The Finals

On the day of the finals, Qingyun Terrace was a sea of people.

Disciples from all seven peaks were present, and the spectator stands were packed to capacity, with even the corridors and stone steps filled with people.

This was the final match of the New Disciple Grand Competition, and it was the most significant one.

Bai Qingxue from Xueji Peak against Shen Moyuan from Tianshu Peak. One was an Ice Heavenly Spiritual Root, a dark horse who had crushed her way through the ranks, while the other was a sword genius, a top contender at the sixth level of Qi Refining who had defeated a seventh-level opponent.

Bai Qingxue stood below the arena, eyes closed as she regulated her breathing.

Lu Xueqing, standing nearby, glanced at the sky and felt the time was right. “Junior Sister, don't force yourself,” she said.

Lu Xueqing was serious; after all, the opponent in the finals was not weak, and she didn't want Bai Qingxue to injure herself just to fight for the top spot.

Bai Qingxue glanced at Lu Xueqing and nodded in response before turning to walk toward the stage.

By now, Shen Moyuan was already on the arena.

Shen Moyuan had changed into ink-black martial attire, with his pitch-black long sword hanging at his waist. His hair was meticulously tied back, his features were handsome, and his posture was composed.

Seeing Bai Qingxue step onto the stage, he smiled slightly and cupped his hands.

“Junior Sister Bai, please.”

His tone was polite and his smile proper. But in Bai Qingxue's eyes, that smile was the same as before—though his face was smiling, there was nothing in the depths of his eyes.

Bai Qingxue said nothing, her hand resting on the hilt of the Frost Condensation Sword.

The deacon gave the command.

Shen Moyuan struck first. His sword was fast—so fast that Bai Qingxue could barely see the trajectory of the blade.

The pitch-black sword tip sliced through the air, carrying a sharp sword qi aimed straight for Bai Qingxue's left shoulder.

Bai Qingxue shifted her body to avoid it, drawing the Frost Condensation Sword as frost condensed at the tip. She countered with a strike toward his wrist.

Shen Moyuan withdrew his sword to parry, the blades clashing with a crisp metallic ring.

Both retreated half a step simultaneously. The first round of testing was over.

Shen Moyuan glanced at Bai Qingxue, his smile unchanged. “As expected of you, Bai Qingxue.”

Bai Qingxue didn't respond. Cold energy seeped from her palms, and frost mist exploded across the arena.

This time, she held nothing back. The thick white fog instantly enveloped the entire stage, cutting off Shen Moyuan's vision and spiritual sense completely.

She moved silently through the mist, ice needles condensing by her side. Three, five, seven... more and more ice needles shot out from different directions, sealing off all of Shen Moyuan's paths of retreat.

However, Shen Moyuan did not panic.

He closed his eyes and tapped the ground with his sword tip. Spiritual power radiated from the blade, followed by several slashes of sword wind.

The ice needles were shattered by the sword wind three feet away from him, scattering into fine ice crystals. But Bai Qingxue had already closed the distance.

The Frost Condensation Sword lunged from the mist, its tip aimed directly at Shen Moyuan's right shoulder.

Shen Moyuan shifted to avoid it and swung his sword back to slash at Bai Qingxue's wrist.

The two swords collided, producing a flash of sword light even stronger than before, which momentarily dispersed the frost mist on the stage.

In that instant, Bai Qingxue sensed something.

Shen Moyuan's spiritual power fluctuations changed. Within that originally clear and sharp sword qi, there was suddenly a trace of a faint, almost imperceptible dark aura, like a drop of ink falling into water, spreading a patch of murkiness through his spiritual power.

But it was only for a moment.

Shen Moyuan quickly suppressed it, and his spiritual power fluctuations returned to normal.

The smile on his face didn't even change; he remained just as composed and proper.

Bai Qingxue's brow furrowed slightly.

She didn't have time to overthink it, for Shen Moyuan's sword was already lunging toward her again.

This time, Shen Moyuan exerted his full strength. The sword qi whistled through the air, aimed straight for Bai Qingxue's chest.

However, Bai Qingxue did not retreat either. She poured all of her Ice Spirit power into the Frost Condensation Sword. The blade lit up with a piercing blue light, and the cold condensed into a sword qi that was almost tangible, meeting Shen Moyuan's blade head-on.

Shatter Ice.

The blue light exploded, and the entire arena was enveloped in cold.

