The Unseen Victory

The solemn voice of the host reverberated through the martial arena, akin to ice water plunged into boiling oil, instantly shattering the pervasive silence.

Following a brief, charged pause, a sudden, thunderous roar erupted, far surpassing the intensity of any prior match, echoing like a mountain tsunami.

“What?! She won?! She… she merely pushed and tripped, and Senior Sister Zhao just tumbled off the stage?!”

“Does that even count as a victory? Senior Sister Zhao clearly overshot her momentum!”

“This is utterly preposterous! Senior Sister Zhao had just unleashed her Berserk Fiend Battle Art, her aura fierce and dominating, seemingly on the verge of pulverizing that Lin girl!”

“What abysmal luck! She was being utterly suppressed and nearly beaten to death just moments ago; how could a baffling hand-push and foot-hook at the very end secure her victory?! It defies all reason!”

Voices filled with confusion, indignation, and even resentment surged forth like a scalding tide from every corner of the viewing platform, particularly erupting from the area designated for the Bing-region disciples.

Zhao Miaozhi was renowned among the Bing-region disciples for her formidable combat prowess and unyielding demeanor, embodying the spirit of grassroots disciples who clawed their way up through sheer strength, earning her widespread admiration.

Witnessing her defeat in such a dramatic, almost humiliating manner—at the hands of a Sect Master’s personal disciple who had previously appeared utterly outmatched but now seemed blessed by “dumb luck”—the stark contrast proved utterly unacceptable to a great many onlookers.

“What a dreadful shame! Senior Sister Miaozhi had clearly unleashed the Berserk Fiend Battle Art! That was a desperate trump card, used at the risk of a severe backlash; if it had landed squarely, ten Lin Wan’ers would have been crushed into a pulp!”

“Alas, who could have predicted a slip at the very last moment… Could there be something peculiar about that arena stage?”

“In my opinion, Lin Wan’er simply has good fortune! Senior Sister Zhao charged in too aggressively, unable to halt her momentum! It was purely her luck!”

“It’s nothing but luck! Just moments ago, Senior Sister Zhao had her spitting blood and sent flying, yet now she wins in the blink of an eye? There’s no sense in that!”

“Pah! Isn’t this merely ‘opportunistic trickery’? She clearly dared not confront Senior Sister Zhao’s berserk power directly, resorting instead to such underhanded, petty maneuvers!”

“Precisely! This is a dishonorable victory! How can such a win be deemed worthy of the four words: ‘Sect Master’s Personal Disciple’?!”

Doubts and indignant cries rose and fell in a tumultuous chorus, coalescing into a formidable wave of sound, interwoven with profound regret for Zhao Miaozhi and intense dissatisfaction directed at Lin Wan’er.

To them, the battle’s sudden, “coincidental” turning point was simply unbelievable; Lin Mo’s seemingly innocuous final movement could not possibly have forced Zhao Miaozhi, who had just erupted with power akin to an ancient beast, to stumble so ignominiously from the arena.

Yet, a select few felt their pupils abruptly constrict, their hearts churning with a tempest of revelation.

In the front rows of the viewing platform, the placid smile on Qiu Yue’s face completely froze for the very first time.

Deep within her seemingly vacant eyes, the final, electrifying moments of the bout played out repeatedly, like a scene in slow motion.

Lin Mo had, indeed, injured her own wrist. If her previous injury could be dismissed as mere coincidence, how then could this latest incident be explained?

Qiu Yue’s perception was astonishingly keen! She distinctly “saw” that the instant Lin Mo’s fingertips brushed past, several almost imperceptible strands of Profound Yin spiritual energy, finer than a strand of hair, like venomous ice snakes, had precisely and silently burrowed into the crevices between the tendons and ligaments surrounding Zhao Miaozhi’s right ankle joint!

‘How long had he practiced?’

‘How long had Lin Mo practiced?’

‘Could someone who had only just stepped onto the path of cultivation within the last month master such a technique merely by observing her once?’

Within the Xuan Nv Sect Hall, a profound silence had similarly fallen.

Mu Qingli gazed at the settled scene on the light screen, her previously taut expression, a consequence of Qing You’s cold mockery, instantly softening.

The corners of her lips curved upwards into an undeniably prominent arc, and the triumph in her eyes seemed to solidify, nearly spilling forth as tangible light.

Gracefully, she lifted her teacup, delicately blowing away the floating foam, her peripheral gaze subtly drifting towards Grand Elder Qing You, who sat beside her, clearly squirming with discomfort.

“Ah,” Mu Qingli drawled, her voice soft yet perfectly clear for all to hear, “Some individuals, they constantly drone on about shallow foundations and inherent weakness. One truly wonders how such discernment led them to the esteemed position of Grand Elder. Could it be that their cultivation has perhaps addled their minds, affecting their very eyesight?”

She set down her teacup with a crisp chime, then turned her gaze to Qing You, her expression brimming with “sincere” perplexity. “Grand Elder, what was it you just declared? ‘The outcome is yet undecided, so why such impatience?’ Oh~” As if struck by a sudden realization, she lightly tapped her forehead. “My apologies, I seem to have been presumptuous. It appears that, in the esteemed Grand Elder’s perception, such meticulous insight, direct targeting of vital joints, and the exquisite manipulation of returning an opponent’s methods against them, are still considered ‘undecided’ factors. In that case, I truly must ‘listen with bated breath’ for your ‘profound insights’ on how one judges victory and defeat, Grand Elder. Hmm?”

“Where, pray tell, are these profound insights? And as for your disciple’s techniques, how did my own apprentice manage to grasp them with but a single glance?”

