Li Shuang's expression remained as cold and distant as ever.
But at that moment, Long Yan's memories began to stir.
He hadn't been born a complete being. In the beginning, he was nothing more than a small, dormant spirit.
He still remembered vaguely—voices discussing him:
"This sword spirit seems to have congenital defects. It may be useless. Li Shuang, do you want to give it up?"
Though he had no true self-awareness then, he had felt a subconscious panic.
I'm not useless… if someone nurtures me, I can grow strong!
Yet he couldn't speak. All he could do was curl up in anxious silence.
How had Li Shuang answered?
Without hesitation, she said, "Since I brought the Dragon Roar Sword out of the Sword Pavilion, it proves that we are destined. From now on, this sword will be my partner—and I will not abandon my partner."
When he heard those words, joy filled his heart. He swore then that he would become stronger—a sword spirit worthy of her.
At first, he was too weak. His consciousness flickered in and out, and the few times he awoke, he only saw Li Shuang, tirelessly busy.
She spent endless hours in the library, searching for something unknown. She scoured markets for secret manuals, poring over piles of old papers through sleepless nights.
And then—one day—he awoke fully.
The first sight he saw was Li Shuang smiling.
She rarely smiled, but in that moment, the corners of her lips curved like the petals of an ice lotus in bloom.
He was deeply grateful—for her patience, for her refusal to abandon him, for all her efforts to awaken him.
From then on, he trained diligently with her. His spirit body grew stronger, his swordsmanship sharper, until he could finally keep up with her.
Li Shuang, a peerless genius, never once made him feel inferior. Instead, she praised him constantly, calling him the best sword spirit. She said he had unparalleled talent.
Encouraged by her faith in him, he grew confident. Together, they walked the path of strength.
He had thought—naively—that he would be Li Shuang's sword spirit for life.
But then… Zhao Zhao came.
With her came novelty, wonder, and dazzling color—things Li Shuang never gave him. Like a child who had just discovered the world, he was instantly captivated.
And so, he drifted away.
Colder to Li Shuang, but deeper and deeper in love with Ye Zhaozhao.
Back then, he believed he would never regret piercing Long Yin into Li Shuang's dantian.
But now—listening to Ye Zhaozhao's hysterical curses—he felt dazed.
Was everything I did truly worth it?
If it had been Li Shuang… would she ever force him to burn his spirit body so recklessly?
If it had been Li Shuang… would she ever curse him so cruelly?
No.
Even when reckless, she never once forced herself upon him. Instead, she nurtured him tirelessly, raising Long Yin to its current height.
But Ye Zhaozhao… did she really care about him, as she claimed?
"Long Yan, you piece of trash!" Ye Zhaozhao cursed viciously.
But Long Yan remained silent.
Her expression hardened.
Outsiders couldn't hear the words exchanged between sword cultivator and sword spirit, but Li Shuang seemed to understand from Ye Zhaozhao's twisted expression.
"You don't need to force him anymore," Li Shuang said calmly. "He burned his spirit body to use that technique. He has no strength left. Ye Zhaozhao, from here on—it's just you and me. The Dragon Roar Sword is in your hand. Let me see your swordsmanship."
Her indifferent tone silenced the entire arena.
All eyes turned toward Ye Zhaozhao.
Even Sheng Yuan and the others grew tense.
No one had ever seen her true swordsmanship before. Would this be their first glimpse?
Ye Zhaozhao's face darkened.
"What does it mean to burn the spirit body?" she suddenly asked.
Li Shuang answered flatly, "It means he forced himself to draw upon power he should never touch. His spirit body is already on the verge of dissolution. For now, you'd best not use him at all."
Ye Zhaozhao's expression shifted. Almost instinctively, she blurted out:
"Then… this sword spirit is useless now?"
The words slipped out before she even thought.
Long Yan's spirit body trembled. Disbelief flashed in his eyes.
Before, he could convince himself that she simply didn't know his situation.
But now—Li Shuang had explained everything clearly.
And yet, her first reaction was not worry for him, but the judgment that he was useless.
Even Li Shuang raised an eyebrow at this.
So this was the master Long Yan had chosen to betray her for?
Li Shuang's face remained impassive, though inwardly she noted how swiftly their bond was crumbling.
But it wasn't her concern anymore.
"Draw your sword—or admit defeat." Her cold gaze fixed on Ye Zhaozhao.
"Junior Sister, don't hold back!" Chang Le'an suddenly shouted from the sidelines. "Show her how strong you really are! Just draw your sword!"
His own match had ended quickly, so now he cheered her on with unshakable confidence.
The true genius, in his eyes, was Ye Zhaozhao—she couldn't possibly lose to Li Shuang.
But Ye Zhaozhao's face twisted.
Chang Le'an, you fool!
Draw her sword? With what swordsmanship?
Forcing a strained smile, she said sweetly, "Senior Sister Li, I really did want to spar with you… but you said yourself, Long Yan's condition is poor. I must take care of him first. I'll admit defeat."
Her words sounded noble, as though she sacrificed victory for Long Yan's sake.
In the sword spirit space, Long Yan's pained expression softened.
So… she still cares about me. Just now, she was only upset… right?
"Referee," Ye Zhaozhao said magnanimously, "you may announce the result. I concede."
The referee nodded, ready to speak.
But Li Shuang suddenly smiled. Her blade flicked forward, stabbing straight at Ye Zhaozhao.
Any true sword cultivator's first instinct would have been to raise their sword in defense.
Instead, Ye Zhaozhao screamed, turned tail, and ran—so panicked she even dropped the Dragon Roar Sword onto the stage.
She leapt from the arena, ready to accuse Li Shuang—
Only to see her calmly sheath the Black Abyss Sword with a faintly amused look.
"Ye Zhaozhao," Li Shuang said lightly, "it was just a casual strike. Why so frightened?"
Ye Zhaozhao stood frozen, speechless.
"A sword cultivator who abandons her sword—so this is your sword path." Li Shuang's tone was calm, almost indifferent. She turned to the referee. "You may announce the result."
The referee hesitated only briefly, his eyes flickering toward Ye Zhaozhao before he declared:
"Round Robin Match Two. Winner: Li Shuang!"