Cultivation Is Money-Grabbing C34

Chapter 34: Victory – Sword Shakes History, Sword Deity Reborn

The second round of matches began.

Once again, the participants were split into two groups. Lian Mu was in the group that didn’t need to draw lots, so she stood to the side, waiting for the other group to pick their matchups.

Guan Shize was also placed in the non-drawing group, and he felt immense relief—at least he wouldn’t have to face Lian Mu as an opponent.

As long as nothing unexpected happened, Lian Mu was sure to advance. As for him… as long as he didn’t draw a particularly troublesome opponent, he had a decent chance of making it through as well.

Quietly, Guan Shize shuffled closer to Lian Mu, nudged her arm, and whispered, “Lian Mu, I’m a little nervous.”

If he didn’t make it through, where could he go in the future?

Thinking about the unknown ahead made him anxious.

Lian Mu was exchanging glances with Xu Xianxing and Bai Li Que when she suddenly felt someone touch her. Turning around, she saw that Guan Shize had somehow ended up next to her.

Lian Mu: “What are you worried about? You haven’t offended anyone. Even if you lose, people will still give you a dignified exit.”

Guan Shize, who had been hoping for some comfort: “…”

As they chatted, the results of the draw were announced.

The senior at the draw table began reading out names, calling out a long list before finally reaching Guan Shize. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, the senior called out the next pair of new disciples: “Match Seventeen, Lian Mu versus Di Xing!”

As soon as those words fell, the new disciples on both sides froze, and even Murong Yi, seated on Yun Platform, hesitated for a moment.

“…”

Xu Xianxing, watching from the sidelines, widened his eyes. “Ah!”

His exclamation immediately drew attention—sure enough, he also believed that Lian Mu wasn’t a match for Di Xing and had started worrying.

“Bai Li Que, you really called it,” Xu Xianxing said in astonishment.

On their way here, they had been betting on who Lian Mu’s opponent would be. Only Bai Li Que had guessed it would be Di Xing. At first, Xu Xianxing didn’t believe it could be such a coincidence.

Bai Li Que raised an eyebrow, a victorious smile in his eyes. “You both agreed—dinner’s on you when we get back.”

Xu Xianxing silently clutched his Spatial Pouch, sensing he was about to suffer a financial loss. He glanced at Lian Mu with a bit of sympathy, feeling slightly better—at least he wasn’t the only one losing money.

The surrounding disciples started discussing who would win or lose, but the people actually involved showed no change in expression upon hearing the match-up.

Guan Shize immediately turned to look at Lian Mu. “You…”

He couldn’t say it outright, but the words were written all over his face: What now?

Di Xing was undoubtedly the strongest among the new disciples. Lian Mu wasn’t weak, but her opponent had dual spiritual roots, which was a significant advantage in terms of talent.

Lian Mu said casually, “We’re already here, so what can I do?”

Her tone was light, as if this was an easy matter, carrying a hint of nonchalance and helplessness.

Guan Shize reminded her, “He has dual spiritual roots.”

“So what?” Lian Mu remained unfazed. “I ran into him, so I’ll just fight first and worry about the rest later.”

She sounded carefree, but in truth, she wasn’t happy about this at all.

It really was Di Xing.

According to their bet, she and Xu Xianxing had to pay for Bai Li Que’s meal. Since they had tricked Bai Li Que before, he definitely wouldn’t let them off this time.

Thinking about her wallet taking a hit, Lian Mu felt her heart ache.

Her mood soured, and even her gaze toward Di Xing grew colder.

Guan Shize had never seen Lian Mu look at someone like that before, but he found it quite encouraging.

If Lian Mu wasn’t afraid of facing an opponent with dual spiritual roots, what was there for him to fear?

“I believe you’ll win.”

And he would win too.

Meanwhile, things weren’t calm on Di Xing’s side either.

“She’s looking at you like that—does that mean she’s scared?” someone beside Di Xing asked.

Di Xing’s face remained cold. Without even turning his head, he replied indifferently, “At least she has some self-awareness.”

The person chuckled. “She barely scraped by against Senior Brother Shi in the last round. This time, you can avenge him and slap that arrogant face of hers to pieces.”

Di Xing said nothing. He simply picked up a fallen leaf from his shoulder, released it, and crushed it under his foot.

“You’re the only one among us who has fought against a demon before. No matter how strong that Lian Mu is, can she be stronger than a seventh-rank demonic beast?”

“I’ve heard of her,” someone else chimed in. “This isn’t her first time entering Gui Xian Sect. Years ago, she joined once before, but they say her spiritual roots were blocked, making it impossible for her to resonate with her sword.”

Di Xing finally lifted his gaze. “Blocked spiritual roots… a useless spiritual root?”

Could someone like that have really defeated Shi Qingxiong?

There had to be more to this.

But so what?

He had watched her fight Shi Qingxiong—her moves were a complete mess, thrown together randomly.

That flaw alone was enough for him to crush her easily.

“The match is starting.” Di Xing turned and walked toward the spectators’ area. “Let’s get ready.”

The second round had seventy-five matches in total, but since the participants had already been filtered through the first round, each match was set to last longer.

No one wanted to be the one eliminated.

The first seventeen matches weren’t particularly intense.

Guan Shize was in the fifteenth match, facing a nimble opponent who, fearing elimination, fought cautiously.

This gave Guan Shize an opening—since the other guy was careful, he could afford to be reckless, throwing himself into the fight without restraint, shamelessly entangling his opponent.

It was a tactic he had learned from Lian Mu, and sure enough, it worked. Before long, his opponent lost focus and was struck straight through the protective armor by Guan Shize’s sword.

