Chapter 7: The Grand Competition’s First Step

By the time Shui Jingxuan returned to his humble little cottage, Azhuang had already finished his training. He was squatting by the doorway, craning his neck and gazing intently, clearly awaiting his return.

“Axi, what have you been up to lately? Your illness is gone, yet you’re not practicing diligently. As soon as the instructor leaves, you slack off! The grand competition to select inner disciples is next month; you’ll be eliminated at this rate.”

From a distance, Azhuang spotted Shui Jingxuan strolling leisurely towards him. He quickly scrambled to his feet, rushing forward with a barrage of admonishments.

His excessive tension was understandable. If Shui Jingxuan were to be eliminated, he wouldn’t just be denied martial arts training; he’d be relegated to the lowest and most strenuous manual labor.

His life would be incredibly harsh, and given his young age, whether he would even live to adulthood was questionable.

Feeling Azhuang’s sincere concern, Shui Jingxuan’s heart warmed slightly. He pursed his lips into a smile, then took out two grilled green fish, wrapped in lotus leaves, from his satchel and offered them. His soft, childish voice was remarkably clear and pleasing.

“Senior Brother, there’s no need to worry. I merely found a secluded spot to practice; I wasn’t slacking off. These are the fish I caught. Please, eat them.”

A grand competition? What a timely coincidence! He could use this opportunity to display his prowess. If he could catch the eye of an elder and be taken in as a direct disciple, it would be his crucial first step.

As he pondered this, Shui Jingxuan’s mood brightened further, and his already refined features seemed to glow with a gentle radiance, captivating anyone who beheld him.

Azhuang inhaled deeply, drawn by the enticing aroma of grilled fish wafting from the lotus leaves. His mouth watered profusely.

Hearing that Axi hadn’t been slacking off, he immediately cast aside his worries, grinned widely, accepted the grilled fish, and began to devour them with gusto.

After a few bites, he remembered the fish’s origin and frowned, turning to Shui Jingxuan. “Axi, did you catch these fish in the Cold Pond?”

“Yes, I go there every day to practice,” Shui Jingxuan replied, propping his chin on his hands as he sat cross-legged on the bed, watching Azhuang’s ravenous eating with keen interest.

“Don’t go fishing in the Cold Pond anymore, even if you’re starving, you must resist! I can always get into a few fights to win you an extra bowl or two of rice.

The Cold Pond is too deep, with many underwater caves and whirlpools, and the water weeds grow thick. If you dive down, you could easily be swept away by a whirlpool or entangled by the weeds, unable to surface.

More than a dozen people have drowned there; the Yin energy is heavy, and I’ve even heard tales of water ghosts looking for substitutes! Everyone calls it the Water Ghost Pond. Didn’t you know?”

As Azhuang spoke, he couldn’t help but shiver. Thinking that the fish in his hands had been fished from the Water Ghost Pond, perhaps imbued with Yin energy, he suddenly found them less appetizing.

‘No wonder the Cold Pond is so rarely visited; that’s the reason! Such superstitious ancient people! Well, that’s fine; all those fat fish are mine for the taking!’ Shui Jingxuan mused inwardly, finding it rather amusing.

His small, pink lips curved upwards, and he waved his hand, saying, “Senior Brother, don’t worry. I didn’t go into the water; I used a fishing rod. It was very safe. I won’t go there anymore. Hurry and eat; don’t let it go to waste.”

Seeing his junior brother’s jade-like, adorable face alight with a faint, indescribably beautiful smile that inexplicably captivated him, Azhuang stared for a moment.

When he snapped back to reality, his cheeks flushed with heat, feeling acutely embarrassed. He quickly lowered his head and ate the fish in large bites, trying to conceal his awkwardness.

His distraction was understandable. Shui Jingxuan’s current body was already quite handsome in this life, the kind that grew more appealing with prolonged viewing.

After being transformed by his abilities, he was naturally even more exceptional. At first glance, one would only perceive him as clear and refined, but a second glance would reveal a pleasing aesthetic.

