Meanwhile, far away in Kunlun, where the warm morning sun shone over the thick and lush forest, a caravan traveled along the main road.
The air was heavy with the scent of pine and wildflowers, while birdsong echoed through the canopy above. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying with it the earthy aroma of damp soil and moss.
Surprisingly, this caravan consisted only of women, their lower faces veiled and their martial robes slightly revealing.
The silken fabric of their garments whispered softly with each movement, occasionally catching the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. None of them wore jians or any other visible weapons at their waists, though their graceful movements betrayed a hidden strength and skill.
They were dressed in white martial robes with purple stripes, which, though covering their bodies, left the belly and surrounding areas partially exposed. The bottom parts of their robes resembled a shawl, with thin white fabric that blurred the view of their legs, offering a faint, ethereal glimpse.
The contrast between the stark white and rich purple created an alluring visual, drawing the eye to the curves and contours of their forms.
Inside one of the carriages, its wooden frame creaking gently with the motion of travel, a conversation unfolded. "Are you sure it's okay to arrive this late, Elder Sister?" one of the women asked. Her delicate fingers fidgeted with the edge of her veil.
"Well," replied the woman addressed as Elder Sister, her face partially hidden in shadow, eyes rolling upward and mouth slightly open, teasing her tongue out, "It's fine. It's not like we're that important anyway." Her tone was playful, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes as she lounged languidly against the cushions of the carriage.
The younger woman chuckled at her Elder Sister's playful demeanor, her eyes crinkling with amusement above her veil. "I heard Kunlun has some very handsome man, like the ones in Wudang. Are you perhaps interested in that, Elder Sister?" she asked with a smile, her eyes blinking mischievously above her veil.
The Elder Sister looked at her Junior, then lifted her veil slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her lower face. Her long pinky nail, polished to a mirror sheen, traced her tongue as her eyes rolled up to the side. "Of course," she purred, her voice low and husky.
A faint bluish Qi glowed around her fingers, casting an eerie light within the dim carriage interior. She licked them slowly, sensually, causing her tongue to bleed slightly. "It would be... delicious."
...
Meanwhile, back in Kunlun's expansive Central Courtyard, the brilliant sun had climbed to its zenith, casting a warm golden glow over the vast expanse of polished marble. The courtyard had been meticulously transformed into an arena, with a large, sturdy wooden platform erected at its center.
The gentle creaking of wood under foot and the soft rustle of silk robes added a rhythmic undertone to the excited murmurs of the crowd.
Common folk from all corners of Kunlun had already begun flocking around the makeshift stage, eagerly jostling for vantage points. Their colorful attire created a vibrant tapestry against the pristine white marble. Upon the platform stood a solitary contestant, a slender jian gripped firmly in her hand, its polished blade catching the sunlight in mesmerizing flashes.
Her chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, the silk of her robe whispering softly with each inhale. She cupped her hands in a display of respect toward her fallen opponent.
"Thank you for the invaluable guidance, Fellow Martial Brother," she spoke, her lilting voice carrying a gentle sincerity that belied the fierce intensity of their recent duel. Her silky tresses, the hue of warm maple syrup, cascaded freely past her shoulders, a few strands clinging to her temples where a light sheen of perspiration glistened.
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They framed a youthful, heart-shaped visage that emanated an aura of innocence, her cheeks flushed with the exertion of combat. Yet, her eyes, windows to an ancient soul, radiated a profound, luminous solemnity as they studied her opponent.
"She won again... unbelievable!" a voice from the teeming crowd exclaimed in disbelief, their owner watching in awe as the young, ethereally beautiful girl dispatched yet another fine young man. The speaker turned to his friend, eyes wide with amazement, his weathered hands gesticulating wildly. "Did you see how she moved? It was like... like water flowing effortlessly around an unyielding stone!"
"How many times now? I think this is her fifth consecutive victory!" another bystander added, his voice a mix of awe and breathless excitement. He stood on tiptoes, craning his neck for a better view. "I've never before witnessed anyone wield their art with such sublime grace. It's... it's mesmerizing!"
On the other hand, her recently defeated opponent—a young man whose narrowed eyes and trembling body betrayed his bitter humiliation—cupped his hands in a gesture of profound respect. "No, it should be I who thanks you for this invaluable lesson, Fellow Martial Sister Song!"
The woman, Song Jia, smiled warmly upon hearing her opponent's gracious admission of defeat. The corners of her eyes crinkled slightly, softening her otherwise ethereal features. Despite her sweat-drenched white martial robe, which clung beguilingly to her lithe form and elicited audible whistles of appreciation from the crowd, her smile remained serene, her eyes showing no signs of fatigue or weariness.