“Ah?”

Mu Qingli leaned forward once more, her body almost brushing against Qing You’s.

Meanwhile, Lin Mo stood calmly on the stage, his slender figure radiating the steadfastness of a mountain.

As Lin Mo stood upon the stage, Qing You, observing him, felt her hand clench into a fist within her sleeve, her knuckles turning stark white from the intensity of her emotions.

She, of course, had comprehended the truth! And it was precisely this understanding that fueled her escalating shock and fury.

Qing You forcibly quelled the tumultuous anger churning within her, a suppressed, chilling snort escaping her throat, imbued with an icy edge. “Hmph! Mere trivial tricks! Exploiting the arena’s rules, engaging in opportunistic maneuvers. A victory it may be, but only a stroke of luck that he encountered a body cultivator with slightly weaker foundations, allowing him to flaunt a modicum of cleverness!”

“He remains leagues away from the path of a true powerhouse!”

“He will never amount to anything significant! True competition will forever hinge upon absolute strength!”

“Acting Sect Master, you mustn’t be swayed by these unsophisticated tactics!”

Despite the harsh, cutting words, the underlying weakness and lack of conviction were palpable to anyone who listened.

Mu Qingli’s smile broadened, blossoming like flowers in the first thaw of winter. “Oh~~ So, discerning vital joints, precisely controlling spiritual energy, and delivering a single decisive strike to break a deadlock—in the Grand Elder’s esteemed view, these are all but ‘petty tricks’ and ‘unsophisticated tactics’, are they not?”

“In that case, I shall immediately inform your disciples, Grand Elder, to cease practicing their spells and simply switch to body cultivation! After all, your master herself declares that only body cultivation holds any genuine future~”

Qing You’s body trembled faintly with suppressed rage.

She clamped her lips shut, her eyes blazing as she glared, refusing to cast another glance at Mu Qingli.

Upon the arena stage, Lin Mo remained utterly oblivious to the surging tide of criticism.

He gingerly touched the wound on his shoulder, which had been grazed by a fist’s wind, wisps of chilling spiritual energy circling his fingertips as he steadily suppressed the piercing pain and turbulent qi and blood within the injury.

In truth, Lin Mo had considered this very possibility long ago.

‘What truly constituted his advantage?’

‘It was quite simple: the knowledge he had acquired on Blue Star, encompassing everything from martial arts to human anatomy and tissue structures… he had dabbled in it all.’

‘The reason was straightforward: he had spent an inordinate amount of time confined to his bed.’

Consequently, Lin Mo understood that the human body’s skin possessed countless minuscule pores.

Provided spiritual energy was sufficiently refined, it could permeate the body, requiring minimal exertion—a mere gentle application of force would be enough to incapacitate an opponent.

Naturally, if an opponent’s body was enveloped in a protective layer of spiritual energy, such a tactic would prove ineffective.

However, if an opponent’s spiritual energy surged violently, no longer maintaining a protective covering, and they chose to confront him solely with their raw physical strength…

…then his own Profound Yin Qi, quite fortuitously, seemed remarkably well-suited to countering such body cultivators.

‘This, then, was his true weapon, his genuine reliance, rather than any nebulous, fleeting luck.’

Lin Mo offered a faint smile, taking a deep, fortifying breath as he savored the taste of victory.

Yet—

“Hmph, still has the audacity to smile! It was nothing but sheer luck!”

“Exactly! Look at her, she’s clearly badly injured. I bet she’ll lose the next match!”

“A victory snatched by dumb luck, does she really think she’s capable?”

“Just watch, she won’t get far!”

The air remained filled with incessant chatter about “luck,” “dishonorable victory,” and “opportunistic trickery”; some even began calculating his injuries, predicting his inability to endure the subsequent rounds.

These voices were sharp and prejudiced, fading into a noisy background for Lin Mo.

Lin Mo, however, merely quirked the corner of his mouth. “What, don’t like what you see? Come down and fight me, then! If you dare to descend, I dare to accept! Yet your hands remain idle. How is it that you’re so unbalanced when this ‘luck’ doesn’t fall upon you, hmm?”

“You wretched lot, if you’re so unconvinced, come down and fight me! Damn it! I’ll give it ten breaths, no matter who comes down, I’ll—”

However, the host granted him no opportunity for further grandstanding, teleporting him away directly!

Just as his middle finger began to rise, Lin Mo found himself back on the viewing platform.

‘Tsk, nothing to be done.’

Nevertheless, the clamor of insults persisted, but Lin Mo paid them no mind; a pack of barking dogs, he loved it!

‘Would one truly rush out the window to bark back at dogs outside?’

Yet, upon his return, Lin Mo sensed something was amiss.

A group of people had formed a circle, surrounding something unknown, with continuous sounds of “Tsk, tsk” rising from them.

Only Liu Ruyan stood outside the circle, her expression dim, sitting dejectedly.

She looked up, her eyes silently meeting Lin Mo’s as he returned. “Sister Wan’er is back? I… we have a surprise for you…”

‘A surprise?’

‘If it truly were a surprise, why the lack of energy?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Where had Ji Xue gone?’

“Where is Your Highness?”

“Alas…” Liu Ruyan rose to her feet. “Everyone, please disperse… Sister Wan’er is back.”

As Liu Ruyan’s voice rang out, the crowd turned to look, instinctively parting to create a path.

At the end of the cleared space, a single young woman sat on a seat, her hands resting on her knees, her face flushed crimson with overwhelming shyness, unable to lift her head.