Only with a third look could one truly grasp the profound, innate beauty, etched into his very bones, that embodied the saying, ‘Only when faded does the flower reveal its true brilliance.’

Coupled with the contradictory aura of both ultimate strength and gentleness, forged in the apocalypse, his already striking appearance gained another three parts of elegant charm, making him all the more captivating.

Azhuang was a simple, uneducated man. He sensed Shui Jingxuan’s recent changes but couldn’t articulate them, feeling a suffocating frustration in his heart.

He could only eat in silence. After a few bites, perhaps thinking his reaction was overblown and that his junior brother wasn’t off-limits to look at, he lifted his head again and spoke with a guileless grin,

“Axi, you’re well now, and you’ve put on some weight! You look much better than before! From now on, Brother Azhuang will snatch more food for you, so you won’t get thin again.”

“Mm, thank you, Senior Brother!” Shui Jingxuan thought, ‘This kid Azhuang is truly guileless and adorable,’ and his smile widened even further.

Dazzled by his junior brother’s brilliant smile, Azhuang froze. His cheeks, which had just lost their flush, heated up again. He quickly turned back to his fish, his head bowed so low it almost disappeared into the lotus leaves.

After finishing the fish in two or three bites, Azhuang was still worried his junior brother wouldn’t pass the grand competition. He insisted on pulling Shui Jingxuan to practice sword forms outside the door.

Shui Jingxuan felt somewhat unenthusiastic but couldn’t bear to dampen Azhuang’s spirits, so he moved along with him. After all, Azhuang meant well. However, this sword technique—he truly couldn’t bring himself to appreciate it.

In his eyes, aside from three killing moves (a chop, a hack, and a thrust) at the beginning, middle, and end, the rest were merely flashy, superficial forms, riddled with flaws and extremely impractical.

Through the tempering of the apocalypse, the art of killing had been etched into his very bones.

Every move he made aimed directly for the opponent’s vital points, striving for utmost conciseness to achieve speed, ruthlessness, and precision, delivering a fatal blow in a single strike.

It was utterly incomparable to such dazzling swordplay. His combat style had long since formed a fixed path, which would only be continuously refined, never altered.

Martial arts practice, he believed, should inherently possess one’s unique style; otherwise, one would struggle to ever ascend to the ranks of true masters.

Azhuang noticed his junior brother repeatedly practicing only those three moves—chop, hack, and thrust—without any other actions.

Yet, the expression on his small face was exceedingly serious and earnest, as if he were cultivating some profound technique. For a moment, he found him utterly adorable.

He sheathed his sword, stepped forward, and chuckled, “Axi, why are you only practicing these three moves? Did you forget the others? Brother will teach you.”

“No need. Mastering these three moves is sufficient,” Shui Jingxuan refused, shaking his head. His hand movements didn’t stop for a moment; the three sword forms danced swiftly, transitioning smoothly like flowing water.

As he shifted and leaped, many variations derived from them, full of killing intent, leaving not a single leaf untouched.

Azhuang was startled by his chilling aura and the simple yet profound sword moves, retreating two steps.

When he looked closely again, his junior brother was still the same junior brother, and the sword moves were still those simple three, unchanged.

Azhuang secretly thought he must have been mistaken. Seeing his junior brother’s earnest expression, which was exceptionally beautiful, he considered that perhaps he had forgotten and was too embarrassed to ask for help.

He found this little quirk of his even more endearing. With a guileless smile, he spoke,

“Alright, you practice these three moves for now. If you’re unfamiliar with other moves after mastering these, I’ll demonstrate them for you.

Don’t be afraid; just do your best in the competition. If you get eliminated, Brother Azhuang will take care of you. After training, I’ll do your chores for you; just leave all the dirty and tiring work to me.”

As he finished speaking, he glanced at his junior brother’s small face and added optimistically,

“Besides, Axi, you’re so handsome, even more handsome than Wolf Girl. You might not be eliminated at all! You could very well catch the eye of an elder and be taken on as a personal attendant!

If you become a personal attendant, you won’t have to suffer, and life will be much easier than for inner disciples.”

