Xiang Heng was truly challenging him to a duel, not just posturing, but Jing Wen had no desire to fight him—winning would bring no glory.

Jing Wen coldly transmitted: “I understand that I’ve damaged your prestige, and you want to reestablish yourself before the citizens of Yin Sha. But City Lord Xiang, enough is enough, don’t go too far.”

Xiang Heng hadn’t considered all that; he was purely seeking justice for his daughter.

The two had been communicating through mind transmission all along. Xiang Heng only wanted Jing Wen to apologize to his daughter in private—what was so difficult about that?

He didn’t think his request was excessive at all: “Senior, please!”

Jing Wen had come to demand an explanation, but now found himself in an awkward position. The killing intent in his sword suddenly flared again: “Even if I apologize to her, would she dare accept it?”

This was truly shameless! Xiang Heng’s stubborn temper flared up. Though his cultivation was inferior, he wasn’t completely defenseless. If he was willing to sacrifice himself, he could make Jing Wen pay!

Abandoning private communication, Xiang Heng openly shouted: “Xiao Kui, if the Senior apologizes to you, would you dare accept it?!”

The emotions of the city’s residents had gone through dramatic shifts in a short time.

Earlier, when Jing Wen invaded Xiang Heng’s consciousness, everyone had been on edge.

Later, seeing Jing Wen without his sword aura, conversing pleasantly with Xiang Heng, they assumed the “misunderstanding” had been resolved and breathed a collective sigh of relief.

But shortly after, Xiang Heng suddenly released waves of battle intent, looking ready to fight Jing Wen to the death, and their hearts once again leaped into their throats.

Xiang Haikui’s emotions mirrored those of the city’s residents, rising and falling dramatically. However, with the transmission blocked, she could only anxiously wait without asking questions.

Now, with her father’s question, she finally understood—he was seeking justice for her.

Covered in blood, her blue dress long since dyed red, Xiang Haikui had maintained her composure. But her father’s single question brought redness to her eyes, and she had to inhale deeply to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

The city residents’ concern was now mixed with pride.

“Xiao Kui!” Xiang Tianqing urgently transmitted to Xiang Haikui. Having witnessed Jing Wen’s abilities earlier—her precious sword had been rolled up like paper—his power had truly frightened her. “Father is no match for Jing Wen, he’ll get hurt. Quickly yield to Jing Wen, give them both a way out!”

Xiang Haikui was still immersed in emotion, her reaction slightly delayed.

Jing Wen spoke first: “I will take you as my disciple and teach you the way of the sword as compensation. How’s that?”

Having been insulted by her earlier, Jing Wen knew that father and daughter shared the same stubborn nature and would likely make him lose even more face.

Since things had reached this point, he might as well take the opportunity to announce his intention to take her as a disciple, believing this would calm the situation and make everyone happy.

When Jing Wen dropped this bombshell about taking a disciple, gasps were heard everywhere; even Xiang Heng was quite surprised.

Xiang Tianqing’s feelings were complex. On one hand, she felt Xiang Haikui had truly brought honor to their father, even earning recognition from the Sword Venerable.

On the other hand, she secretly harbored some expectation—if she became Jing Wen’s disciple, she would leave for the royal capital, leaving Yin Sha and their father behind.

Unexpectedly, once Xiang Haikui regained her composure, she flatly refused: “I appreciate Senior’s kindness, but I must decline.”

Jing Wen thought she was just being petulant and asked persuasively: “Why?”

Xiang Haikui was a bit unsteady on her feet, using Tian Kuang as a crutch, and looked up: “This junior already has a master.”

Jing Wen: “A sword master?”

Xiang Haikui: “Yes.”

Jing Wen examined her bone age again, confirming she was indeed in her early twenties: “How long has your master taught you?”

Xiang Haikui answered truthfully: “Eighty days.”

“How can someone who taught you for merely eighty days be considered a master?” Jing Wen stood on the city wall, looking down at her with a slight curve of his lips. “But your loyalty to your teacher is commendable.”

How could eighty days not count as being her master? Xiang Haikui thought this was ridiculous. Her master’s eighty days of teaching had been packed with invaluable knowledge, enough to benefit her for a lifetime.

Xiang Haikui wanted to retort, but with her father present, she had to maintain his dignity: “Thank you for your kindness, but it’s truly unnecessary. My master has a fierce temper. If he learned I joined another school, he would surely be furious. Furthermore…”

“Oh?” Jing Wen still thought she was angry.

