Chapter 97

The little handbook outlined every possible scenario that might arise in battle—neatly arranged, simple to follow, and annotated with all of Shen Xian’er’s favorite emoji faces.

Following the instructions to the letter, she pulled out a detonation talisman and hurled it toward Miao Huo.

The moment it flew through the air, Miao Huo’s face went pale.

He knew exactly what a detonation talisman could do. Normally, with his level of control over his fire-elemental qi, he wouldn’t have cared. He could easily suppress any internal reaction and avoid being turned into a walking bomb. But now? With two conflicting sources of fire qi wreaking havoc inside his body, he couldn’t do a thing.

He tried to intercept the talisman, but his limbs wouldn’t obey. All he could do was watch helplessly as it struck one of the four massive fire serpents around him.

Boom!

A towering mushroom cloud erupted into the sky. The entire competition arena trembled under the force of the explosion. The protective formation cracked audibly—it nearly collapsed.

The crowd was stunned. Everything had escalated so quickly. Just moments ago, they were practically playing house. Now explosives were flying through the air?

And that explosion… it wasn’t normal. The arena’s defensive formation was at least second-tier, and even it nearly failed. That blast had to be on the level of a full-power strike from a Foundation Establishment cultivator.

“Is Miao Huo… dead?” someone muttered in disbelief.

The sheer force should’ve flattened any Qi Refining cultivator caught in it.

On the battlefield, Shen Xian’er huddled safely inside her guardian array, hands over her face, trembling from the shock. Fortunately, her senior brother had warned her: after throwing the detonation talisman, immediately activate the protective array.

This confirmed one thing for her—listening to her senior brother was never wrong.

Everyone expected the match to be over. Even someone as tough as Wu Dao would’ve been injured by that blast. But when the smoke cleared, Miao Huo stood there—alive, and seemingly unscathed.

A towering plume of fire enveloped him, shielding him from harm. Though his face was smudged with soot, the protective fire had done its job. The crowd was amazed—how had he survived that?

“Fire Dao Sutra, huh? That explains it,” murmured Han Luo in the stands.

The Fire Dao Sutra was a legendary ancient cultivation technique. But as its name suggested, only those with the potential for immortality could truly master it. And it came with a terrifying price: anyone who cultivated it could not train in any other technique—not even another fire-based one. Doing so would result in their body exploding like a human firecracker.

Throughout history, many prodigies had tried, including even Nascent Soul and Soul Transformation cultivators. All had failed. Most hadn’t even reached Core Formation before their bodies imploded.

So for Miao Huo, a mere teenager, to walk that path showed ambition far beyond his years.

“Impressive trick, Senior Sister Shen,” Miao Huo growled, his eyes brimming with fury.

He was no fool. Thinking back, he realized he’d been played since the beginning.

She’d started with a lollipop and an innocent smile. Then she attacked with seemingly useless fire talismans, all while acting confused and harmless. Finally, she lured him into a trap and forced him to expose his trump card.

There was no doubt—no one in the cultivation world was truly innocent.

Now, Miao Huo’s expression twisted into something close to madness. At his age, experiencing this kind of calculated humiliation was unbearable.

And yet, Shen Xian’er calmly flipped through her handbook again.

Next instruction: “If the opponent turns into a giant fireball, proceed as follows.”

Step one: Take out array disk #187 and activate it underfoot.

“Got it!” she chirped.

A second-tier guardian formation appeared around her. At the same time, Miao Huo charged—no weapons, no spells—just raw fists pounding against the barrier.

Crack!

The array trembled under his barrage. Shen Xian’er shrieked.

“Eek! If it cracks, it won’t look pretty!”

The crowd facepalmed. That was her concern?

Miao Huo went berserk, fists hammering relentlessly. Meanwhile, Shen Xian’er kept calmly reading her manual.

Step two: Take out disk #21.

She did, placing it beside her.

A strange contraption emerged—something like a turret with two handles. Curious, she checked the next line.

Step three: Attach a water-element talisman to the slot labeled “Entry.”

She found the label, stuck the talisman on, and the turret turned a gleaming blue.

Step four: Aim at the sky and pull the trigger five times.

She didn’t know what it would do, but her trust in Han Luo was absolute.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Five muffled shots echoed upward. Moments later, a light drizzle began to fall across the arena.

Miao Huo’s furious pounding abruptly stopped.

He stared in disbelief as the rain began extinguishing the flames cloaking his body.

“No… No! This can’t be happening!”

He panicked. His flames weren’t ordinary—they’d been refined through six rounds of body tempering and enhanced by the Fire Dao Sutra! How could mere rain extinguish them?

But it wasn’t ordinary rain.

Han Luo’s so-called “practice” talismans were still far superior to the standard ones. And this rain? It wasn’t just cooling—it was Sealing Rain, capable of temporarily locking a cultivator’s spiritual energy.

Unprotected by any defensive artifacts, Miao Huo took the brunt of it.

“Your fire’s going out, little brother,” Shen Xian’er said sweetly, squatting beside him with a smile.

“I refuse! I’m stronger than her! I won’t lose—” Miao Huo roared, trying to reignite his flames.

Just then—splash!

A bucket of cold water drenched him from above.

He looked up to see Shen Xian’er standing there with a giant barrel, readying a second pour.

“Can you not?” he pleaded. “At least let me burn a little longer.”

But his plea was met with another bucket of icy water.

Miao Huo howled in frustration. He tried again.

Splash.

Every time he lit a spark, she doused it—like a soulless automaton programmed to extinguish all flames.

She didn’t know why this was necessary.

Han Luo had simply said, “Killing is easy. Breaking the spirit is harder.” Whatever that meant, her job was just to keep pouring.

And so the cycle continued. Miao Huo screamed, she splashed. Again and again.

Eventually, he stopped screaming.

For some reason, his thoughts drifted to his mother.

He stood up quietly and walked off the stage without a word, eyes red, lips pressed tight.

“Kid,” Han Luo muttered, “you got lucky today. That was just water. Next time, it might be acid.”

He wasn’t interested in picking on juniors. He just wanted to make sure the lesson landed—and left an impact.

The match ended in what seemed like chaos. But to those who looked closer, it was clear: Shen Xian’er was growing up. She’d learned how to take care of her junior brothers—albeit a little roughly.

Even if Miao Huo’s spirit was utterly crushed in the process, the effect couldn’t be denied.

“Match over,” the referee declared. “Victory goes to Shen Xian’er.”

The competition continued.