Around them, disciples whispered furiously. Some spoke of Lao Xie as a rival to the outer sect's top three, others questioned his origins, while many simply gawked in disbelief. Each voice fed into the storm, and Ling Ruxin knew nothing would be the same after this day.
Her gaze lingered on his figure until it finally disappeared beyond the crowd. A quiet thought welled up within her chest. "Lao Xie… just what are you hiding?"
On the other side.
As Lao Xie stepped past the arena's edge, the roar of voices dulled behind him. It was then the system's voice slipped into his mind, smooth and precise, cutting through the noise.
"You actually did great controlling your emotion, Host."
Lao Xie's lips curved faintly, though his eyes stayed calm. "Mhmm-, Did you think I'd let a simple clash stir me?"
After a pause, he added under his breath, almost to himself, "Though… perhaps it almost did."
"…You were holding back."
The system's words were neither a question nor an accusation—it was a statement, plain and cold.
Lao Xie did not deny it. His steps carried him steadily down the stone path, past the murmuring disciples who cast him glances of awe and fear. "Victory alone is meaningless. What matters is what lingers after. Ming Yu value relationship — not severing our friendship is the best course of action for me, if i had crushed it entirely, he'd become useless to me in the future. This way, he still burns. And in time, that fire will serve me."
The system was silent for a breath before replying. "…Is that truly all?"
Lao Xie's faint smile lingered, but his eyes remained as placid as still water. "What else could it be? He's useful. Nothing more."
The words slipped from him easily, almost lazily, as though he believed them. Yet beneath the calm, even he knew it wasn't the whole truth. In that moment on the platform, when his blade could have ended it entirely, something unfamiliar had stirred—an impulse to hold back, not out of strategy but… restraint.
A dangerous thought. One he buried as quickly as it rose.
The system gave no answer this time. Perhaps it had seen through him, perhaps it had not.
Lao Xie's gaze drifted ahead, the corners of his mouth curling faintly as disciples whispered around him, none daring to draw too close. "Mhmm. Let them talk. Let them guess. What I choose to reveal, and what I choose to hide… that's mine alone."
With that, his shadows drifted away as he walked back directly to his hut.
The uproar did not end with the match.
By the time Lao Xie left the arena grounds, whispers had already begun to spread like fire catching dry grass. What had started as shocked murmurs among the disciples soon rippled outward—every corner of the sect carried the same name.
"Did you hear? Ming Yu admitted defeat."
"Impossible… but I saw it with my own eyes."
"They say Lao Xie's strength already rivals the top three."
"No, no—there's no way he's that strong. There has to be some hidden trick!"
Speculation tangled with disbelief, yet none could deny what they had witnessed. Ming Yu, the Lone Star of the outer sect, had bowed his head.
By the time dusk bled into night, the sect had not quieted. Lanterns glowed along the walkways, casting long shadows across the courtyards, yet the name on every tongue remained the same.
On a quiet ridge overlooking the training grounds, two figures sat beneath the open sky. Zhang Weiren leaned back against the stone rail, eyes half-lidded as if the day's noise did not concern him. Across from him, Shen Yun crouched with a flask in hand, his expression carrying a mix of amusement and unease.
"So it's true then," Shen Yun said, breaking the silence. He swirled the flask idly, watching the moonlight catch the liquid. "Ming Yu admitted defeat. I thought it was just some outer disciples exaggerating, but the rumors haven't died all day."
Zhang Weiren gave no answer at first. His gaze remained fixed on the darkened arena below, where echoes of cheering still seemed to linger in the air.
Shen Yun let out a low whistle. "They're saying Lao Xie already rivals the top three — us. Some even whisper he's the sect's next dark horse. What do you think?"
At that, Zhang Weiren finally stirred, the corner of his mouth tilting in something that wasn't quite a smile. His eyes narrowed, reflecting the lantern light like a blade catching the edge of a flame.
"So, what do you make of him?" Zhang Weiren asked at last, his voice calm as his gaze lingered on the lantern light.
Shen Yun gave a short laugh. "You're asking me? If he could make Ming Yu bow his head, then that's proof enough. The guy's no pretender—he's the real deal."
Zhang Weiren's eyes narrowed faintly, a soft hum escaping his throat. "Mm…"
After a brief silence, he spoke again. "And Mei Yan? Did you bother inviting her tonight?"
"That girl?" Shen Yun scoffed, waving his hand lazily. "She hardly ever joins us. What makes you think she'd come just because you asked?"
Zhang Weiren fell quiet, his expression unreadable. A moment later, he shook his head. "...Nothing."
Shen Yun smirked faintly, his eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned back against the stone railing. "By the way… you're still hung up on Mei Yan, aren't you?"
Zhang Weiren's expression didn't change, but the way his fingers tapped against his knee gave him away. Shen Yun chuckled. "Forget it, brother. That girl's heart is harder than jade. No matter how many years pass, she won't spare you a glance."
Zhang Weiren didn't rise to the jab. He let the silence hang for a breath before replying flatly, "...You waste your breath." Then, as if brushing the matter aside, he turned his gaze forward. "What do you think we should do about him?"
Shen Yun's playful smile faded, replaced by a more serious look. "Do? What can we do?" He shook his head slowly. "He didn't just defeat Ming Yu—he made Ming Yu surrender. Ming Yu, the lunatic that might have already rival our strength despite being a realm lower."
His tone lowered, a trace of caution seeping through. "And with what he showed today, the elders and inner disciples will be watching him closely. Any reckless move against him will just bring trouble. For now, we wait."
Zhang Weiren's eyes narrowed slightly, his thoughts unreadable in the dim glow of the lantern. "Hmph. Maybe so." His voice was quiet, carrying no certainty. "But whether he bears goodwill or ill intent… only time will tell."
The night breeze stirred the lanternlight, casting long shadows across the courtyard. After a pause, Zhang Weiren shifted the topic. "Enough of that. What about your next match?"
Shen Yun exhaled through his nose, looking almost bored. "It'll be an easy win. Other than you and Mei Yan, the only one worth watching was Ming Yu. But now… he's already fallen." His eyes narrowed slightly. "And a new threat has appeared."