You can't just say things carelessly.
For a moment, the atmosphere in the air seemed to freeze, as if by an invisible force. A moment later, Bai Chuan suddenly burst into a series of suppressed coughs, but the corners of his mouth unconsciously turned up slightly, outlining a meaningful arc.
Senior sister... she truly lives up to her title.
As the most unfathomable representative of Cangmin Mountain, she indeed overestimated the average level of all participating sects.
Not everyone is a chosen one, nor can everyone possess the solid Nascent Soul stage cultivation of Ji Yunxing. In this Immortal Sect Competition, there are mostly ordinary cultivators with mediocre talent who have built their skills up over the years.
Qin Wu's icy expression softened slightly at this moment.
For someone who is truly useless, whether you use too much force or too little seems to be of little consequence.
Moreover, he will have plenty of opportunities to vent his anger for his senior sister during the subsequent sect-wide competition.
Yun Qian sighed softly again, a genuine sense of helplessness lingering between her brows. She had originally wanted to be like Qin Wu, decisively knocking her opponent off the stage in one move, a scene that would be both spectacular and satisfying. However, she had overestimated her opponent's strength. Had she known this, she should have gone even further.
She was exceptionally beautiful, and the look of utter helplessness on her stunning face did not make her appear dejected; instead, it added a touch of vibrant charm. She lazily propped her cheek up with one hand, tilted her head slightly back, and gazed aimlessly into the air.
For some reason, a sense of curiosity suddenly flashed through her mind—what was that fox… Lin Huaiyu doing at this moment?
On the high platform, Lin Huaiyu maintained a similar posture to her, except that he lowered his head slightly and stared intently at her.
Their eyes met unexpectedly once again in the air.
Lin Huaiyu narrowed her alluring peach blossom eyes, suddenly abandoning her usual casual posture, straightening her back, and even placing her hands properly on her knees, appearing quite obedient. Only a few unruly strands of hair still hung down her shoulders, giving her a slightly disheveled look.
Yun Qian was taken aback by his sudden action. The usually lazy and unruly fox was suddenly acting all docile? What was he up to?
The next second, the obedient fox curled its lips at her, revealing a triumphant smile, and then its figure vanished from the seat like smoke.
As a representative of the immortal sect, he dared to leave the arena at will during the competition, which was truly the height of willfulness and recklessness.
Meanwhile, on a secluded path somewhere in Tianyan Mountain.
The disciple who had just hurled insults at Yun Qian during their duel lost the match and was now walking around dejectedly, deliberately avoiding the area where his fellow disciples were gathered.
Lin Huaiyu's figure appeared silently in front of him, blocking his way, like a ghost.
The disciple was startled at first, but when he saw who it was, all color drained from his face. He instinctively tried to turn and run away, but found himself as if bound by invisible shackles, unable to move.
Lin Huaiyu's beautiful eyes narrowed slightly, and a strange and cold red light flashed from the depths of her eyes so fast that it seemed like an illusion.
A half-smile played on his lips, and his voice, soft as a whisper between lovers, carried a chilling undertone: "If you can't use your tongue, you might as well give it to someone who needs it."
As early as when he heard this man using foul language to smear Yun Qian on stage, Lin Huaiyu wanted to pull his tongue out.
The words had barely left his mouth.
The disciple's body stiffened abruptly, his eyes instantly becoming empty and lifeless, as if his soul had been ripped out. Immediately afterward, he felt a strange relaxation at the base of his tongue, as if some kind of support had suddenly disappeared, and his entire tongue, like soft flesh without bones, slumped limply and became completely out of control.
The disciple's face was instantly filled with extreme terror. He opened his mouth wide, trying to shout, but he couldn't even utter a sob. He could only feel a complete and despairing sense of loss.
He lost control of his tongue forever.
Lin Huaiyu casually raised his hand and smoothed the slightly disheveled strands of hair on his shoulder, his movements elegant and composed. After doing so, a hint of pleasure flashed in his eyes; he had been in such a hurry that he had forgotten to tidy his appearance.
Even if an insignificant ant from an unknown clan were to disappear from this world today, it would not cause the slightest ripple.
Moreover, he should remember for the rest of his life that before saying certain things, he should first consider whether he can bear the consequences.
Having easily resolved this minor trouble, Lin Huaiyu's figure vanished once more, and in an instant, he was sitting upright again in his chair on the high platform, as if he had never left.
Meanwhile, the competition on the Wuji Platform was still ongoing.
Standing on the stage at this moment is Baichuan.
His face was as pale as paper, his thin body trembled violently from coughing, and his breathing was erratic and weak, as if he would faint at any moment from being unable to breathe.
His opponent, a seemingly upright young cultivator, looked at Bai Chuan with obvious hesitation and struggle on his face.
In the end, his desire for victory overcame his compassion. He gritted his teeth, raised his longsword, and charged toward Baichuan.
The distance between the two quickly shortened, but Bai Chuan's coughing did not stop; instead, it intensified.
Just as the cold blade was about to touch Bai Chuan's brow less than three inches away, Bai Chuan suddenly bent over, coughing violently as if he were about to vomit up his internal organs.
And at that very moment.
The disciple charging forward with his sword seemed to be tripped by something invisible, staggering and completely losing his balance! The long sword in his hand deviated from its original trajectory and narrowly grazed Bai Chuan's cheek.
Baichuan, however, coughed incessantly as soon as he stepped onto the stage, and remained standing at the very edge of the Wuji Platform from beginning to end, without ever moving an inch.
And so, to the astonishment of all the onlookers, the disciple, due to this inexplicable accident, fell straight off the Wuji Platform in an extremely comical and embarrassing manner.
"..."
A deathly silence fell over the entire area below the Wuji Platform.
Only Bai Chuan's seemingly endless coughing echoed clearly in everyone's ears, appearing particularly jarring.
Even Bai Chuan himself showed a hint of surprise. He slowly wiped the blood from the corner of his lips with a snow-white handkerchief, then turned his head incredulously to look at his opponent who was lying on the ground, completely disoriented.
He can swear to God that he really did nothing.
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