Never mind, better not say more, Xiang Haikui shook her head.

Jing Wen said, “Feel free to speak.”

Xiang Haikui, already struggling to hold back under Tian Kuang’s instigation, found it impossible to continue restraining herself under his persistent pressure.

She looked toward the crowd, her gaze fixing on the female sword attendant beside Jing Ran.

The female attendant’s face had grown extremely dark upon hearing that her Sword Venerable wanted to take a female disciple.

When Xiang Haikui looked her way, her disgust was still evident on her face, and she hurriedly lowered her head in confusion.

In her mind, no one would ever refuse to become the Sword Venerable’s disciple.

Once someone became his disciple, they would also become her “young lady.” The clear master-servant distinction in the Sword Pavilion meant her days would become difficult.

Xiang Haikui gestured toward her position and asked: “Senior Jing, how many years has she followed you?”

This question stumped Jing Wen.

The male sword attendant hurriedly stepped forward to answer: “Nearly two hundred years.”

Xiang Haikui: “After such a long time, you haven’t taken her as your disciple, yet you want to accept me. Is it because I’m stronger than her?”

This woman had glared at her numerous times; did she think she hadn’t noticed?

Arrogant master, arrogant servant.

Jing Wen nodded: “Of course.”

The female sword attendant bit her lip.

Xiang Haikui extended her left index finger and right pinky: “I also compare strengths when choosing a master, which is why I won’t betray my current one.”

After she spoke, the entire city fell silent, everyone internally speculating whether the Second Young Lady’s master might be one of the other two Sword Venerables.

Xiang Tianqing lowered her eyes, avoiding the crowd’s reactions.

From the moment Xiang Haikui had decisively cut down that little black snake, she knew that eventually everyone would consider Xiang Haikui more like their father’s daughter.

She just hadn’t expected this day to come so quickly, so forcefully.

“Sister Kui is really…” Lu Xiqiao gave a thumbs up, transmitting to Bai Xingxian.

If the Sword Venerable had offered to take him as a disciple, his miserly father would probably have declared a seven-day discount at their shop, celebrating throughout the realm.

Bai Xingxian frowned: “Little Sister Kui is telling the truth.”

Lu Xiqiao was surprised: “Then who is Sister Kui’s master? Is there truly such a figure in our entire world, not just the Central Plains?”

Jing Wen initially thought she was deliberately mocking him, but her gaze contained no ridicule; she was merely stating an ordinary fact.

Jing Wen furrowed his brow: “Is it one of those two?” referring to the two who shared his reputation.

“No,” Xiang Haikui replied rather proudly, “There are always greater individuals beyond our knowledge, Senior.”

Jing Wen knew there were many recluses in the world, and Xiang Haikui’s words had truly piqued his interest: “May I ask your master’s sect, name, and whereabouts?”

Xiang Haikui nearly blurted out “My master hasn’t been a big shot for many years,” but forcibly rephrased it: “My master has been in seclusion for many years, no longer concerning himself with worldly affairs.”

“You practice the heavy sword, a battle sword. A master in seclusion is not suitable for you,” Jing Wen transmitted. “Tell me his whereabouts, and I’ll challenge him and take you back, showing you who the true master is.”

Xiang Haikui:?

Is he crazy?

She suggested, “Senior, if you’re truly that idle, why not kill the Shen Yao outside the border?”

Jing Wen persisted: “Tell me.”

“My master is elusive, appearing and disappearing like a divine dragon. I don’t know where he is,” Xiang Haikui, discovering she could transmit again, immediately sent her voice into Dao Chen’s consciousness, “Senior? Are you alright?”

Yin Changli’s voice responded: “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

His voice sounded steady, though she wondered if he was just pretending to prevent her from worrying.

As Xiang Haikui pondered this, her ear consciousness was suddenly stimulated by a wave of sound.

It was Jing Wen, using qi to form a sword, writing the character “invitation” on the Yin Sha city wall with a wave of his hand, consuming spiritual power to use a great sound transmission technique, rolling his voice outward so that it could be heard clearly for hundreds of towns in all directions.

