The morning sun rose over the Eastern Dragon Empire, its golden rays filtering through the trees at the foot of The Unwavering Sword’s towering gates. Yun Shaoyun had barely slept the night before. The recent days had been filled with tense moments, both in and out of the sect. But for all his efforts to avoid attention, trouble still seemed to find him.

After the herb hunting expedition with Luo Feng and Mu Qinglan, Yun Shaoyun had successfully secured a rare herb that would aid him in his body cultivation. The herb was essential for his cultivation progress, something that would increase his physical strength and resilience—both necessary for the unpredictable challenges ahead. The herb would enhance his foundation, allowing his body to withstand more rigorous training and combat.

Still, Yun Shaoyun’s mind was clouded by something else. The rumors Xie Zhen had spread about him, painting him as a coward and a schemer, had begun to take root in the sect. The Outer Disciples whispered behind his back, their opinions shaped by Xie Zhen’s malicious gossip.

What frustrated him more was that it reached Elder Xue’s ears. Though his master had never explicitly reprimanded him for his actions, the slight scolding from Elder Xue was a reminder that he needed to control the way the sect viewed him. It seemed there was no escape from the constant tangle of rumors and manipulation that Xie Zhen was spinning.

That afternoon, Yun Shaoyun arrived in Elder Xue’s chambers, the air heavy with a sense of foreboding. His master sat at his desk, his stern face illuminated by the soft glow of lantern light. When Yun Shaoyun stepped inside, Elder Xue did not immediately speak, his sharp eyes studying the disciple who stood before him.

Yun Shaoyun remained silent, understanding that this was not just a casual visit. His master had a way of making even the simplest of conversations feel like an interrogation.

"Yun Shaoyun," Elder Xue finally said, his voice low and measured. "I hear you’ve been avoiding Xie Zhen’s challenge."

Yun Shaoyun straightened, offering a respectful bow. "Master, I did not want to escalate matters unnecessarily."

Elder Xue’s gaze hardened. "Avoiding conflict is not the way of a cultivator. A cultivator must be prepared to face their challenges head-on. If you allow Xie Zhen to think he can walk all over you, you will only feed into his arrogance."

Yun Shaoyun’s shoulders stiffened. "I do not wish to cause trouble, Master."

Elder Xue’s eyes softened, but only slightly. "I understand your hesitation, but understand this: avoiding trouble will only make you a target. Cultivators are judged not only by their strength but by their actions. You must choose how you wish to be remembered."

Yun Shaoyun nodded, determination flickering in his chest. "I will not back down, Master. I will confront Xie Zhen on my terms."

Elder Xue regarded him for a moment longer, then gave a small nod. "Good. But remember, you need more than just courage to succeed. You need wisdom. Strength alone will not win you every battle."

The next day, the rumors surrounding Yun Shaoyun only grew louder. Word had spread quickly: Yun Shaoyun had agreed to face Xie Zhen in a public duel. Disciples gathered in small groups, talking eagerly about the upcoming contest. The once-derisive whispers now carried an edge of excitement. Some doubted Yun Shaoyun’s abilities, believing he would be crushed by the arrogant senior. Others, though, wondered if there was more to Yun Shaoyun than met the eye.

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"Is it true?" one disciple asked, glancing nervously at his friend. "Is Yun Shaoyun really facing Xie Zhen?"

The other disciple shrugged, looking around cautiously. "Who knows? But if he does, it’ll be a good show. Xie Zhen’s too arrogant. He’ll underestimate him."

Back in the courtyard, Yun Shaoyun prepared for the duel. He had learned one crucial lesson after his encounter with Luo Feng: raw strength could only take him so far. The duel with Xie Zhen wasn’t just about combat prowess; it was about controlling the narrative, about outsmarting his opponent.

Luo Feng and Mu Qinglan stood nearby, watching as Yun Shaoyun adjusted his stance. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, but there was something different about the way he held it now. He wasn’t tense. He wasn’t brimming with overconfidence, either. He was calm—almost unnervingly so. His recent cultivation progress had helped him gain greater control over his emotions and instincts, allowing him to focus his mind.

