On the dueling platform.
The wind howled fiercely, carrying a few scattered blades of grass between the two swordsmen.
A scene of autumn desolation (wait, hasn't summer even begun yet?), the perfect setting for a clash of peerless swordsmen.
"The wind today is quite boisterous," Wu Chushu remarked wistfully, his robes fluttering as he cradled his longsword.
"A fine day for a duel," Xie Xuan replied, his sword held inverted, a straw hat shading his face, a blade of grass dangling from his lips. His expression was one of mild exasperation.
Wu Chushu sighed deeply, narrowing his eyes. "It is long said that the Heavenly Mountain Sword Manor is the sacred ground of sword arts. But that title once belonged to my Cloud-Crossing Sword City. Today, I duel you not to prove my superiority, but to reclaim for the world what my city has lost—with my own hands."
With that, he shifted into an impressively poised sword stance.
"After you!"
"Uh... no, after you," Xie Xuan replied, vaguely recalling that he'd seen this pose somewhere recently.
"Please, you first!" Wu Chushu adjusted his stance again."...You really don’t need to keep posing," Xie Xuan muttered, flicking the grass from his mouth and gesturing around them. "No matter how well you imitate Li Mo, look—do you see anyone watching us?"
"Anyone watching~ anyone~ anyone..."
The words echoed into empty silence. Wu Chushu blinked, turning to find the surroundings utterly deserted.
Earlier, he had watched Li Mo wield his divine sword, commanding a sky full of blades, and the sight had sent shivers down his spine, his mind trembling in awe. He had practiced the stance diligently, perfecting every detail.
Now, the pose was flawless, the wind was dramatic, the atmosphere just right.
And yet—no audience?
"How could this be?" Wu Chushu felt as though struck by lightning.
"Is Li Mo and Ying Bing’s duel not worth watching? Why would anyone come see you and me?" Xie Xuan unsheathed his sword impatiently. "Let’s just get this over with. I’d like to go watch them too. If you keep saying 'after you,' I swear I’ll stab you."
"......"
Wu Chushu wept internally.
If there is a Li Mo, why must there be a Chushu?
......
Meanwhile, at the opposite dueling platform, the scene was a world apart. A sea of spectators buzzed with excitement, countless eyes fixed on the two figures atop the stage.
The world’s attention was undeniably theirs.
The young man stood tall and graceful, the faint down on his lips now gone, his features bright and handsome—a face so gentle it radiated kindness, the very image of an upright gentleman.
And under the hues of twilight, Ying Bing’s delicate features carried an innate grace, her face caught between light and shadow, cold yet soft, exuding an almost divine aura.
To describe her, one might say she resembled a celestial maiden from legends, one who had strayed into the mortal realm and fallen for a mortal.
The two stood on the platform, poised for battle, yet there was no tension between them—only an uncanny harmony.
"Get together, get together!"
"I suggest a kiss first!"
"Be serious, this is a duel! This year’s Dragon Ranking champion might very well be decided between them."
Amid the clamoring crowd of commoners and martial artists, many had already been swayed by Shang Qinqing into becoming fervent shippers—particularly the unmarried young ladies of the capital.
But most were more concerned with who would claim the top spot in this year’s Dragon Ranking.
Between these two, who would emerge victorious?
Shang Qinqing pondered for a moment before shouting:
"Exactly! This will determine their future household hierarchy!"
"So whether you’re a champion fan, a Bing fan, or a shipping fan, it’s all the same in the end. Why bother drawing lines?"
"Fair point."
"Is that so?"
Many faces shifted from confusion to dawning realization.
"Let’s begin." Li Mo wore a serious expression, appearing fully prepared.
...Or so it seemed.
In truth, his qi, spirit, and body were all utterly drained.
This wasn’t something meditation could fix—anyone else would need ten days to half a month to recover. Even he would require two or three.
And he had just broken through to a new realm.
This wasn’t like a game, where leveling up restored all stats. On the contrary, he needed to stabilize his newfound strength.
So his plan remained...
"Mm."
Ying Bing gave a slight nod and raised her Taibai Sword.
But before the blade arrived, a serene, silvery moonlight washed over him.
"You rely too much on that golden-armored divine intent. Your lunar spirit, despite its realm, has yet to uncover its true potential."
Her voice, clear as jade striking jade, accompanied the sword’s descent.
Li Mo instinctively raised his Heaven’s Blade to meet it.
Upon impact, a cool, soothing energy flowed into him through the hilt.
"Ice Block..."
"Don’t space out," Ying Bing murmured, her gaze lowered toward him.
Those with keen enough perception to grasp what was happening couldn’t help but lean back in astonishment.
What duel?!
The Frost Fairy was clearly using the match as a pretext—to help him stabilize his realm and nurture his spirit!
"Though things aren’t playing out as I imagined..." Shang Qinqing suppressed the urge to roll on the ground in glee, her eyes sparkling.
"...I remain undefeated."
"But they still have to decide a winner, right? How will they settle this?"
"Wake up, friend. They’ve both won. Guess who lost?"
"Ah... me?"
"Seriously? They lured us here just to slaughter us? I was about to go home for dinner!"
The crowd, initially buzzing with anticipation, erupted into chaos as they witnessed the two swords entwined, their energies cycling in harmony.
A high-stakes Dragon Ranking showdown—if they didn’t want to fight, why even take the stage?
What was the point of attacking the audience?
In an instant, every face in the crowd morphed into various renditions of Piggy Hero.jpg.
Just then, someone shouted:
"Little Tyr—er, I mean, the Wife-Blessing Battle Spirit is about to lose!"
The crowd swiveled their attention.
Was it because of his earlier battles that he could no longer hold on?
Li Mo was forced back by a single strike, teetering at the platform’s edge, on the verge of falling.
Indeed, Li Mo was sticking to the original plan.
Frankly speaking, by the tournament’s rules, he should have lost this round to Ice Block anyway.
Luck was part of strength, and he had been drained beforehand—nothing to be done about that.
Ying Bing, the Phoenix Heavenly Empress, bearer of the Crimson Destiny.
Wasn’t it only right for her to claim the Dragon Ranking’s crown?
Should I look at the black or the white one first tonight...
As he toppled backward, Li Mo gazed at the rose-gold twilight and found himself inexplicably pondering.
Wait—why choose?
Couldn’t he have one of each?
Hiss... Why was he getting so worked up? Li Mo felt an itch in his nose, a warmth rising.
Look, I’m even bleeding from the fight.
Who could say this duel wasn’t intense?
Plop.
"Li Mo has fallen outside the platform. Ying Bing is the—huh?"
The purple-robed eunuch announcing the results froze mid-sentence, his eyes widening as if he’d seen a ghost.
Even he hadn’t noticed what had just happened.
"Hm?"
Feeling an astonishing softness and bounce cushioning the back of his head, Young Li looked up in bewilderment.
There, under the mingled glow of sun and moon, was a face of serene, peerless beauty—cool and detached in expression, yet with eyes rippling with quiet amusement.
"I stepped down first. I lose."
Her lips declared defeat.
But Li Mo couldn't shake the feeling that the ice block—Ying Bing—looked like a smug, aloof cat who'd gotten exactly what it wanted.
Young Li knew he'd won, yet somehow it also felt like a loss.
So...
Li Mo couldn't figure out whether he'd truly won or not. Ying Bing claimed defeat with words, but—
The audience? Oh, the audience was worse off. They'd never been force-fed so many lemons in their lives, utterly defeated and begging for mercy.
So who actually won?
"HAHAHAHAHA!!"
Shang Qinqing threw her head back and laughed, triumphant and intoxicated by her own satisfaction.
...