Lin Jiang's intention was roughly understood.
Since he couldn't win anyway,
He might as well concede outright.
Strangely logical.
Li Mo was momentarily speechless, at a loss for how to refute, and could only respond with a mix of amusement and exasperation:
"My thanks for your mercy."
"Many thanks, Brother Li, for going easy on me."
Lin Jiang let out a relieved sigh.
And so,
Jade Cluster Peak claimed its first victory.
The match was supposed to showcase skill and foster camaraderie, but to the spectators, it seemed like nothing but camaraderie.
Among the inner disciples, murmurs arose:
"There's definitely something fishy going on here!"
"I know Lin Jiang—he’s the type to fight even against a late-stage ninth-rank demon beast during sect trials."
"Something’s off. Nine out of ten, no, ten out of ten—something’s not right."
Amid the buzzing discussions of the inner disciples from Divine Arms Peak,
Wang Hao’s gaze turned icy as he watched the young man descend leisurely from the stage.
Ever since Wang Hu joined Ruyi Peak, he had never reappeared.
And because of his familial ties to Wang Hu, Wang Hao himself had been interrogated for three days by Ruyi Peak’s law-enforcement disciples.
It was only then that Wang Hao learned the truth—
Wang Hu had been linked to the Demon Summoning Cult, a group strictly forbidden by the Great Yu Dynasty. Any sect discovering its members was to execute them on sight.
"Senior Brother Wang, it’s your turn," a fellow disciple reminded him.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Wang Hao stepped onto the stage.
His opponent was a core disciple at the Jade Marrow stage of Inner Breath cultivation.
Though Wang Hao’s displayed cultivation was also at the Jade Marrow stage, he was far older and his martial foundation far more solid.
The battle raged fiercely, neither side yielding, until Wang Hao emerged victorious.
Yet, instead of retracting his aura, his sharp eyes swept over Li Mo like blades,
His hostility and challenge unmistakable.
Seeing Wang Hao’s demeanor, Li Mo actually felt relieved.
At least he wouldn’t have to worry about lacking opponents.
If every match ended with his opponent jumping off the stage to concede, this Nine Peaks Tournament would be utterly pointless.
Of course,
Surely he wouldn’t face conceding opponents in every match, right?
Thanks to the infamous Murphy’s Law,
The more you dread something happening, the more likely it becomes.
Next match.
On the stage, two familiar faces stood in silence.
"Brother Li."
Murong Xiao smiled sheepishly at him.
Li Mo: "......"
He shot a suspicious glance at Elder Qian, who was in charge of the draw.
Elder Qian took a subtle breath, equally puzzled. How had he managed to draw another of this kid’s acquaintances?
Murong Xiao was also a rising star in the Qingyuan Sect.
Though only at the Blood Qi stage, his half-demon physique and refined body-tempering techniques had already allowed him to defeat several higher-ranked opponents.
By all accounts, he was stronger than Lin Jiang.
With a bit of luck, he could even make it to the top sixteen.
On the elevated platform,
"Murong Xiao, the Prodigy of Purple Sun Prefecture."
"Surely he’ll give this match his all?"
A white-robed young master watched Murong Xiao with both admiration and competitive fire.
As the current top disciple of Blazing Jade Forest, he too bore a half-demon heritage.
The title of "Prodigy of Purple Sun Prefecture"?
It should rightfully be his!
Over at the Crimson Whale Gang, the Blood-Robed Young Master remained silent, though his eyes had narrowed.
Like Ying Bing, he couldn’t gauge the depths of that youth’s strength.
"Han He, what do you think?" Qian Bufan’s question drew the attention of the other elders toward the Divine Arms Peak elder.
As everyone knew,
Elder Han He was rigid, stubborn, and above any form of match-fixing.
So this duel had to be fair.
Yet, to their surprise, Han He shook his head.
"Murong Xiao is no match for Li Mo."
His admission was blunt.
The elders were stunned.
As Murong Xiao’s master, Han He surely knew his disciple’s capabilities. Yet he didn’t hesitate to declare his defeat?
That could only mean one thing—
Li Mo possessed strength even Han He acknowledged.
"Seems my grand-disciple might just surprise us all," Xue Jing chuckled, turning his gaze to the arena.
