Inside the Carefree Pavilion, Fan Yue opened his eyes from deep meditation, a frown forming on his face.
At the gates of Phoenix Island, the power of the lightning dissipated, revealing the figure of a young man standing before Fu Ling. Flowing patterns resembling streams rippled along the cuffs of his sleeves, marking him as a disciple of the Celestial Clan.
Fu Ling looked up in stunned silence, recognizing the person shielding her. She murmured, “Chong Zhao…” Her voice was so soft that only he could hear it.
Chong Zhao spat out a mouthful of blood, his face pale as his body swayed unsteadily.
“Junior Brother!”
Before Fu Ling could reach out to support him, Er Yun broke from the crowd, pushing her aside to catch the faltering Chong Zhao.
Fu Ling’s hand paused mid-air, then clenched tightly, hidden within her sleeve.
“It’s Chong Zhao of Miao Sect!”
“The winner of the Wu Yan Tournament? How could it be him?”
“Why would he save a demon?”
Since returning to Phoenix Island, Chong Zhao had been quietly recuperating from his injuries at the Pine and Crane Courtyard. Only a few who had accompanied him in the foreign city knew him, so few recognized him now.
Tian Yu, watching this scene, seemed unsurprised, a strange smile tugging at his lips.
The celestial disciples whispered among themselves. The sect leaders, however, remained calm, though curiosity was evident in their thoughts. Fu Ling was Jin Yao’s daughter, and rumor had it that Jin Yao intended to personally invite Chong Zhao into the Celestial Palace to impart spiritual wisdom. His actions to save Fu Ling might be a display of gratitude toward Jin Yao for his favor.
Among the sect leaders, only Yun Xiao Sect Master Xi Yun looked displeased. The young disciple beside him, Nan Wan, seemed about to speak but was stopped by Xi Yun.
“No need to rush. Let’s watch and see how this unfolds.”
“Yes, Master.”
“That kid must be crazy! He’s a celestial; what’s he doing saving Fu Ling?” Mu Jiu’s fox-like eyes widened as he put his hands on his hips, baffled.
“He was already Jin Yao’s chosen candidate. There’s no need to stir up resentment by acting out.”
“Then why did he do it? The damsel in distress? Overcome by love? Bah, ridiculous! Our Little Hua is far more beautiful than that troublesome flower!”
With a thump, the chatty fox was kicked off to the side.
Hua Hong frowned at Chong Zhao. She had clearly seen him protect Bai Shuo back in the foreign city. For him to now step in and save Fu Ling—what was his reason?
In the distance, Jin Yao’s expression softened as he saw that Fu Ling’s life was spared, looking at Chong Zhao with an increasingly gentle gaze.
Yu Feng and the others let out a sigh of relief as Jing Lei awkwardly landed on the ground, but before he could speak, Tian Yu’s voice rang out.
“The time of one incense stick has passed. Cold Spring Palace has lost this match.”
“Palace Master!” Fu Ling’s face changed.
“A loss is a loss. What is a mere hundred years? You’ve already waited a thousand. As long as you remember your purpose, what difference does a hundred years make?” Tian Yu said calmly.
“Yes.” Fu Ling glanced at Chong Zhao but did not argue further, falling silent.
“Unexpectedly, the Celestial Clan has produced such a young hero. He’s only at the initial Supreme Lord stage, yet he could withstand Supreme Celestial Jing Lei’s Heaven’s Thunder. Young man, to which celestial sect do you belong?” Tian Yu looked at Chong Zhao with a smile.
“Miao Sect’s Chong Zhao.” Though Tian Yu’s words were full of praise, Chong Zhao’s expression remained distant toward the demon demigod. Instead, he turned toward Jing Lei with an apology. “I apologize for my recklessness, Supreme Celestial. I’ve disrupted your match; please forgive me.”
Jing Lei, seeing Chong Zhao’s composure, gave a slight nod. “Since this was a match, lives should not have been endangered. That was my error.”
Though it was Fu Ling’s fierce struggle that forced Jing Lei to retaliate, with these words, he took the blame upon himself—a trait befitting a Supreme Celestial of the Celestial Palace for a thousand years.
Tian Yu, a prominent demon demigod, showed no annoyance at being ignored by the young celestial, merely raising his brow with amusement.
“Chong Zhao.”
At this, Jin Yao spoke, and Chong Zhao hurriedly turned to bow. “Greetings, Celestial Lord Jin Yao.”
“Come here.”
Chong Zhao paused but did not hesitate, stepping forward to stand respectfully before Jin Yao.
“Celestial Lord.”
With a wave of Jin Yao’s hand, a surge of divine power enveloped Chong Zhao, instantly bringing a healthy color back to his pale face.
“You’ve injured your spiritual core. Forcing divine power to repair it would only damage your foundation. This power will help calm your spirit and protect your heart.”
“Thank you, Celestial Lord,” Chong Zhao replied, visibly moved.
A youth who had devoted himself to the celestial path, he could not help but feel elated at receiving Jin Yao’s guidance.
“So this is the winner of the Wu Yan Tournament—the rare celestial prodigy of a thousand years. Celestial Lord Jin Yao, your eye for talent is unparalleled.” Tian Yu said with a smile, then turned to Jin Yao. “Celestial Lord Jin Yao, my palace’s Second Master is also injured and must return to the demon realm to heal. I would prefer not to linger on Phoenix Island. Shall we advance tomorrow’s grand banquet to today?”
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