chen Ai Yun ordered sharply.

The core elders surrounded her instantly, forming an airtight defensive formation.

“Inner elders, evacuate the stadium!” she followed up.

The massive team of inner elders moved at once, guiding the audience toward the far side of the stadium, as far from Zhu Ren as possible.

Then, unexpectedly, Chen Ai Yun turned to Jin Shu.

“Thank you.”

She bowed.

Jin Shu nearly had a heart attack.

She was his master now—his stepmother! He panicked, rushing forward and placing his hands on her shoulders to lift her upright.

“P-please don’t bow! You’ll kill me from the stress! And there’s no need to thank me! I just did what anyone would’ve done!”

Chen Ai Yun arched a brow. “I don’t think you understand what you did—or what’s happening here. I’ll explain later. For now, keep your technique ready around her. Can you do that?”

He nodded, still overwhelmed. “Sure…”

Though, with all the core elders already surrounding her, he wasn’t sure what else he could do.