Liu Yao had always cared deeply about his image, to the point of bordering on performance obsession.
Growing up in a less privileged household, surrounded by the golden children of powerful cultivators, he developed a quiet inferiority complex. It was the root of his unstable state of mind, easily swayed by external circumstances.
Now, after being thoroughly humiliated by Song Wanníng in front of the crowd, his fragile pride cracked. He raised his hand and struck forward. Behind him, the fierce silhouette of a tiger appeared with a roar.
The wind howled across the dueling platform, the very skies shifting as the beast's phantom let out a mighty roar.
Song Wanníng felt the crushing pressure rush toward her like a tidal wave, and in the same moment, the massive palm was nearly upon her.
If it landed, she would be sent flying.
But she remained calm. Without missing a beat, she raised her sword and slashed forward. The sword intent re-emerged, encasing both Liu Yao and the tiger's phantom in its domain.
His palm strike evaporated within it, as though it had never existed.
The force that had seemed so unstoppable moments ago now vanished like smoke in the wind.
Liu Yao didn't fall to his knees this time, but somehow, that only made things worse.
To the spectators, he simply stood there, red-faced and trembling, as if struggling with invisible chains. Veins bulged along his neck. His face twisted into a grimace, eyes bloodshot and glazed. Sweat poured down his forehead.
All this, while Song Wanníng had already lowered her sword and stood at ease.
So what was Liu Yao doing?
That question lingered in everyone's mind.
"Could it be that Song Daoyou used some kind of technique?" someone muttered.
"But I didn't sense any spiritual fluctuation."
"Exactly. She stopped attacking a while ago. With so many Nascent Soul cultivators present, if she really did something, would not even one of us sense it?"
Even Song Wanníng at her best would have to stir some qi if she acted. Yet the air was still, serene. No signs of trickery.
On the high platform, the senior cultivators exchanged glances but said nothing.
Watching Liu Yao flail and strain like a one-man act was both baffling and absurd. Their expressions twisted with suppressed amusement and secondhand embarrassment.
The cultivators from Wangshan Sect could no longer bear to watch.
Being from the same sect as Liu Yao now felt like a public disgrace.
Did he even know what he looked like?
The Wangshan Sect Master wished he could disappear on the spot. After more than two hundred years in leadership, never had he felt such shame.
In the crowd, Liu Yiyi looked as if she'd gone numb. Mocking laughter echoed from every direction, stabbing at her composure.
Her brother had truly gone mad. For a woman, he'd abandoned all sense of self-respect. She had underestimated Song Wanníng's charm far too much.
On the dueling platform, Song Wanníng put on an expression of innocent confusion. Her eyes glinted mischievously as she asked, "Liu Yao, is this really necessary? If you keep this up, I might get angry."
Liu Yao said nothing, his entire face twitching.
This woman was still acting?
How had he not seen this side of Song Wanníng before?
He had truly misjudged her. Years of being fooled by that soft-spoken exterior.
He clenched his fists, fighting the force weighing down on him. He still had no idea what kind of power Song Wanníng was wielding, or how she had hidden it for so long.
Finally, as he managed to straighten up a little, he heard her raise her voice again.
"Liu Yao, you've gone too far! This kind of behavior... it's insulting to me!"
"???"
He looked up, still trying to process her sudden change in tone, when a sword light flashed toward him. His face went pale. He jumped to the side just in time, the icy edge of the strike brushing past his sleeve.
He sighed in relief—only for Song Wanníng to wink at him.
His heart sank.
Sure enough, in the next instant, a freezing aura surged from behind him.
He turned, ready to strike, but that strange pressure returned. His knees buckled, nearly sending him down again.
In that moment of weakness, a small golden sword pierced his shoulder from behind.
"Pffft—!"
The blade punched straight through, exiting cleanly. Blood sprayed in an arc as his qi stuttered and stalled.
His face turned deathly pale.
Then came her voice, cold and sharp as steel.
"How dare you! I don't need your pity!
You've gone too far. If you're going to be so stubborn, don't blame me for being merciless!"
With that, Song Wanníng launched a full offensive. Sword after sword, shimmering and deadly.
Liu Yao scrambled to defend himself, but every move felt like it was underwater. His body refused to respond. Lifting a hand was a chore.
He was nothing but a punching bag.
And she? She was venting her fury with every blow.
The audience watched in stunned silence.
"Look at that. Master Song is actually angry. I've never seen her like this before."
