Crush's Cold Senior Sister is Actually Childhood Sweetheart - Chapter 35

Chapter 35: “I Want to Take You as an Apprentice, Are You Willing?”

“I want to take you on as my disciple. Do you accept?”

An Jin originally thought the martial arts tournament list would be a scroll, a sheet of paper, or a booklet. She was surprised when the immortal envoy just waved his hand lightly, and the walls around them were instantly filled with text.

It was a dense sea of characters, and it was hard to know where to begin looking.

“…How did you do that?!” An Jin’s eyes widened.

In her memory, the Compendium of Heavenly Realm Arts had never recorded such a technique. She blinked. Could it be a new art created by an immortal?

The immortal envoy smiled elegantly. “It’s the latest mini projector from the mortal realm. No screen needed, portable, with autofocus and high-definition quality. Special price, twenty-eight thousand.”

As he spoke, he held up the white cube in his hand, as if he was just a step away from adding, “Welcome to purchase.”

An Jin: “…”

I’m sure you and the Demon Lord, who spent tens of thousands of mortal coins on a piece of glass, would have a lot in common.

She was still silently grumbling to herself when a sudden gasp in the private room interrupted her thoughts. She followed everyone’s gaze and saw the very top of the list, which read:

Ling Qi of the Hall of Chongguang vs. Shen Tianmo of the Hall of Tianmo

The private room erupted in an uproar. Exclamations and discussions intertwined, and the scene instantly became chaotic.

“High Gods can participate in the martial arts tournament?!” someone blurted out, their voice loud enough for the whole room to hear. The people around him didn’t say anything, but they all looked at the immortal envoy, clearly confused.

The immortal envoy maintained his perfect professional smile. “Originally, no. However, Senior Immortal Ling’s registration reason was to ‘break through the limits of combat.’ High God Tianmo was so moved by this fearless spirit and courage that she made an exception and agreed to compete.”

Everyone uniformly turned to look at Ling Qi, who shrugged her shoulders innocently. Then, all eyes simultaneously turned to Yang Anping, who was hiding in the corner.

Yang Anping, who had quietly retreated since the envoy came in, was now pale and red-faced, but she was still trying to defend herself. “I… I don’t know what’s going on. This… this must be an arrangement by the Emperor and the High Gods… After all, the martial arts tournament is all about matching skills and…”

“Matching skills?!” The senior sister who had earlier prayed for a rogue cultivator as an opponent suddenly raised her voice, her emotions agitated. “Say that again after you look at this!”

Her trembling finger pointed to a spot on the list.

Following her finger, everyone saw the opponent’s information next to her name: Ying Baizang of the Hall of Youhan.

Everyone: “…”

That’s definitely a bit of a bully.

If the academy was the future successor of the Upper Realm, then Ying Baizang was the undisputed head of the academy. She was exceptionally talented and diligent, having reached the level of a half-step High God eight hundred years ago, just one lightning tribulation away from ascending.

When performing missions with other sects, she would deliberately hold back and not use too many moves, fearing that if she couldn’t control herself and finished the job, others wouldn’t even have a chance to practice.

Now, her name was conspicuously listed next to that senior sister’s. The entire private room became eerily silent. Everyone looked at her with sympathetic eyes, a clear “my condolences” written on their faces. A few fellow disciples who were close to her had even quietly slipped out to find someone to prepare some medicinal pills in advance.

Although the list did seem strange, it would be too presumptuous to immediately conclude that Yang Anping was behind it—unless the name after Yang Anping’s wasn’t that of an unknown rogue cultivator.

The strength of rogue cultivators had always been uneven, but the fact that this person was “unknown” was very telling.

There were two types of rogue cultivators in the Upper Realm: those who sought freedom and didn’t want to be bound by a sect, and those who wanted to join a sect but were not accepted. The former couldn’t be unheard of; even a budding newcomer would have been targeted by several sects, all hoping to get them to join first.

But no one had ever heard of this “Ren Qingwen.”

The people in the private room looked at each other, and everything was said without a word.

“Alright.”

High God Chongguang coughed lightly, interrupting the discussion. She said indifferently, “What’s with all this bickering? Don’t always think about whether the list is fair or not. If you have the strength, does it matter who you fight?”

Although the list was highly suspicious, since High God Chongguang had no intention of investigating, they could only let the matter drop for now. Yang Anping lowered her head and returned to High God Chongguang’s side, looking innocent and naive.

After the immortal envoy left, the martial arts tournament officially began. There was no opening ceremony, no speech from the Emperor, or any performances; they got straight to the point.

The order of the matches was determined by drawing lots. An Jin thought it would be a traditional drawing of lots, like the Emperor holding a wooden bucket and randomly pulling out bamboo sticks. Instead, a huge screen suddenly descended onto the martial arts stage, and everyone’s names scrolled rapidly before stopping.

The screen froze, and in large letters, it read:

Yang Anping of the Hall of Chongguang vs. Ren Qingwen of Northern Sea

Whether it was the rogue cultivators gathered around the arena or the disciples from other sects in the second-floor private rooms, they all had the same question in their minds at that moment:

Who is Ren Qingwen?

The spots for each martial arts tournament were extremely limited. Besides the fixed number of spots given to the major immortal sects, there were only a handful for rogue cultivators. The rogue cultivators who got spots were either very strong or had a powerful background. But even the rogue cultivators who were permanent residents of the Northern Sea had never heard of a person named Ren Qingwen.