However,
Elder Qian’s voice soon rang out:
"Murong Xiao concedes."
"Li Mo, victorious!"
This time, the elders didn’t comment, their expressions thoughtful.
But the spectators—both Qingyuan disciples and outsiders—were baffled.
A wave of exclamations erupted:
"Huh? Murong Xiao conceded too?"
"Did you hear how he kept calling him ‘Brother Li’? Must be letting him win out of friendship."
"Aren’t the elders going to intervene?"
"Rumor has it Li Mo’s connections run deep, but this is ridiculous—using social clout to reach the top 32?"
"If there’s match-fixing, Elder Qian would know. Bet he’s got money on this."
Amid the growing skepticism,
Li Mo took a deep breath. "Brother Murong, you—"
"Brother Li, you’ve broken through again, haven’t you? I’m afraid you might not hold back."
Murong Xiao shuddered, recalling Li Mo’s display in the training hall.
He’d thought an earthquake had struck.
"At least give me a few moves for appearances’ sake," Li Mo sighed.
"But... I still want to aim for the top 16..." Murong Xiao muttered, aggrieved.
That massive Whale Breath Coral Stone had been discolored from a single punch—
Li Mo hadn’t even used a martial technique. Just a casual strike packed the force of a Jade Marrow expert, and the residual killing intent alone made Murong Xiao’s scalp tingle.
Now that he’d broken through? No chance.
Li Mo didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Three matches in, top 32, without lifting a finger.
Call it networking? Not exactly.
Where was the justice in this?
......
The morning matches concluded with Elder Qian’s announcement of a break.
Two more rounds followed,
Whittling the top 32 down to the final eight.
Those who emerged were exceptional—each with unique strengths, showcasing abilities that made this year’s tournament the most competitive in memory.
Among them were veterans like Wang Hao, whose age barely met the cutoff but whose combat experience was vast.
There were also prodigies like Murong Xiao.
And then there was Ying Bing—
Dominating every match with absolute superiority, ending fights in moments.
Though... someone had been even faster.
Namely, a certain "socially gifted" Jade Cluster Peak core disciple who hadn’t thrown a single punch yet...
Regardless, the afternoon promised thrilling clashes.
......
Qingyuan Main Peak, dining hall.
Li Mo, Murong Xiao, Xiao Qin, and Lin Jiang sat together at a table.
Watching the three shovel food into their mouths, Li Mo sighed.
"Now the whole sect says I’m coasting on connections."
"Some even accuse me of match-fixing."
"Any ideas why?"
A full morning of competition, zero fights.
All this pent-up energy with nowhere to go—it was frustrating.
"Brother Li, if I’d fought you, I might not have advanced," Murong Xiao said awkwardly.
Lin Jiang nodded emphatically, as if he’d narrowly escaped disaster.
"Brother Li, the Hundred Flowers Dew Ointment probably can't bring the dead back to life..."
Li Mo's lips twitched slightly before he turned to the side:
"Old Xiao, what about you? You're at the Inner Breath Realm—you should at least humor me with a spar, right?"
"Huh?"
Xiao Qin, his eye bruised and his nose stuffed with blood-soaked paper, looked dazed.
He pointed at himself with a bandaged hand:
"Me?"
Old Xiao had terrible luck.
He had run into another true disciple at the Jade Liquid Realm of Inner Breath and engaged in a real man's 1v1 duel. By the end, both were wounded.
He barely scraped out a hard-fought victory, but his right hand was temporarily out of commission from the injuries.
And then—
In the next round, he ran into Li Mo.
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
and couldn't return to the real world. Finally, I gave up and decided to go with the flow, only to discover that writing a diary could make me stronger. Since no one could read it, Su Luo wrote freely, daring to pen anything and everything. Female Lead #1: "Not bad. This diary helped me steal all the protagonist's opportunities. I just want to get stronger." Female Lead #2: "I don’t care about reaching the peak of the cultivation world. Right now, I just want to enjoy the chaos." Female Lead #3: "What? Everyone around me is a spy? I’m the Joker Demon Lord?" ... It’s so strange. Why is the plot completely off track, yet the ending remains the same? Are you all just messing with me?!
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
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.