‘So, I worked so hard to get myself plump and fair just to be used as a personal attendant?

This kid is really good at planning my future!’ Shui Jingxuan grumbled inwardly. He stopped his sword moves, bent his finger, stood on his tiptoes, and flicked Azhuang’s forehead, chiding him with a hint of a smile,

“How do you know I won’t be chosen? Can’t you speak properly? I’m tired; I’m not practicing anymore.” He pushed open the door and went inside to rest.

His junior brother’s tone was playful, and the flick on his forehead conveyed an indescribable intimacy.

Azhuang clutched his forehead, his smile becoming even more guileless, and repeatedly apologized, insisting that Axi would surely be chosen.

With the grand competition looming, Shui Jingxuan practiced even more diligently, often soaking in the Cold Pond until the moon hung high among the willow branches before returning.

He had inadvertently discovered that practicing his abilities in the water made their circulation smoother and their growth faster, significantly boosting his internal energy as well.

Perhaps it was because the water here remained unpolluted, containing a high concentration of spiritual energy.

Thus, Shui Jingxuan became practically akin to the fish in the pond, spending nearly every day at the bottom of the pool.

Time always flew by when busy. In the blink of an eye, a month had passed, and the day of the grand competition finally arrived.

The ten martial arts instructors were, in fact, the ten great elders of the Demonic Cult. They each initially guided fifty apprentices.

During the grand competition, forty would be eliminated, leaving ten to become their inner disciples. From those ten, one exceptionally outstanding individual would be chosen as a direct disciple.

This was the selection system for inner disciples.

These ten direct disciples would then compete against the elders’ previously accepted direct disciples. The ultimate victor, the strongest remaining, would undoubtedly become the successor to an elder’s position—such was the rule of the Demonic Cult.

Therefore, being accepted as a direct disciple by an elder marked the first step on the path to success. Many eyed this position covetously, making the competition exceptionally fierce and full of cunning tactics.

The grand competition comprised three rounds, spread over two days. The first day was for selecting the ten inner disciples.

On the second day, these ten disciples would engage in one-on-one battles, with the final victor becoming the elder’s direct disciple.

And it didn’t end there; the ten direct disciples from the ten elders would then compete once more to determine a champion, who would be personally received by the Sect Master and bestowed a special reward.

This reward might be a suitable weapon, a martial arts manual, or a medicinal pill to aid internal energy cultivation, depending on the Sect Master’s mood.

But no matter what it was, any of these prizes was enough to make these half-grown children fight tooth and nail.

This was the first day of the grand competition, and also the most brutal day of competition.

To save time, the elder responsible for instructing Shui Jingxuan simply sent all fifty apprentices onto the cult’s massive martial arts stage for a free-for-all. The ten individuals remaining on the stage at the end would become his inner disciples.

The other elders, seeing this method as highly efficient and time-saving, followed suit. However, there was only one martial arts stage, which couldn’t accommodate so many people at once.

Thus, they had to take turns, with groups of fifty. When the first group went up for the melee, four or five hundred people gathered below to watch, making the scene incredibly lively and the pressure even greater.

Shui Jingxuan stood beside Azhuang, his back perfectly straight, his face expressionless.

He had only been standing there for a short while when he already felt many unfriendly gazes directed his way.

First eliminate the weak, then team up to eliminate the strong, and finally, turn on each other—everyone had tacitly agreed upon this battle plan. Unfortunately, the slender, small Shui Jingxuan became their initial target.

Azhuang also sensed the tense atmosphere. He frowned deeply, leaned down, and whispered to Shui Jingxuan, “Don’t be afraid! Don’t leave my side later; I’ll protect you.”

Still thinking of taking care of him at a time like this, Shui Jingxuan couldn’t help but be touched by Azhuang’s sincerity. He secretly mused, ‘Since this child is so devoted to me, I’ll protect him a little later!’

Thus, because of a single admonition, Azhuang, who was originally destined for elimination, fortuitously became an inner disciple—but that is a story for later.