"Yeah. Even when she broke off her engagement with Master Gu, she didn't get this mad. Liu Yao's behavior must've really crossed a line."
"He really thought Master Song couldn't beat him? Unbelievable."
"Even if he hadn't held back, she still wouldn't have lost. But now it just looks like she only won because he let her."
"If I were her, I'd be furious too!"
"Yeah, this is just insulting. Anyone would lose it."
They all understood why Song Wanníng had snapped. She was a respected Nascent Soul cultivator, and Liu Yao had made it seem like she needed his mercy to win.
It was an unbearable kind of humiliation.
No wonder she looked like she was fighting for blood now.
In just a few breaths, Liu Yao was covered in wounds. Blood soaked through his robes. He barely looked human anymore.
Already on edge, Liu Yao caught wind of the crowd's chatter and almost choked on his rage.
Mercy?
As if!
He wasn't trying to lose. He simply couldn't win.
Song Wanníng was too cunning. He couldn't keep up with her at all.
Still, he tried to fight back. But his retaliation barely scratched her defenses. Meanwhile, her attacks tore through him like a blade through paper.
He was reduced to a helpless, battered mess. A target for her fury.
Only when Song Wanníng's anger had run its course did she lift her sword again. This time, it shimmered with full intent, the atmosphere rippling around her.
To the crowd, her figure seemed to grow taller, her presence expanding like a giant of myth raising her blade.
The killing intent made the senior cultivators on the high platform freeze in place. A few even rose to their feet.
"Junior Sister Song!"
The Sect Master of Wentian Sect shouted, panic in his voice. He leapt from the platform toward the dueling stage.
This was just a spar. But Song Wanníng looked ready to kill.
And this was someone they could not afford to lose.
The Sect Master of Wangshan Sect reacted at the same time, his expression grim. He moved as fast as he could, hoping to stop the final blow.
But they were a beat too late.
Boom—!
The sword intent struck Liu Yao head-on.
His body was flung across the arena like a broken doll. Blood burst from his mouth in a violent arc, staining the dueling stage red.
Thud.
He landed with a heavy crash.
Unmoving.
===
Hi everyone~ Just dropping by with a little update ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
One of my other translation projects, titled My Daughter is the Empire's Lucky Charm, is now fully translated!
Yup, I've completed the whole thing! ٩(｡•́‿•̀｡)۶
It's still updating on the site, but you can look forward to daily releases until the end.
As for my next project, I'll be diving into a post-apocalyptic rebirth story. The female lead is a mother who survived two years after the world ended, only to be reborn before the apocalypse began. In her first life, she was mistreated and used by her husband and his mistress. But in this second life, she's determined to protect her daughter and live for herself. Revenge? Oh, absolutely. But her child comes first.
Like most apocalypse+rebirth stories, she has a space with still-time storage. Alongside her daughter, she forms a small survival team: a male gym instructor, a college student, a women (I forgot her exact pre-apocalypse jobs) with her grandmother. Oh, and if I remember right... there's a dog too!
This isn't a zombie apocalypse, by the way—it's a full-blown natural disaster apocalypse.
What left the deepest impression on me was the twist near the end. I honestly didn't see it coming. Without spoiling too much, let's just say that by the final chapters, most of humanity is wiped out by a disaster so bizarre and illogical... it actually works as a narrative gut punch.
After that novel, I plan to return to ancient Chinese historical fiction, specifically set during the Qin Dynasty and though it shares some vibes with Lucky Charm, but it's at least twice as long. Expect more intense kingdom-building, politics, and national development!
I'm also eyeing a novel where the female MC is the daughter of Wu Zetian, the first Female Emperor in Chinese history. I haven't read it yet, but the premise sounds fascinating, so I've added it to my list of upcoming translations. Both are fairly long works, but I think you'll enjoy them!
On the flip side, I've decided not to pick up that popular novel about a female police officer transmigrating to ancient times, fleeing danger, and becoming an empress. While the story has its strong points, the heroine's core beliefs just don't align with mine. I enjoy kingdom-building and strategic development, but one of her major principles really grated on me. And since translation is more than just a one-time read, forcing myself to work on something I clash with would feel like mental torture (´-﹏-`). I wouldn't be able to bring my best to the table that way.
I might also start working on a yuri-themed ancient historical novel—daily updates, maybe one chapter per day. That one's still in the planning stages though, so no promises yet!
Thank you for reading my ramblings and for supporting my work! Stay tuned for more exciting stories ahead~ (≧▽≦)💕