"You look ready," Luo Feng commented, his usual cocky grin softened by a rare moment of sincerity. "Just don’t get too carried away."

Mu Qinglan added her own observations. "Xie Zhen is a skilled cultivator, but he’s predictable. If you focus on his weaknesses, you might find an opening."

Yun Shaoyun glanced at them, his lips curling into a small smile. "Thanks for the advice. But I’m going to handle this my way."

Luo Feng raised an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

Yun Shaoyun’s grin widened. "Let’s just say I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve."

As the time of the duel drew near, a crowd began to gather at the training grounds. The arena was a vast open space surrounded by high stone walls, with a raised platform where the sect’s elders would normally watch. Today, however, the only spectators were the Outer Disciples, eagerly awaiting the clash between the two cultivators.

Yun Shaoyun stepped into the arena, his every movement deliberate. The moment he set foot on the battleground, a hush fell over the crowd. The disciples watched with bated breath, their attention fixed on the figures of Yun Shaoyun and Xie Zhen.

Xie Zhen stood in the center of the arena, his sword gleaming in the sunlight. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Yun Shaoyun walking toward him. His arrogance was palpable, his stance mocking.

"So, the coward finally decided to show up," Xie Zhen sneered. "I didn’t think you had it in you."

Yun Shaoyun ignored the taunt. His focus was entirely on Xie Zhen’s movements, analyzing the way the senior held his sword, the way he carried himself. He could already tell that Xie Zhen was more concerned with showing off than winning the fight. That was exactly what Yun Shaoyun needed.

The announcer raised his hand, signaling the beginning of the duel.

"Begin!"

Xie Zhen wasted no time, charging forward with a series of aggressive strikes aimed at Yun Shaoyun’s head and torso. He was fast—too fast for most disciples—but Yun Shaoyun was prepared. He didn’t rely on brute strength; instead, he used his heightened reflexes to dodge and parry with ease.

Xie Zhen’s sword came at him again, but this time Yun Shaoyun didn’t simply dodge. He stepped to the side, letting the blade pass him by, and with a swift motion, he countered, his sword grazing Xie Zhen’s arm.

The crowd gasped.

Xie Zhen staggered back, his eyes widening in disbelief. He hadn’t expected Yun Shaoyun to land a hit. The outer disciples watching were stunned. This wasn’t the same Yun Shaoyun they had heard about. This Yun Shaoyun was confident, calculating, and now, it seemed he had the upper hand.

But Xie Zhen wasn’t a fool. He recovered quickly, his face flushed with anger.

"How dare you!" he hissed, his body surging with spiritual energy. "You’re dead now!"

With a roar, Xie Zhen unleashed a powerful strike, channeling his energy into his sword. It crackled with spiritual force, and the air seemed to tremble around him. He was serious now, and the crowd could feel it.

Yun Shaoyun stood his ground, but he didn’t engage immediately. He could feel the surge of energy coming from Xie Zhen. The power was impressive, but it was also predictable. Yun Shaoyun grinned.

"Not bad," he muttered to himself, waiting for the right moment.

Xie Zhen’s sword came crashing down, but Yun Shaoyun sidestepped again, this time with far more precision. As Xie Zhen’s sword hit the ground, Yun Shaoyun’s blade flashed—quicker than the eye could follow. In a single, seamless motion, he knocked Xie Zhen’s sword out of his hand, sending it flying across the arena.

Xie Zhen stumbled, shock written across his face.

The crowd erupted into stunned silence, their jaws collectively dropping. They had witnessed the arrogance of Xie Zhen being stripped away in mere moments. Yun Shaoyun stood tall, his sword still in hand, his body relaxed but alert.

Xie Zhen, humiliated, glared at him. His pride was wounded, but his rage was even greater. "You think you’ve won?" Xie Zhen spat, his voice venomous. "This isn’t over."

Yun Shaoyun didn’t respond. He simply held his ground, his calm demeanor belying the storm of emotions he was suppressing. The duel wasn’t just about victory—it was about sending a message. And that message had been received loud and clear.