Translation:
One hundred and eight disciples of the Bouhua Hall—both male and female—surrounded Qin Ren, Xiao Xiangyue, and Liu Piaopiao.
The encirclement had three layers: the innermost was made up of eighteen female disciples, the second layer had thirty-six male disciples, and the outermost layer consisted of seventy-two female disciples. The disciples wore colorful clothes, which made the encirclement resemble a giant three-colored flower.
One hundred and eight steel long swords glinted under the sunlight. All the disciples of the Bouhua Hall held their swords in the same posture, and the reflected sunlight cast numerous spots of light on the three people.
Facing this ironclad formation, Qin Ren showed no change in expression.
With his martial arts skills, defeating all one hundred and eight of them was impossible.
But with his lightness skill, breaking through the encirclement would be quite easy.
However, Xiao Xiangyue and Liu Piaopiao were by his side. If he tried to use his lightness skills while carrying two women, his ability would be greatly hindered. Escaping wouldn't be as simple.
Especially when airborne, with two women, Qin Ren would lose the flexibility to change direction, and he would become a sitting duck for the others' hidden weapons.
Yet, Qin Ren didn't feel afraid. This wasn't because he had decided to ditch the two women and escape alone, but because he firmly believed in one thing:
He could never die. With a life expectancy of 127 years, his journey had just begun. How could he die now?
Confidence itself was a kind of power. As the disciples of the Bouhua Hall saw Qin Ren smiling without fear, with his left arm around Xiao Xiangyue's waist and his right hand resting on Liu Piaopiao's shoulder, they hesitated. The sight of him—embracing two women, exuding a mysterious aura—stopped the one hundred and eight disciples from acting rashly.
A gust of wind blew, lifting Qin Ren's long hair and his sky-blue robe. The sun, in a special trajectory, cast its rays, half of his face shrouded in shadow, while the other half shone with golden brilliance. The "charming aura" that had previously shocked the servants of the Qin family returned to Qin Ren's face once more.
The profound aura of a youth—so captivating that it could make beauties toss aside their skirts and handsome men jump from buildings—was present as Qin Ren smiled in the wind, radiant like spring peach blossoms.
His snow-white, even teeth, thin lips, high nose, bright eyes, and sword-like eyebrows made the female disciples of the Bouhua Hall blush, their hearts fluttering uncontrollably.
Meanwhile, the male disciples lowered their heads, feeling embarrassed, wishing they could find a hole in the ground to hide.
The atmosphere became very strange. Seeing his disciples hesitate to strike, Xiao Shanhe was infuriated. He roared, "What are you all doing? Don't just stand there—kill them!"
His thunderous roar finally broke the hesitation of the disciples. Despite their reluctance, the female disciples reluctantly shouted, "For the Hall Master!" and began to draw their swords.
Qin Ren heard their shouts and laughed aloud. "Why do you shout so weakly? It's like a maid moaning in bed. Could it be that you're all secretly in love with me?"
His blatant words made the female disciples of the Bouhua Hall blush furiously. They gritted their teeth and rushed toward Qin Ren with their swords, swearing to cut him into pieces. The male disciples in the second layer also seethed with jealousy, finding every opportunity to thrust their swords at Qin Ren, trying to turn him into a pincushion. The seventy-two female disciples in the outermost circle, unable to find a gap to strike, shouted insults from the sidelines, "You little thief, we won't spare you!" "Make way, let me take a swing!" "Kill that little scoundrel and see if he dares to speak so arrogantly!"
Forty-eight swords simultaneously attacked Qin Ren, creating a magnificent sight.
Within the sword shadows, Qin Ren laughed loudly and called out, "The Sword Saint is here. All swords in this world, bow down and acknowledge their master!"
To everyone's surprise, as soon as Qin Ren finished speaking, the forty-eight swords that were aimed at him suddenly changed direction, as if drawn by a huge magnet. They flew out of the disciples' hands, all rising toward the sky. The seventy-two female disciples on the outermost layer also watched as their swords slipped from their grasp and shot up into the sky, like seventy-two long rainbows.
After soaring high into the air, the one hundred and eight swords turned in mid-air and fell back down like a steel rain, creating sharp whistling sounds. The Bouhua Hall disciples were terrified, fleeing in panic.
The swords fell into the stone ground with a series of crisp sounds, embedding themselves three inches deep, forming three perfect circles. The blades still trembled, almost as if bowing in respect.
A clear and long whistle echoed as a colorful, blue-and-purple long rainbow descended from the sky with a loud thud, striking the center of the three circles of swords.
When the rainbow settled, the onlookers finally saw what it was—a five-foot-long sword, glowing with blue and purple auras. The sword's style was ancient and simple, and though its blade didn't appear particularly sharp, the radiant aura around it was captivating.
At that moment, the one hundred and eight swords shook even more fervently, as though bowing in deference to the five-foot-long sword in the center. The sword itself made a long, dragon-like hum, causing everyone to instinctively cover their ears in pain.
Even the Bouhua Hall disciples, skilled as they were, seemed unable to withstand the sound. Their faces turned pale. Xiao Shanhe stared at the sword in a daze, muttering, "The Crescent Moon Seven-Star Sword… it's the Crescent Moon Seven-Star Sword, and Qin Feng, the Sword Saint of the Milky Way… has arrived!"
Before Xiao Shanhe could finish speaking, a tall figure descended from the sky.
The figure was eight feet tall, dressed in a sky-blue robe, with a purple belt at his waist. His long hair was meticulously styled, and his handsome face was as cold as if covered with a layer of frost, devoid of any expression. A slight, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and his eyes—sharp and soul-piercing—shot out cold, lightning-like glints.
He floated down lightly, his toes tapping on the edge of the five-foot sword. With his hands clasped behind his back, he coldly scanned his surroundings. Anyone who met his gaze immediately felt as if two swords were pointed at their eyes and instinctively lowered their heads to look at their feet.
When his eyes landed on Qin Ren, they softened just a little. He gave Qin Ren a slight nod, and Qin Ren responded by extending his right hand, flashing a victory gesture with two fingers, tilting his head, and giving a playful wiggle.
The man who had descended from the sky was none other than Qin Ren's older brother, the legendary Sword Saint of the Milky Way—Qin Feng!