Feng Jiu’er had said she had a weapon — and she truly did. But Qiao Mu could never in a thousand years have guessed that her weapon would be silver needles.

Silver needles, fine as strands of hair, cut through the air. The faint whisper of sound they made was almost too slight to notice.

The moment Qiao Mu caught the faintest hint of that sharp, thin sound, she twisted aside to dodge — but she had not expected there to be so many needles flying toward her at once.

Jiu’er had truly given everything she had this time. The needles in her needle pouch were nearly all spent.

Qiao Mu’s lightness technique was exceptional, but in facing her now, she had been far too proud, her guard completely down.

Moreover, the long spear she held was clearly very heavy. Carrying a weapon like that, her footwork would inevitably slow — unless she threw the spear away.

But Qiao Mu was the chieftain of this stronghold. With all her brothers watching, how could she possibly discard her own weapon?

Something that shameful was out of the question for someone of her temperament.

And so — one of Feng Jiu’er’s silver needles actually grazed right across Qiao Mu’s cheek.

A faint sting, barely noticeable — but a graze was a graze. A faint line of blood had been left upon her face.

“You’ve lost.”

Feng Jiu’er fixed her eyes on Qiao Mu and said it plainly.

The crowd was stunned. Those standing in the front rows had already seen that faint line of blood on Qiao Mu’s face.

Not deep, not wide — it had truly done no more than skim across the surface of the skin, opening only the slightest of cuts.

A mark so minor that even without medicine, it would heal completely in two or three days without leaving a trace.

But a wound was a wound. Whether serious or slight, it was still a wound.

After a moment of bewilderment, Xiao Yingtao from the front ranks of the Longqi New Army suddenly cried out, “Jiu’er won! No — General Feng won!”

The others snapped back at once, faces lighting up, and immediately raised their voices: “General Feng is mighty! General Feng is mighty!”

The people of Qingfeng Stronghold were left utterly dumbfounded, unable to process what had just happened.

How was this possible? Their wise and valiant chieftain — how could she possibly have lost to a frail little slip of a girl?

Impossible!

Among the brothers of Qingfeng Stronghold standing in the front rows, someone finally shouted in fury: “Attacking with hidden weapons — what kind of hero does that make you! We refuse to accept this!”

Never mind that the chieftain had only had the skin of her face barely grazed — it hadn’t even affected her fighting ability. Could this truly be called an injury? It was just a drop of blood!

And even if it counted as a wound, the other side had struck from concealment — that wasn’t fair!

“Exactly — using hidden weapons! This match doesn’t count!” another voice rang out.

Xiao Yingtao jumped down from her horse, glared straight at the one who had spoken, and called out loudly, “That is our General’s weapon!”

“Before the General made her move, did she not extend her hand and show your chieftain her weapon? Your chieftain chose not to look — that was her own decision!”

“Before the match began, did anyone say hidden weapons were forbidden? That only large weapons were allowed? I certainly didn’t hear any such rule!”

“Exactly,” Huo Yan chimed in as well. “If your skill falls short, what more is there to say?”

Qiao Mu still said nothing. She had genuinely been wounded — yet being struck by a hidden weapon still did not sit right with her.

And yet — it was she herself who had agreed to Feng Jiu’er’s terms: whoever sustained an injury first would lose.

She had simply never imagined that such a trivial mark could count as an injury. To her, it was barely worth mentioning — only a bit of skin broken. It didn’t affect her fighting ability in the least.