Chapter 80

In the competitors’ rest area, dozens of participants in various outfits had gathered. Small groups clustered together, quietly discussing strategy for the upcoming matches. Others sat cross-legged, meditating and conserving energy for the intense battles ahead.

Naturally, Shen Xian’er’s arrival drew everyone’s attention.

Ranked third on the Luoxian Sect’s internal rankings—just behind Li Jun in first and Chi Xiao in second—Shen Xian’er, despite her sweet and innocent demeanor, was considered one of the strongest contenders for the top spot in the Luoxian Grand Tournament.

No one wanted to face her.

Why?

First, if you beat her, her loyal fans might tear you apart afterward. Second, if you lost, those same fans would roast you into oblivion. Either way, it wasn’t worth the trouble.

So, by unspoken agreement, most participants hoped to avoid her in the tournament. They’d rather fight Chi Xiao than her. Losing to Chi Xiao was honorable; at least it would be a good fight. But facing Shen Xian’er? You might suffer internal injuries just from the psychological pressure.

Of course, as one of the sect’s most talented, beloved, and adorable disciples, it was impossible not to pay attention to her. But even then, the admiration was kept at a safe distance. No one dared get too close.

The reason became apparent when—

“Xian’er, you’re late! The tournament’s about to begin!”

Chi Xiao strode over, her long legs clad in crimson armor that clinked with each step, like a warning bell to nearby gawkers: This is my girl. Back off or deal with me.

“Sister Chi Xiao! Why are you here?”

Xian’er beamed and ran over to hug her arm affectionately.

To ensure fairness, powerful contenders were usually assigned to different zones upon entering the arena.

“I came to check on you... and see who’s been placed in the same zone,” Chi Xiao replied, sweeping her golden-red eyes across the area.

One glance was all she needed to memorize every face. The message was clear: Xian’er is mine. Touch her, and you’re making an enemy of me, Chi Xiao.

Many disciples avoided her gaze, some pretending to meditate. Chi Xiao, satisfied with the intimidation effect, gave a small nod.

“Xian’er, get ready. The match is about to start.”

She turned to leave for her own zone, but—

“Chi Xiao, so you’re here too.”

Li Jun strolled over, composed and elegant.

Unlike Chi Xiao’s powerful and assertive presence, Li Jun had the refined, scholarly air of a gentleman. Instantly, the atmosphere in the area lightened—many disciples clearly preferred Li Jun’s “warm older brother” vibe over Chi Xiao’s “battle queen” persona.

“Senior Brother Li Jun, what brings you here?” Chi Xiao asked. As her strongest rival, she regarded him with both respect and determination. She was ready to face him in the finals and prove who truly deserved the top spot in the sect.

“To be honest,” Li Jun smiled, “I came to see Junior Sister Xian’er.”

“See me?” Xian’er blinked. She knew of him but didn’t recall ever speaking to him. Could it be… he brought snacks?

“That’s right. I came to cheer you on. I hope you’ll go easy on me if we end up facing each other.”

His tone was gentle and warm, like a big brother checking in on his adorable little sister.

“Tch. Flatterer.”

A cold voice interrupted.

A lean, short-haired young man in black training gear walked over. Though not bulky, his well-defined muscles radiated power, sharp and focused like a drawn blade.

This was Wu Dao, a disciple of Qianren Peak—a body cultivator. He often trained alone in the Wan Beast Mountain Range, and few had ever seen him fight. As a result, he ranked only twentieth on the sect leaderboard.

Now he had just insulted Li Jun.

The atmosphere tensed.

Everyone expected Li Jun to retaliate—maybe even strike. But he didn’t. Because he was Li Jun.

He wasn’t the hot-headed type like Chi Xiao.

Instead, he laughed it off. “Haha, Wu Dao, we’re all from the same sect. If you have a problem with me, let’s settle it in the finals.”

Though he sometimes seemed overly smooth, even slick, no one could deny that Li Jun had the strength to back it up.

Wu Dao gave him a flat stare.

“You’re not worthy to face me.”

Then, he strode past Li Jun—not toward Chi Xiao as many feared, but straight to Shen Xian’er.

“Junior Sister Xian’er,” he said with fierce determination, “I’ll be waiting for you in the finals. I’ll defeat you in front of everyone and prove to the Sect Master who the true future of Luoxian Sect is.”

It was a bold proclamation. Gone was the naive, clumsy kid who had once entered the sect—Wu Dao had been forged into a weapon by Qianren Peak Master Yun Qianren, and now he was ready to unsheath that blade.

“Enough, Wu Dao.”

Chi Xiao moved to shield Xian’er, stepping between them. The two locked eyes.

In that instant, the air around them cracked with tension.

“What’s going on here? Planning a mutiny?!”

A sharp voice rang out—an elder had arrived, and only then did the two back down.

Still, everyone knew: if these two faced off in the tournament, it would be a battle of epic proportions.

Wu Dao turned to leave for his assigned area when—

“Senior Brother Wu Dao!” Shen Xian’er suddenly called out.

“If I end up fighting you, you definitely won’t win… because I have a secret weapon!”

She tapped her fingers together mysteriously, looking like a mischievous child rather than a serious competitor.

Despite himself, Wu Dao couldn’t help but grin. That was the same dorky, lovable Xian’er from before.

“Alright, let’s see what this secret weapon is. See you in the finals.”

Then he left.

Li Jun and Chi Xiao also returned to their zones. The brief encounter had shifted the entire tournament’s tone.

Now, it was a powder keg.

And not just Wu Dao—many participants were here for one reason: to make a name for themselves.

A strong showing in the Luoxian Grand Tournament meant better resources, better techniques, and a faster path to power.

“Woooooooooo…”

A deep horn sounded.

The tournament had officially begun.

“Clank, clank…”

Heavy chains pulled open the massive iron gate. One by one, contestants stepped through and entered the central Luoxian Arena.

Out of thousands of hopefuls, only 3,000 disciples had made it through the initial selection.

“Xian’er, let’s go! Xian’er, let’s go! Xian’er, let’s go!”

Han Luo chanted with the rest of Xian’er’s fan club.

They didn’t know who he was, and he liked it that way. As long as they were cheering for her, he could blend in unnoticed.

As the participants marched into the arena, the spectators erupted in thunderous cheers that shook the entire venue.

No drawn-out opening ceremonies. No flashy announcements.

Yun Yangzi stepped forward and shouted—

And the Luoxian Grand Tournament officially began.