In the Hall of Chongguang’s private room, Yang Anping’s expression instantly froze. She didn’t expect to be on the stage without even having time to prepare. Seeing this, High God Chongguang gently patted her shoulder:

“Don’t be nervous. Just treat it as a game. If you can last three moves, it’s a draw. If you can last ten, it’s a victory.”

“…”

The other disciples in the room twitched their eyelids. Anyone who knew the situation would say she was fighting an unknown rogue cultivator, but those who didn’t would think Yang Anping was going to challenge Emperor Fuling.

Taking advantage of the chaos in the room, Ling Qi quietly slipped to the edge of the viewing stand. She stood next to An Jin and secretly took her hand. “Do you want to sit down below? It’s a bit quieter there.”

“Below?” An Jin was stunned for a few seconds before she realized Ling Qi was referring to the two empty seats on the high platform.

“…Senior Sister, not just anyone can sit in those seats,” An Jin said sincerely. “When Senior Ying sits there, she’s a successor to the Upper Realm. If I sit there, I’ll become a problem student getting special attention from the teachers, seriously.”

To this day, she still remembered the time when she had just joined the sect, and because she was daydreaming in class, Senior Sister Cen made her stand next to the podium. She felt like she was sitting on pins and needles, facing everyone.

Ling Qi smiled and didn’t say anything more, just silently wrapped An Jin’s hand in her palm. An Jin blinked. Under Ling Qi’s surprised gaze, she broke free, but the next second she grabbed Ling Qi’s hand back, turning from passive to active.

The moment their fingers intertwined, Ling Qi was slightly taken aback, but An Jin had already turned her head.

The match was truly spectacular.

Although An Jin’s gaze had been on the arena the whole time, she was only startled when a loud cheer erupted from below the stage. She finally got a good look at the other person on the stage.

Ren Qingwen was wearing a fitted black short robe with shoulder guards. Her tight cuffs were fastened with buttons, making her look clean and sharp. She wore matching slim-fit trousers, which didn’t get in the way during combat.

Her fiery red hair was braided into a thick plait that reached her waist and swayed with her movements. Unlike others who were covered in talismans and spiritual artifacts, trying to cram their whole home into their sleeves, she only carried a long sword and had no other accessories, making her more agile than anyone else.

Ren Qingwen’s posture was as relaxed as if she were taking a walk, and she seemed to be toying with Yang Anping like a pet, forcing her to roll and scramble just to get away with a casual wave of her hand.

Sweat drenched her long dress. Yang Anping knelt on the stage, her hands on the ground, thinking she could catch her breath for a moment, but when she looked up, she found the opponent’s long sword was already at her neck.

With just a flick of her wrist, she could have knocked Yang Anping off the stage, but Ren Qingwen was in no hurry to end the match. Each time she drew her sword, she deliberately held back, giving her opponent the illusion that “maybe there’s still hope if I try a little harder,” forcing Yang Anping to get up and fight her again and again.

But Yang Anping was no match for her. Although she tried to block with her sword, she was quickly tripped and fell to the ground again, her face scratched in several places, and her formerly neat bun had become a mess.

Everyone could see that Yang Anping had lost long ago and was now just being played with like a monkey.

Just as Ren Qingwen was about to force her to get up again, a bell rang from High God Chongguang’s private room on the second floor. Ren Qingwen immediately sheathed her sword. She watched as several immortal envoys went up to help Yang Anping, even offering a few words of comfort despite Yang Anping’s angry glare.

Her posture was quite composed.

After she got off the stage, her gaze still lingered subtly in a corner on the second floor. In a place where no one else could see, the corner of her mouth lifted into a slight smile.

Though the smile was fleeting.

An Jin had thought that seeing Yang Anping so humiliated would make High God Chongguang furious, or at least she would lovingly comfort her for a long time. She was surprised that the first thing Yang Chongguang did after ringing the bell was to have Cen Xiyao go downstairs to find Ren Qingwen, her opponent.

Yang Anping was still in a sorry state, but she had no mind to change her clothes. She stomped her feet in a panic. “Mother, didn’t you see?! She humiliated me like that!”

She normally only called her “Master” in front of others. This time, she was clearly distraught.

What was most surprising to everyone was that High God Chongguang ignored her this time. Instead, she quietly looked at Cen Xiyao, who was standing next to her, waiting for her reply.

Cen Xiyao’s brow furrowed, her expression unreadable. “Are you sure?”

“If you’re not happy about it, then forget it.” High God Chongguang rarely smiled, but when Cen Xiyao actually listened to her and went downstairs to find the person, the smile instantly vanished.

An Jin was completely confused and couldn’t figure out what her Master was up to. She turned to Ling Qi with a puzzled look, but her Senior Sister just smiled and squeezed her fingers. She clearly knew something was going on but refused to say a word.

When the figure with the fiery red braided hair appeared in the private room, High God Chongguang sat on the main seat and said directly:

“I want to take you on as my disciple. Do you accept?”

An Jin: “???”

The entire private room instantly exploded. Ling Qi, however, seemed to have expected it. She shrugged and leaned against the wall without a word. Everyone was whispering to each other, and Yang Anping kept tugging on High God Chongguang’s sleeve and shaking it. High God Chongguang didn’t push her away, but she also didn’t say another word to her.

In the midst of the noise, only Ling Qi and Cen Xiyao were quietly leaning against the wall. They exchanged a look, and Cen Xiyao was the first to look away.

What was most surprising was that Ren Qingwen didn’t hesitate for a moment. She immediately knelt down and performed a grand bow. “Qingwen pays her respects to Master.”