At this time, Shangguan Zongheng stared at Yuwen Cheng closely, with a complicated expression in his eyes.

He thought to himself, "Is this the son of my ruthless junior fellow apprentice?"

There was a subtle flash of pain and anger in his eyes, as if the past grudges and hatreds came back to his mind at this moment.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, looked at Yuwen Cheng carefully, and frowned unconsciously. The tightly furrowed brows were like mountains and ravines, full of disgust for Yuwen Cheng.

Although the grudges of the older generation should not involve the younger generation, every time his eyes met Yuwen Cheng's face, which was somewhat similar to that of his treacherous junior brother.

Shangguan Zongheng couldn't help but feel a chill and resentment in his heart.

At this moment, on the stage, Yuwen Cheng had a sneer on his face, and that smile was full of ridicule and disdain.

He said, "I didn't expect that the young master of Jiange still has some ability, but he won't be so lucky next time."

When Puyang Yu heard this, anger suddenly appeared on his face. He was already a little tired because he had consumed a lot of spiritual energy in the previous competition.

But being provoked by Yuwen Cheng at this moment, he immediately became energetic again, staring at Yuwen Cheng with his eyes, and the sword in his hand trembled slightly, as if echoing his master's emotions.

He gritted his teeth and said, "Don't be so complacent. That was just a warm-up. You'll be in trouble next!"

Yuwen Cheng seemed unaware of Puyang Yu's anger, and he strolled around the arena leisurely.

The sleeves of her clothes swayed lightly in the wind, and the folding fan in her hand opened and closed intermittently, making a "pa pa" sound, each of which seemed to strike at Puyang Yu's tense heartstrings.

Young Master, do you think that by defeating that monk, you can gain a firm foothold in this arena? How naive you are!

Yuwen Cheng's voice came lightly, but it was sharp enough to pierce people's hearts.

Puyang Yu snorted coldly and stopped talking. Instead, he slowly gathered all his spiritual power into the sword.

The sword glowed brighter and brighter, making a buzzing sound. The air around it seemed to become heavier due to the powerful fluctuations of spiritual energy.

His figure flashed, and he rushed towards Yuwen Cheng like a ghost. The sword in his hand was wrapped in a whistling sound and pierced the opponent's throat.

Yuwen Cheng raised the corner of his mouth, and a hint of cunning flashed in his eyes.

Just as the tip of the sword was about to touch his throat, he suddenly turned his body to the side, avoiding the fierce attack by a hair's breadth.

At the same time, he swung the folding fan in his hand violently, and the fan bone cut towards Puyang Yu's wrist like a sharp blade.

Puyang Yu also reacted very quickly. He immediately drew back his sword to defend himself. The sword collided with the fan bone, making a crisp metallic collision sound and splashing a few sparks.

The two men engaged in a fight in an instant, their figures rapidly crossing each other on the stage. For a moment, only the flashes of spiritual power could be seen, and the shadows of swords and winds crisscrossed.

The people in the audience watched intently, their hearts beating fast as the two fought, and they exclaimed in surprise from time to time.

After several rounds, Puyang Yu gradually felt exhausted, and Yuwen Cheng's offensive became more and more fierce. The folding fan in his hand was like a living thing, and his moves were unpredictable, sometimes picking, sometimes stabbing, sometimes chopping, sometimes sweeping, and he could always attack from unexpected angles.

Puyang Yu had several minor wounds on his body, and blood oozed out, staining his clothes red.

"What's wrong, young master, you can't do it anymore?" Yuwen Cheng continued to provoke Puyang Yu with words while attacking, and the sarcasm on his face became more intense.

Puyang Yu gritted his teeth, thinking to himself, "I can't be defeated like this. I bear the name of Jiange, how can I fail here!"

As soon as he thought of this, he shouted suddenly, regardless of the loss of his own spiritual power, and forcibly stimulated the potential in his body.

The spiritual power around him suddenly became violent, and the sword in his hand shone brightly, stabbing straight at Yuwen Cheng.

This move was so powerful that it forced Yuwen Cheng to retreat repeatedly, and a serious look appeared on his face for the first time.

But Yuwen Cheng was a veteran of the battlefield after all. After a brief panic, he quickly stabilized his body, increased his spiritual power to the peak, and prepared to meet Puyang Yu's desperate attack.

There were bursts of exclamations from the crowd from time to time, some because of Puyang Yu's desperate counterattack, and some because they were shocked by Yuwen Cheng's thrilling escape.

"Look! The swordsmanship of the Sword Pavilion's young master is so sharp that he can even force the North Sea Saint to retreat. He is truly a hero!"

A middle-aged warrior in a green robe couldn't help but exclaim loudly in admiration, his voice trembling slightly with excitement, his hands clenched tightly into fists.

It was as if he was on the stage, cheering for the young master of Jiange.

On the other side, an old man twirled his beard, shook his head slightly, and murmured, "The Son of the North Sea is no ordinary person. He can handle such a dangerous situation so calmly."

It is still unknown who will win this competition. The people around nodded in agreement.

In an instant, the spiritual powers of the two people collided with a loud bang, making a deafening sound. A powerful airflow swept out in all directions with the two people as the center. The ground of the ring was actually cracked by this force, and wood chips flew everywhere.

Puyang Yu only felt a surge of overwhelming force coming back at him, and his body flew backwards like a kite with a broken string.

He fell heavily on the ring, and a mouthful of blood spurted out of his mouth, staining the floor of the ring red.

There was an uproar in the audience, with exclamations and sighs mixed together.

The gray-robed elder who was standing on the stage escorting Puyang Yu's face changed drastically. He didn't care about anything else and quickly flew to Puyang Yu's side and helped him over.

[At this moment, I was also extremely anxious and frightened. I frantically took out the healing pill from my pocket and quickly handed it to Puyang Yu.]

Puyang Yu looked at the pill in my hand with his dying breath, a touch of emotion and tenderness flashed in his eyes.

His lips trembled slightly, and he whispered, "Sister Ling, don't worry about me..." Before he finished speaking, he coughed violently again, and blood oozed from the corner of his mouth.

I choked up and said, "Brother Yu, you must hold on and take the pill quickly."

With the help of the gray-robed elder, Puyang Yu swallowed the pill with difficulty.

At this time, the second brother and sister Yanran saw that Puyang Yu was so seriously injured, and anger burned in their chests.

At this time, the disciples on the stage shouted again, "Next match, the Holy Son of the North Sea Holy Land, Yuwen Cheng, will face the eldest daughter of Piaomiao Xianzong, Baili Yanran."

When Sister Yanran heard her name being called, she stared at Yuwen Cheng in the audience. Her eyes were like sharp cold stars, as if she wanted to see through Yuwen Cheng.

At this time, Yuwen Cheng was holding a fan in his hand, fanning it gently and looking at us standing on the stage.

Then he looked at Baili Yanran provocatively and said, "Baili Yanran, you are not afraid to fight this young master, are you?"

This young master has not yet avenged the murder of Shu Lin, so it is a good opportunity to settle the old grudge together.

Sister Yanran snorted coldly, her voice as cold as ice in the coldest days of winter. "Yuwencheng, you despicable villain, even if I know I can't defeat you today, I will fight you to the death."

After she finished speaking, she made a move to stand up, with a resolute look like a warrior about to rush to the battlefield, unafraid of the threat of death.