Shen Moyuan's sword qi was frozen inch by inch. Starting from the tip, ice spread up the blade, quickly covering his entire right arm.

He dropped his sword.

Meanwhile, Bai Qingxue's sword tip stopped three inches from his throat.

The venue fell silent for a moment before erupting into thunderous cheers.

“Bai Qingxue! Bai Qingxue! Bai Qingxue!”

The deacon announced Bai Qingxue as the winner.

Bai Qingxue sheathed her sword and turned to walk off the stage. Her expression remained calm, as if this final was no different from any of the previous matches.

Because the result was the same: she had won.

As Bai Qingxue stepped down from the arena, Lu Xueqing had already walked over from the rest area.

Her pace was fast—so fast that her robes kicked up gusts of wind.

Lu Xueqing reached Bai Qingxue and, without saying a word, directly opened her arms and hugged her.

Bai Qingxue froze.

Last time, when she was hugged by Ye Qingyao in the Luoyun Mountain Range, she hadn't dodged or pushed her away; she simply hadn't known how to handle such sudden physical contact.

This time was different. It wasn't that she didn't want to dodge, but simply that she hadn't reacted in time.

Lu Xueqing's movement was too fast—so fast that before the thought of “should I dodge” could even cross her mind, her body was already held in an embrace.

Fortunately, Lu Xueqing's hug was very brief, lasting only two breaths.

After Lu Xueqing let go, she took a step back. Her face was a bit flushed, but she still spoke.

“Junior Sister, congratulations.”

Bai Qingxue looked at her, opening her mouth as if to say something, but then she swallowed her words.

“...Mm,” Bai Qingxue responded.

The corners of Lu Xueqing's mouth curved slightly, and she said nothing more.

In the spectator stands, Su Zhaoyan stood up.

She had seen Lu Xueqing rush out from the rest area, seen her hug Bai Qingxue, and seen Lu Xueqing's ears turn red as she let go and stepped back.

Su Zhaoyan leaned back into her chair, and now the corners of her own mouth slowly curved upward.

Su Zhaoyan was suddenly curious: if the one hugging Bai Qingxue had been herself, what expression would Lu Xueqing have made?

Would she have rushed over to pull them apart, stood there with clenched fists, or pretended not to see?

Su Zhaoyan let the thought pass through her mind and then shook her head.

She didn't have that kind of hobby.

But thinking about it was still quite interesting.

In the distance, through a gap in the crowd, a pale green figure stood.

Ye Qingyao watched as Bai Qingxue walked off the arena and as Lu Xueqing rushed up to hug her. She saw that Bai Qingxue didn't dodge.

She remembered the time she had hugged Bai Qingxue herself.

In the Luoyun Mountain Range, when she thought she was going to die, she had thrown herself into Bai Qingxue's arms. Bai Qingxue had frozen just like this and hadn't pushed her away.

At the time, she thought Bai Qingxue was comforting her, just not knowing how to do it.

Now seeing that Lu Xueqing could do the same, she was suddenly unsure.

Perhaps she wasn't that special to Sister Bai after all...

Ye Qingyao shifted her gaze from Bai Qingxue to the tips of her own shoes.

Her shoes were stained with dew and withered leaves, just as they had been the day they parted in the Luoyun Mountain Range.

She clenched her fists and then released them. She remembered the last time she hugged Bai Qingxue—Bai Qingxue's hands had been suspended in mid-air, neither lowering nor withdrawing. She didn't know if that counted as a response, but she remembered the temperature; through a layer of robes, it was cool, like an autumn breeze.

Ye Qingyao took a deep breath and looked up.

Bai Qingxue had already walked far away, with Lu Xueqing following behind her, only half a step's distance between them.

That distance was very short—so short that it seemed as if either of them could reach the other with just a hand.

Ye Qingyao watched the scene, suddenly unsure how to define her feelings.

Sister Bai had won.

She should be happy; she ought to feel happy for Sister Bai.

From the first day of the competition, she had believed Sister Bai would win. Now that Sister Bai really had won, she should be smiling.

But the corners of Ye Qingyao's mouth curved up only to fall back down, like a door blown open and then shut by the wind.

How strange. Why was there something else weighed down beneath the happiness?

Ye Qingyao lowered her head and looked at her hand. The thin streak of blood in her palm from yesterday was no longer oozing; instead, it had formed a thin scab.

Looking at the thin scab, Ye Qingyao spoke softly to herself.

It's okay.