—”Today, Jing Wen, Supreme Elder of the Jin Ling Sword Academy, establishes a wager at Yin Sha City, challenging the sword master of Xiang Haikui, daughter of Yin Sha’s Great City Lord Xiang Heng. I ask everyone to spread this news. Jing Wen will wait for him at the royal capital, with a ten-year limit. If he doesn’t come, his disciple Xiang Haikui will belong to me.”

He looked at Xiang Haikui: “Ten years should be enough time for him to receive the news, right?”

Damn, Xiang Haikui was shocked.

What surprised her even more was that no one seemed to find this absurd; they even looked at her with envy, leaving her utterly dumbfounded.

Xiang Heng secretly transmitted to her: “Daughter, in this world, when two sword cultivators of similar realms duel, anything can be wagered.”

Disciples were considered possessions.

One could refuse the challenge, but would be mocked by other sword cultivators and nailed to the Pillar of Shame.

A real Pillar of Shame.

Besides Yin Sha, many cities in the Central Plains had Pillars of Shame, shaped like broken swords. Any renowned sword cultivator who lost a duel or refused to accept a challenge would have their name inscribed on the pillar.

Of course, the Pillar of Shame in the Jin Ling Great Square of the royal capital was the most “magnificent and grand.”

This was one reason why Xiang Heng had abandoned his original path as a sword cultivator and turned to other practices.

“That’s too perverse, isn’t it?” Xiang Haikui’s knowledge from dream exploration had been limited to Yin Sha; she genuinely hadn’t known about these customs.

“I initially thought it was perverse too,” Xiang Heng looked at her injuries again, his heart twisting in pain, “but to some extent, it restrains sword cultivators’ impulsive behavior.”

Before the Central Plains erected Pillars of Shame, sword cultivators would engage in life-and-death duels over the slightest disagreement, resulting in numerous deaths from internal conflicts each year.

Xiang Haikui: “But my master is imprisoned; he can’t possibly accept the challenge.”

What would they write on the Pillar of Shame?

—Xiang Haikui’s master?

“Xiang Heng, are you satisfied with my resolution?” While Jing Wen’s actions came from genuine intent, he felt he had already given Xiang Haikui considerable honor.

Soon, the entire world would know Xiang Haikui’s name.

They would know that he, the mighty Sword Venerable, was competing to take this woman as his disciple.

Xiang Heng’s battle intent indeed subsided, not because his daughter would soon be “world-famous.”

He had learned from Yin Changli that his daughter had an extraordinary master.

Though imprisoned, through his contact with Yin Changli, he sensed that this group of Mountain-Sea Tribe powerhouses was capable of anything.

Jing Wen’s name would likely soon appear on that tall and thick Pillar of Shame in the royal capital’s square.

How could he not feel vindicated?

“One more matter,” Before leaving, Jing Wen’s gaze fell on Xiang Tianqing as he transmitted to Xiang Heng, “I wish to take my disciple’s daughter with me. She has no blood relation to you, and in this world, I, as her grandmaster, have a closer connection to her.”

Xiang Heng immediately refused: “She is my daughter.”

“I hope you can ask for her opinion, but don’t tell her about the past grudges,” Jing Wen ultimately couldn’t directly mention taking her as a disciple as he had with Xiang Haikui. After his secret communication, he glanced at the meditating Dao Chen, “I’ll wait at the Buddhist cave first, leaving only at sunset tomorrow. If she’s willing to come with me, have her come to the cave before sunset.”

With these words, he transformed into a flying sword and departed.

Xiang Haikui still had words to say, but Jing Wen moved too swiftly for her transmission to catch up.

However, she inadvertently discovered that Meng Xilou, taking advantage of Jing Wen drawing everyone’s attention, had secretly left the city.

He probably knew her father’s methods well and was trying to escape.

She initially wanted to notify her father, but thought better of it: “Lu Xiqiao, Little Bai, come with me first.”

Meanwhile, Xiang Heng, eager to help heal his daughter’s wounds and talk with her, noticed Dao Chen stumbling to his feet on the city wall and hurried forward to support him.

“Senior Yin, are you alright?” Xiang Heng couldn’t distinguish whether this was Dao Chen or Yin Changli, but it transmitted into his consciousness anyway.

“He needs rest,” Dao Chen gestured for Xiang Heng not to disturb him.

“No, I don’t need it.” Within Dao Chen’s consciousness, Yin Changli’s awareness had been hazy, but upon hearing the words “Senior,” he sat up with a sudden jolt, “Uncle, I’m fine, I apologize for worrying you.”