Highly unlikely.
This man was a sword fanatic. In the past, he loved dragging her into spars and sword Dao discussions day and night, the type who wouldn't stop even after clashing swords with her for three days and three nights.
Though his temper seemed to have worsened quite a bit now, it was still highly improbable that he had recognized her identity at a single glance.
However, Song Yao remembered that his judgment had always been incredibly sharp. He could tell with a single look whether a new disciple was suited for the sword or possessed any talent.
He must have noticed something extraordinary about her.
And yet—
Ming Ran cast a glance at her, her brows knitting tightly. She cupped her hands toward Ninth Elder. “If you look down on me, you can just say so directly. Why must you humiliate me like this?”
Song Yao: “?”
Just who was humiliating whom right now?
“This old man heard that you reached Foundation Establishment in the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.”
Ninth Elder ignored Ming Ran and stared straight at her. “Today, you arrived half an hour late for class. Since you possess such high spirits, you must surely learn the sword quickly as well.”
“...”
High spirits?
Her?
Where on earth did that misconception come from?
Without a second thought, Song Yao cupped her hands and backed down. “This disciple is merely an ordinary pill cultivator. I cannot wield a sword. I admit defeat.”
Finding herself ignored, Ming Ran widened her eyes, trembling with rage.
Ninth Elder had scolded everyone else to high heaven, yet he insisted that this latecomer, a frail and weak-looking young girl, was the talented one!
This was not just a provocation against her; it was a provocation against the entire Ming family.
She took a deep breath and drew her sword, pointing it at Song Yao. “If that is the case, then let us duel!”
Song Yao: “?”
Why did this girl suddenly lose her mind again?
Wasn't she unwilling just a moment ago?
She tried to reason with her. “I admit defeat. I don't know how to fight. I'm just a frail, powerless pill cultivator...”
Ninth Elder said casually, “Those who are late shall be fined one month's allowance. If you win, it can be waived.”
Song Yao: “...Isn't the punishment for being late copying books?”
She happened to be standing behind Mo Zifeng just now. The youth leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I heard from my master that everyone knows you want to leave. To prevent you from leaving, any mistakes you make from now on will result in spirit stones being docked.”
Song Yao: “?”
It felt like she had walked right into a scam operation. She wasn't sure. She would observe a bit more.
After a moment of hesitation, she looked at Ninth Elder. “So, do I get spirit stones if I win?”
Ninth Elder flipped his hand, and a pouch of spirit stones appeared in his palm.
Song Yao: “...”
Fine then. Money could make even the devil turn the millstone. And right now, she was that devil.
A row of training swords lay on the nearby empty ground. Song Yao walked over, hefted one to test its weight, put it down, and selected a wooden sword instead.
With her current lack of spiritual energy and her depleted body, using those real swords would only be a burden.
Ming Ran's brows furrowed even tighter. “What is the meaning of this?”
Song Yao looked quite innocent. “They're heavy. I can't lift those.”
Ming Ran stared at her for a brief moment.
The girl stood there, a tiny thing, clutching a pill manual in her arms. Her Daoist robe was so oversized it looked stolen, and the wooden sword in her hand was so thin it seemed like it would snap with a gust of wind.
Ninth Elder letting her duel such a person—if that wasn't humiliation, what was?
Ming Ran sheathed her precious sword, walked to the wooden rack, and also selected a wooden sword. “I won't bully you. Come.”
The disciples dispersed of their own accord, clearing a space in the center.
Ning Zhou stood beside Song Yao, his face full of worry. “Lin Mu, why don't we forget it? If worst comes to worst, just pay the fine. Just make sure you aren't late next time.”
These sword cultivators were all single-minded brutes who didn't know how to hold back in a fight.
With Song Yao's thin arms and legs, they might very well get broken.
It wouldn't be too late to get beaten up after she put on some weight.
Song Yao was also very sorrowful. A warrior could be killed or even humiliated, but spirit stones could not be lost. This was her guarantee of living a normal and happy life.
