The atmosphere on the dueling platform was somewhat eerie. Despite being at a complete disadvantage in every aspect, Little Jiang, with her sunglasses on and an emotionless demeanor, somehow exuded an overwhelming presence.
She hadn’t even drawn her sword (she’d forgotten).
Meanwhile, Princess Yuyang was already drenched in sweat.
Suddenly, it felt as though everything was under the control of Li Mo and Ying Bing—Jiang Chulong couldn’t even be bothered to unsheathe her sword, as if she didn’t consider her opponent a threat at all.
Right.
Why would Jiang Chulong dare to return to the imperial capital and openly appear before the Eldest Prince?
Did she not fear even the Crown Prince himself?
"Chulong, just use the sword techniques that master taught you," Li Mo suddenly called from below the stage.
Master?!
A cold sweat broke out on Princess Yuyang’s forehead. Just what kind of existence could be referred to as a "master" by even the "Divine Hammer Little Tyrant"?
Drip—
A bead of sweat fell to the ground, shattering into glistening fragments.
That drop broke the tension, snapping Princess Yuyang’s frayed nerves. She decided to strike first—no matter what tricks her opponent had, they wouldn’t get the chance to use them...
With a resonant hum of steel, her figure darted forward like a startled swan, her swordplay flowing like a dragon coursing downstream.
The dragon moved with the ebb and flow of the tide, yet maintained its own rhythm.
She transformed formless water into tangible substance—a single strike carrying the momentum of a dragon plunging into a river, unending and relentless.
Could Jiang Chulong block it?
Little Li, who also served as the Heavenly Venerable’s teacher, kept a straight face, though inwardly, he was sweating bullets.
This wasn’t like the Sword Trial Tournament in Hengyun Sword City anymore—this wasn’t a measured exchange of martial techniques. With this oppressive sword style, amplified by her cultivation realm, the pressure was immense.
There was no denying it—Princess Yuyang’s swordsmanship was exceptional, having mastered this supreme technique to perfection.
The good news was, the "Fighting King’s Secret Art" had worked.
The flawlessly flowing dragon-like sword intent, due to her hasty strike, had one discordant flaw!
"Not as good as those real dragons..."
Little Jiang’s eyes gleamed faintly.
She had spotted the inconsistency in her opponent’s dragon-like swordplay at first glance—after all, she had seen real dragons.
And fought them.
Without this flaw, she might have had to endure a grueling battle, slowly forcing her opponent to reveal weaknesses.
But now, breaking this sword technique had become much simpler.
The Green Leaf Sword silently left its sheath, releasing an unremarkable, faint glimmer of sword light.
The crowd was stunned.
Such a feeble sword energy, and she was still launching a counterattack? Wasn’t this like a mayfly trying to shake a tree or a mantis trying to stop a chariot?
The nobles in the VIP section thought the same—the Fourth Prince even smirked.
Someone had just informed him that the Divine Hammer Little Tyrant had placed a heavy bet on Jiang Chulong’s victory. Wasn’t this just free money?
Only Jiang Yu’s expression froze, his dual-pupiled eyes flashing with shock and disbelief.
The faint sword light persisted within the dragon’s sword intent—still weak, yet impossible to ignore.
Like a blade of grass with roots dug deep, no wind from any direction, no surging river, could shake it. It was merely waiting for its chance—to see the sunlight and grow wildly...
Then, a surge of overwhelming sword energy erupted, its terrifying edge soaring violently.
With a flip of the Green Leaf, it severed the dragon and split the heavens.
Snap—
A crisp sound later, the terrifying sword light vanished as quickly as it appeared, as if everything had been an illusion.
Jiang Chulong and Jiang Yuyang passed each other—one sheathing her sword calmly, the other frozen in place.
The arena fell silent for a moment.
Those with lower cultivation stood dumbfounded, unsure of what had just happened.
Those with higher realms and knowledge of the sword gasped in shock, their eyes wide with disbelief.
"Did she win or lose?" Xiao Qin silently asked his teacher.
"This girl has forged her own path in the sword—a brand-new sword dao..." murmured the Thousand Forms Martial Venerable, who had been feigning death since entering the inner city.