"Is there anyone else, fellow Martial Brothers and Sisters? Please, I am still in need of guidance!" Song Jia called out, cupping her hands as her piercing gaze scanned the Kunlun guests, who were standing in separate areas from the common crowd.
"Look at her! Five grueling bouts, and she dares ask for more challengers. Is she even a woman?" An elderly man muttered to his neighbor, head shaking in disbelief.
She had already handily defeated several disciples hailing from smaller to mid-sized orthodox sects, all fellow martial artists lingering within the 2nd realm, just like her.
Yet with each resounding victory, Song Jia's excitement only intensified, despite the friendly nature of these sparring matches between allied factions. Her eyes gleamed with an almost feverish light, and her fingers twitched subtly on the hilt of her jian, eager for the next bout.
A young disciple from a rival sect grumbled loudly, "How are we supposed to compete against such sublime mastery?"
Indeed, if Kunlun's rising star continued her dominant streak, it would further cement the sect's reputation as a preeminent bastion of martial prowess, ensuring a steady influx of commissions and resources from the commoners.
But should they falter, other sects would reap those coveted benefits.
Both parties trod the orthodox path, making this a win-win situation—especially for the illustrious Kunlun Sect.
'Come, more challengers! More!' Song Jia thought eagerly, her jian seeming to hum with unslaked challenge, mirroring the ravenous spirit blazing within her breast.
The blade quivered ever so slightly in her grip, as if sharing her anticipation. Unknowingly, a faint azure radiance Qi began to envelop her lithe form as the flow of Qi coursing through her meridians and Lower Dantian accelerated imperceptibly.
"Go, Sister Song! Bring glory to our sect!" a fresh-faced Kunlun disciple shouted hoarsely.
"You're amazing!" another called out in awe, before adding with a mixture of admiration and concern, "But please, take a moment to rest! Your face is flushed crimson!"
On the opposing side, Outer Disciples cheered excitedly for Song Jia, though their raucous shouts carried an undercurrent of worry. They had noticed the telltale redness rapidly spreading across her otherwise delicate, fey-like visage.
In stark contrast, the Kunlun guests, the disciples from rival sects steadfastly avoided meeting Song Jia's intense, eager gaze.
"That woman is utterly unhinged!" one hissed through gritted teeth, his knuckles white as he gripped the arms of his chair. "The Elders cautioned us against embarrassing our sect. We have already lost once, and now, seeing her martial art, challenging her would only bring further embarrassment!"
"How can a mere woman had such profound strength?" another muttered bitterly under his breath, his eyes narrowed to slits as he watched Song Jia. "I'll wager she's using the skill she brought from the Tower. It simply isn't natural!”
Though Song Jia's ethereal beauty was undeniable, it was her sublime martial prowess that left the onlookers utterly stunned.
Her deft movements flowed with the effortless grace of an intricate dance, each strike and feint blurring together in an intricate, seemingly choreographed cadence that rendered her attacks maddeningly difficult to predict.
Her jian seemed to leave faint afterimages in the air, its silver blade catching the sunlight in dazzling arcs.
Moreover, her true offensive intentions were often masterfully concealed behind layers of feints and misdirection, further compounding the challenge for her increasingly flustered opponents.
"Then I shall seek guidance as well, Fellow Martial Sister!" a voice suddenly called out, cutting through the hushed murmurs.
A young man strode forward with purposeful steps, ascending onto the platform. The wood creaked softly under his confident stride.
He was garbed in a vibrant green martial robe adorned with white stripes, the fabric swaying with each fluid movement, rustling softly in the gentle breeze.
His hair was cut in a stylishly messy crop that framed his face and just brushed the tops of his ears, while an easy, confident smile played across his slim features.
Though his visage was pleasant if unremarkable, one detail immediately seized the audience's rapt attention -
"A spear?" they murmured in surprise as they noticed the long, finely crafted steel shaft strapped across his back.
"Greetings, I am Sun Huan, a humble disciple from the Quanzhen Sect!" he proclaimed with a broad smile, cupping his hands in a display of respect.
The moment the name of his sect reached the crowd's ears, a ripple of shock spread through the assembled spectators. Eyes widened, and a few gasps of surprise could be heard among the hushed murmurs.
"Isn’t this like mocking the older generation?"
Like the Kunlun, Quanzhen was indeed an orthodox Taoist sect steeped in antiquity. While Kunlun gradually adapted and shifted away from the Taoist path, Quanzhen continued to follow it.