She patted Ning Zhou's shoulder. “I'm fine.”
Ning Zhou retreated, looking back at every step as he searched the ground for a wooden plank. He might need to find something to drag her back later...
“Please instruct me.”
In the end, Ming Ran did not excessively underestimate someone who had reached Foundation Establishment in the time it takes an incense stick to burn.
She sank her center of gravity, held her wooden sword across her chest, and softly chanted a sword formula.
The tip of the sword trembled as spiritual energy poured from her palm into the weapon. The thin wooden blade emitted a clear, crisp hum, and faint wind patterns began to ripple across its surface.
Then, pushing off the ground, she shot toward Song Yao like an arrow released from a bowstring.
The onlookers on the sidelines held their breath, feeling inexplicably tense.
But Song Yao did not move a single step.
Standing right where she was, she swept her wooden sword up from her side. Her movement was incredibly fast. The onlookers only saw a flash of white light, followed by a sharp clinking sound.
Ming Ran's sword flew from her hand.
The wooden sword spun through the air and landed with a thud on the sandy ground ten yards away.
Meanwhile, Song Yao's sword rested steadily against Ming Ran's throat.
No one expected the duel to end so quickly.
Even less did anyone expect that the winner would be Song Yao.
The youths huddled together had their mouths hanging open wide enough to swallow two eggs.
Wait. Was this real? What had just happened?
No one had clearly seen Song Yao's move, not even Ninth Elder.
In the dead silence, Song Yao let out a muffled groan and dropped her sword, crouching down as she clutched her wrist. “I sprained it! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”
Ming Ran: “...”
Her beautiful brows knitted tightly. Still unable to recover from the shock of being defeated in a single move, she looked at Song Yao in disbelief. “Are you trying to humiliate me right now?”
Cold sweat beaded on Song Yao's forehead, her lips pale. “I really sprained it. It hurts so much.”
This body had never been trained or nourished by spiritual energy. To avoid her sword moves being recognized, she had acted too quickly, instantly exceeding her physical limits.
Ninth Elder was the first to notice something was wrong. Snapping back to his senses, he said, “This old man will take her to see a medical cultivator. The rest of you, keep practicing! No slacking off!”
With that, he picked Song Yao up and flew off on his sword, leaving the remaining disciples staring at one another in bewilderment.
After an unknown amount of time, someone spoke up. “Did any of you see her move just now?”
“No. Was there even a duel just now?”
“Did she win or lose?”
“I don't know...”
If they said she won, Ming Ran was completely unharmed while she had run off to see a medical cultivator with an injury. If they said she lost... Ming Ran hadn't even had the chance to fight back.
Jiang Jin walked over to Ming Ran's side and comforted her in a gentle voice. “Junior Sister Ming, did you underestimate your opponent just now and not use your full strength? Just be more serious next time.”
“Underestimate what opponent?!” Ming Ran glared at him. “We sword cultivators never underestimate our opponents!”
Jiang Jin choked on his words. “If you didn't underestimate her, then with Junior Sister Ming's strength, how could...”
“How should I know?” Ming Ran was depressed to death.
Although she was the one in the fight, she had absolutely no idea what had happened.
A clever, subtle force had struck her—not heavy, yet not light either—leaving her entire arm so numb she couldn't even hold her sword.
She even felt like Lin Mu hadn't moved at all, yet she had somehow seized her critical point.
Just what kind of move was that?
Coming from a family of sword cultivators, she had heard of all kinds of sword techniques, yet she had absolutely no clue about the one Lin Mu had used.
Someone nearby sighed. “No wonder Ninth Elder said Lin Mu is talented. It's actually true.”
Ming Ran: “...”
Compared to her, why did they really seem like useless trash?
Something was wrong. Everything was wrong.
She murmured, “Could she also be from some sword cultivation family? Just who did she learn this sword technique from?”
Jiang Jin pursed his lips. “I know.”
Rate on N.U.