Clang—
Half of a broken sword fell to the ground—the severed remains of the top-tier weapon once held by Princess Yuyang. The cut was smooth as a mirror, alongside a few strands of hair.
"Did I win?"
Jiang Chulong adjusted her sunglasses, quietly exhaling in relief.
Then she hurried off the stage.
To others, it seemed like she had delivered a single strike, then walked away with the detached grace of a true master...
In reality, Little Jiang was so nervous under everyone’s gaze that she immediately rushed to Li Mo’s side, clutching his sleeve.
"Big Brother Li, I won a lot of rice."
"Yeah, not bad..." Li Mo nodded blankly.
"What kind of sword technique was that just now?" Ying Bing asked.
He didn’t recall Jiang Chulong ever comprehending such a technique in her past life.
Li Mo was also baffled—he hadn’t taught her that.
Why not? Because he didn’t know it either!
"The Heavenly Venerable teacher showed me... um... some scenes. I memorized them after seeing them once. That sword was pretty hard—I spent a long time figuring it out."
"A single blade of grass severing the sun, moon, and stars?"
"Yeah. Big Brother Li, you’ve seen it too?"
"......"
Little Li sucked in a sharp breath.
That was something he’d made up to motivate her to practice the sword!
Wait... you actually comprehended it?!
"I just barely grasped it, so I didn’t dare show it to the teacher yet."
Jiang Chulong hung her head shyly.
She felt it wasn’t polished enough—showing off to the Heavenly Venerable would be embarrassing.
"......"
Li Mo felt as though he’d been stabbed through the heart.
At least the small fortune they’d just won soothed his wounded soul a little.
"Big Brother Li, how much rice did we win?"
......
"Three golden mountains, five hundred mystic crystals—at an eight-to-one payout."
"I lost twenty-four golden mountains and four thousand mystic crystals?"
The Fourth Prince’s face turned deathly pale, his teacup trembling in his grip, spilling tea all over his lap. His body seemed to have lost all strength.
The other nobles paid him no mind, their gazes shifting meaningfully toward the Great Yu Crown Prince.
That day, Jiang Yu had entered the cold palace.
When he emerged, he was covered in blood, clutching a struggling sword-shaped bone in his hand. Soon after, a sedan chair was carried out.
No one heard crying—only faint, delirious murmurs from within:
"Mother... I want to eat hot rice..."
"It hurts... it really, really hurts..."
The sedan chair was carried beyond the palace walls. They thought they would never see that ghostly little girl again—the one who had grown up in the dark crevices of the deep palace.
Yet she had returned. Without that bone, she hadn’t died—instead, she had miraculously grown even stronger.
And what of Jiang Yu, who had stolen the sword bone?
for mindless slaughter, this isn't for you.] My name is Ye Shu, and I'm a transmigrator. It seems I'm supposed to be the protagonist, but that feels pretty unlikely. This world has been invaded by a system. The antagonists on the other side have suddenly become pure, flawless saints. The female leads have been force-fed the so-called "original plot," making them think they've been reborn. Now, everyone thinks I'm scum. Including the old lady in my ring. And here I am, in the Monster Beast Mountain Range, braising pork. To put my situation in perspective— It's as if, the moment Xiao Yan stepped into the Monster Beast Mountain Range, the Soul Emperor already knew he would become the Flame Emperor, and Yao Lao had been turned to the enemy's side. I have nothing right now. Oh wait, that's not true. I do have a white-haired loli child-bride who's the Heavenly Dao, and her only skill is acting cute. So, tell me guys... what are my chances of making it to the end?
d intelligence to keep the plot moving, and sometimes even the protagonists are forced into absurdly dumb decisions. Why does the A-list celebrity heroine in urban romance novels ditch the top-tier movie star and become a lovestruck fool for a pockmarked male lead? Why do the leads in historical tragedy novels keep dancing between love and death, only for the blind healer to end up suffering the most? And Gu Wei never expected that after finally landing a villain role to stir up trouble, she’d pick the wrong gender! No choice now—she’ll just have to crush the protagonists as a girl!
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
