If not for her own abilities, she truly would have lost all face today.
Even so, Sun Lian's cheeks still burned with humiliation. She had thought she was here to teach someone the rules, yet now it seemed there was a real chance she might end up the one being taught.
Her heart sank. No matter what, she could not lose.
With barely a flicker of thought, she launched another attack.
This time, she wasted no time on probing strikes. She unleashed her ultimate technique.
"Draw the Circle, Become the Prison!"
Her long whip suddenly burst apart into countless sparks, like fireflies scattering into the air. From beneath the ground, from every direction, crimson lights rose upward.
In the blink of an eye, they wove into a blazing scarlet net that closed in around Song Wanníng.
Song Wanníng's eyes narrowed. She glanced down—and saw a formation spreading beneath her feet. Petals unfurled like blooming lotus flowers, competing to open.
But something was wrong. From each fiery blossom, thin tendrils emerged, writhing toward her ankles.
The air was choked with the thick, coppery scent of blood. She lifted her sword and struck without holding anything back. The sword strike carried the pure force of the Sword Dao True Realm, infused with a fierce fire attribute, slashing straight toward the grasping tendrils.
She was merely opening a channel, letting her internal world's power pour through.
The blade's light sheared through every tendril in its path, and the crimson glow in the air faded without a sound.
A gasp rippled through the onlookers.
"Wait, Senior Sister Sun Lian's Draw the Circle, Become the Prison was broken that easily?"
"No, it didn't even have time to fully take effect before it was destroyed!"
"That technique works by binding the target with thousands of fire threads, while the fire lotuses below release a strange aura that bewilders the opponent's Primordial Soul, making them lose focus."
"But this time, it appeared only for a moment before being cut apart. And so easily, too!"
The watching disciples stared at Song Wanníng with completely different eyes now—no longer scornful or dismissive, but filled with astonishment and respect.
In the cultivation world, strength alone commanded respect.
Song Wanníng, holding her sword, quietly reviewed the strike she had just made. In a real battle, she needed to bring out a sword's full power as fast as possible—only then could she hope to win in a single decisive blow.
"Pff—"
Sun Lian's technique had failed, and the spiritual energy she had poured into it left her drained. She could not hold back a mouthful of blood.
In less than the time it took to brew a cup of tea, she had been injured, her body marked with cuts and burns. At this point, she finally admitted to herself she was not Song Wanníng's match. But that didn't mean she would yield.
Gritting her teeth, she rushed forward again.
In the very next instant, a flash of light erupted at Song Wanníng's feet. Sun Lian felt her Primordial Soul jolt as if struck. Before she could recover, cold steel was resting against her neck.
Her expression froze. She knew at once this was a technique targeting the Primordial Soul.
A familiar tactic—now turned against her. Sun Lian let out a wry smile.
She understood now. Song Wanníng had been holding back all along, fighting with ease, never going all out.
Yet she had believed herself evenly matched.
What a joke.
"I lost."
Sun Lian admitted defeat, sincerely and without resentment.
Song Wanníng had not gained her true disciple status through connections. So which idiot had been spreading those rumors?
"I'm sorry, Senior Sister Song!"
She quickly changed her form of address. Even if Song Wanníng had joined the sect later than her and possessed lower cultivation, she was willing to call her Senior Sister.
"I failed to tell right from wrong. I spoke rudely before. I hope Senior Sister Song can forgive me."
Sun Lian might be impulsive at times, but she was no fool. A strong opponent who was also a true disciple was not someone she could afford to offend. Her sudden change of attitude actually surprised Song Wanníng.
Most people she met were as stubborn as stone. Someone who knew when to yield was rare.
"You're too polite. I won't hold it against you."
Song Wanníng smiled faintly. She did not press the matter further, simply nodding and sheathing her sword.
Seeing this, Sun Lian let out a breath of relief. Had Song Wanníng decided to pursue the matter, they would truly have become enemies.
"I have offended you."
She clasped her fists in salute before leaping down from the platform.
Below, Sun Qing and the others were waiting. Sun Lian, face flushed, returned to their side, but could not find the words to speak.
Sun Qing chuckled. "Do you believe me now? I told you not to act rashly."
Sun Lian's blush deepened. "I… I misjudged. But Brother, you didn't stop me either…"
It was obvious he had known from the start she would lose.
"Would you have listened if I tried? Better to let you find out for yourself, so you won't be used as someone's pawn next time."
He tapped her forehead lightly, then glanced back at Song Wanníng before leading their group away.
Song Wanníng had just arrived in the sect, yet so many had suddenly appeared to challenge her. Anyone with half a brain could tell there was someone pulling strings behind the scenes. And this girl had walked right into it.
Thankfully, Song Wanníng had shown restraint.
Once Sun Lian's group left, even Sun Qing hadn't stepped in to back his sister.
The disciples' gazes on Song Wanníng grew even hotter.
She pretended not to notice, sweeping her eyes casually over the crowd. Seeing no particularly impressive figures, she felt slightly disappointed.
In that case, there was no need to waste more time here.
"If anyone is still unconvinced, come and challenge me. If there's truly no one in the sect, you can all come at once. I don't mind."
Her arrogant words hung in the air as she turned and left without looking back.
The remaining disciples burst into an uproar. The statement was too bold, too brazen.
"Elder Sister, you said that just to provoke them, didn't you?"
Long Ling blinked her large eyes at Song Wanníng.
The disciples clearly looked furious now.
Those gazes of admiration from moments ago had shifted into something more complex.
Wouldn't this make Elder Sister worry about making too many enemies?
Song Wanníng only shrugged, looking utterly unconcerned.
"The people of Guhan Sect are clever. They won't be used so easily. If I don't show a little arrogance, the true genius disciples won't bother to come out."
She wanted to see how she compared with the sect's homegrown talents, to roughly gauge her own level, and perhaps use them to hone her combat skills.
After all, her master would be away for some time yet, and she had nothing else to do.
It was just a pity that only ordinary disciples had come to challenge her today.
Not a single true genius had appeared.
"Winning or losing doesn't matter. There's always someone stronger. Victory and defeat are just part of a cultivator's path."
Even in the lower realm, she had lost many times. She felt no burden over it.
Long Ling tilted her head in thought, not sure she fully understood. She glanced at the small golden sword currently in slumber, her eyes softening.
Her elder brother had only fallen into rest this morning, yet after just half a day, she already felt the absence keenly.
But why had he suddenly gone into dormancy?