Up close, she was like a blooming peony—radiant, proud, and impossible to ignore.
Though she only approached at an unhurried pace, her face softened by a gentle smile, there was an inexplicable sense of danger in her presence. It wasn't until Song Wanníng stopped in front of them that the group seemed to snap out of their daze.
"Martial Nephew?"
Feng Xue's gaze lingered, her eyes growing brighter with each glance.
"Little Junior Sister, why didn't you say our little martial nephew was this beautiful?
Strength like hers is already rare enough, but to also have looks that stand out among ten thousand? How could those people outside even hope to compete with her? They're nothing but a pack of dogs who run at the first whiff of a bone!"
The thought of certain ill-intentioned people made her inwardly scoff.
Even Cang Yang, who had been silent until now, couldn't help but nod. "Indeed, our little martial nephew is exceptional. After all, she's the only junior of our Zhuiyun Peak."
Qin Ming stepped forward with a warm smile, pulling out a storage pouch and slipping it into Song Wanníng's hand without hesitation.
"Little martial nephew, our first meeting. I'll be counting on you in the future!"
He had already decided—this martial nephew had boundless potential. Before long, they might be the ones scrambling to keep up with her.
"Pfft—"
Qin Ming's words made Song Wanníng laugh aloud.
The faint formality from earlier dissolved in an instant, and warmth spread across her features.
"I have long heard Master praise the high cultivation and upright conduct of my martial uncles. Seeing you today, it is indeed as he said. This junior, Song Wanníng, greets my martial uncles."
She gave a proper bow of respect, and genuine goodwill stirred in her heart.
If this was Zhuiyun Peak, perhaps staying here wouldn't be so bad.
"Aiya, our Zhuiyun Peak doesn't stand on such ceremony," Feng Xue said, quickly grasping her hand. Feeling that delicate, cool skin, she couldn't resist discreetly running her fingers across it a few more times.
"Wanníng, was it? From now on, your Martial Uncle will look out for you. If anyone dares bully you, just give them our names."
In the cultivation world, martial uncles bore no distinction between men and women—Feng Xue was also her martial uncle.
She pulled out a storage pouch and pushed it into Song Wanníng's hand, finding herself more and more fond of the girl with every glance.
Little Junior Sister Leng Qingzhu was a beauty too, but she was far too reserved—ten sentences from Feng Xue might get two words in return.
This martial nephew was different—vivid, expressive, and far more lively.
Cang Yang, seeing the others, quickly fished out his own storage pouch and handed it over. His ears reddened slightly in embarrassment.
"Thank you, martial uncles."
Song Wanníng accepted each gift with a bright, sincere smile.
Leng Qingzhu, watching quietly from the side, felt her mood lift. From now on, Zhuiyun Peak would be their new home. She naturally hoped Song Wanníng would be treated with care and respect.
After some friendly conversation, they also reminded her about the strange phenomena occurring lately, warning her not to leave the peak until the secret realm expedition.
Song Wanníng nodded, then her eyes glinted mischievously.
"I wonder… would my martial uncles be willing to spar with me? Just suppress your cultivation to the peak of Void Refinement."
With such skilled opponents right before her, it would be a waste not to seize the opportunity.
"Of course! Come on, let's go now!"
Qin Ming and the others agreed without hesitation, cheerfully leading her toward the training platform.
Leng Qingzhu didn't follow, shaking her head with a small smile. For now, she still had to maintain the appearance of secluded cultivation.
…
At the platform, Cang Yang, as Fourth Martial Uncle, was the first to step forward.
"Don't go too hard on her," Qin Ming warned. "We don't want to hurt Wanníng or crush her confidence, understand?"
Cang Yang was straightforward to a fault and terrible at sugar-coating his words. Even with his cultivation suppressed, his true strength was nothing to scoff at. If he hit too hard, their only martial niece might end up badly hurt.
"She's precious to us, you know!"
"I understand."
Cang Yang nodded seriously. If he injured her, his senior brothers and sisters would never let him off. He was already prepared to hold back completely. As long as she enjoyed the match, it would be fine.
Song Wanníng, unaware of their discussion, was feeling more excited by the moment. She was eager to see the results of her body's recent transformation. Her eyes burned with fighting spirit; her whole being seemed to demand battle.
On the platform, Cang Yang stood with hands clasped behind his back. "Wanníng, make your move."
The words had barely left his mouth before she vanished in a streak of lightning, rushing toward him in an instant. He smiled faintly, raising his hand to form a seal—
But then an overwhelming force slammed into him.
In that instant, his expression twisted. Before he could react, his body was already flying through the air.
Boom!
He crashed heavily into the ground, coughing up blood in a scarlet spray, startling the others.
Song Wanníng herself froze in surprise and hurried over.
"Fourth Martial Uncle, are you alright? Why didn't you defend yourself?"
She had only wanted to test her physical strength—she hadn't expected to send him flying outright.
Cang Yang opened his mouth to speak, only to cough up more blood, pain distorting his features. Several ribs were broken, and his insides throbbed with injury. And Second Senior Brother had told him to hold back?
That was sending him straight to the grave!
Qin Ming and Feng Xue hurried over, expressions full of disdain.
What kind of act was this? If their martial nephew got cocky because of it, then what?
"Cang Yang, I think you need to train harder. Can't even handle Wanníng? What have you been cultivating all these years—dog tricks?"
Qin Ming's voice dripped with scorn. Even his lazy days were more productive than this.
Cang Yang: "…"
"If you think you can do better, get up here yourself!"
"Alright, alright. Let our junior brother rest. I'll spar with Wanníng next," Feng Xue said, rolling her eyes before pulling Song Wanníng back to the platform.
"Don't mind him. A pill will fix him up. Don't hold back. I'm not as useless as he is!"
Her brows lifted in a proud challenge, though she kept in mind she'd have to control her strength.
"Alright!"
Song Wanníng brightened. She looked down at her palm—one punch had already injured someone at the Unity stage. The sheer power was enough to make even her uneasy.
Battle intent surged even stronger in her eyes as she met Feng Xue's gaze.
A shiver ran down Feng Xue's spine. Something about that look felt… dangerous.
"Come!"
She raised a jade flute to her lips, releasing a wave of sound. The aura of a Void Refinement peak cultivator washed across the platform.
Song Wanníng's eyes narrowed. She leapt high, slamming a palm into the incoming sound wave.
Boom!
The wave shattered.
Feng Xue's pupils contracted in shock as she played again, but Song Wanníng was already upon her. Another palm strike shattered the sound—