After the match, Guan Shize approached Lian Mu, holding out the hilt of his sword. His excitement was written all over his face. He leaned in and said, “After you finish your match, dinner’s on me. I’ll also cover your pills for the next two months.”

Lian Mu bumped hilts with him using her sword, Fortune. “Good comrade. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

Guan Shize grinned. “I overheard something before my match—Di Xing is a clean freak. He absolutely hates getting dirty, and if someone messes up his clothes, he’ll be completely enraged.”

“Regardless of whether that’s true or not, be careful when you go up against him.”

Lian Mu asked, “Will he unleash his full strength if he’s enraged?”

Guan Shize nodded. “That’s right. He’s only just started cultivating, but his potential as a dual spiritual root cultivator is nothing to underestimate.”

Lian Mu’s eyes lit up. “Go grab me two handfuls of dirt.”

Her face practically screamed, I must piss him off.

Guan Shize: “…”

He had forgotten—Lian Mu’s brain just didn’t work like everyone else’s.

“Lian Mu, are you serious…?” Guan Shize hesitated.

“You don’t get it,” Lian Mu said. “When dealing with annoying opponents, even if I lose, I’d rather collapse on the ground than let him leave smiling.”

Winning or losing was one thing. Whether it would be disgusting or not was another.

Match Seventeen—the most anticipated fight—finally arrived.

The elders seated on Yun Platform were also waiting for this match, their gazes fixed on the arena.

On a jade throne, one elder smiled as he looked at Di Xing. “Di Xing has been under my guidance since he entered the sect. He has excellent talent. After a bit more training following this tournament, he’ll be ready for the next Immortal Sect Grand Competition.”

Murong Yi, seated to the left, raised an eyebrow. “You’re that certain your disciple will win?”

The elder hesitated, seemingly surprised that Murong Yi had spoken. He replied, “In the entrance trial, he ranked just below the eldest son of the Bai Li family from Suiqiu Peak.”

“Oh,” Murong Yi said, lightly flicking his folding fan. “Not bad.”

That didn’t mean Lian Mu couldn’t be just as strong.

The elder to the right: “?”

Why did that sound so strange?

Murong Yi said no more, and the other elders let the matter drop.

Di Xing entered the arena in spotless white robes, as pristine as the snow atop Hanlai Peak. Even as he stood, he meticulously wiped his sword clean.

Then Lian Mu stepped in.

She was dressed in the standard Gui Xian Sect sword cultivator robes, carrying only her sword.

But the moment she entered, all eyes were drawn to her hands.

Lian Mu smiled at Di Xing. “Brother Di, we meet again.”

Di Xing’s previously composed expression cracked. “…”

Her hands were covered in wet black mud, her shoes were caked in dirt, and her clothes were dusty, as if she had just rolled around in a field.

The stark contrast between her and the immaculate Di Xing was impossible to ignore.

The onlookers and other new disciples: “…”

Someone couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing on the spot.

A person like Di Xing—just one look at his attire made it clear he was a cleanliness fanatic, someone who couldn’t even tolerate a speck of dust on his sword.

Lian Mu deliberately got herself covered in dirt while competing against Di Xing—wasn’t this a deliberate move to disgust him?

So ruthless, this trick was too ruthless!

But they loved watching it.

Even Xu Qianxing was laughing so hard he nearly fell off his seat, completely disregarding his usual image as a composed and reserved Artifact Refiner.

Baili Que was stunned the moment he saw Lian Mu: “…”

He couldn’t even find the words to describe her approach.

She had precisely grasped her opponent’s weak spot while exuding an unmistakable air of cheeky provocation.

On the Yun Platform, Murong Yi: “…”

He silently used his silver fan to cover his face.

Now, it was the elder on the right’s turn to counter, saying meaningfully, “No wonder she’s your disciple.”

Murong Yi wasn’t exactly embarrassed, but he had a premonition—Lian Mu was probably about to stir up trouble.

And whenever she did, someone would undoubtedly suffer.

Murong Yi said coolly, “You’d better worry more about your own disciple.”

The gong sounded in the competition arena.

Lian Mu wasted no time, charging straight at Di Xing with her sword, now covered in black mud.

Di Xing was at a disadvantage from the start, dodging continuously, seemingly unwilling to make contact with her.

“A bit of a dirty tactic, but effective,” Luo Qianxue remarked.

Zuo Jue, beside her, glanced over. “Any move that suppresses an enemy is a good move. She’s smart, but… if she can’t capitalize on it, it’ll backfire.”

In the arena, after Lian Mu’s first wave of attacks, Di Xing realized that merely dodging wouldn’t work. He gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on his sword.

“You did this on purpose?” He blocked her sword and counterattacked. “Since you’re courting death, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

Di Xing was truly provoked this time. His attack patterns shifted immediately as he struck at her with full force.

He slashed at Lian Mu, who raised her sword to block, all the while smearing more mud onto him.

Back and forth, Di Xing’s entire outfit became filthy.

A vein bulged on his forehead as he gathered spiritual energy in his hand. No longer holding back, he unleashed his full strength in an instant.

“He’s improved since last time,” a senior brother commented.

“Dual-spiritual roots break through really fast.”

Below the platform, Guan Shize anxiously gripped his sleeve, staring intently at the fight.

Beside him, Xu Qianxing and Baili Que remained unfazed—Xu Qianxing was even snacking on melon seeds.

Baili Que asked, “How many moves will it take for Lian Mu to beat him?”

Xu Qianxing: “No idea.”

“Aren’t you very familiar with her strength?”

Xu Qianxing: “Yeah. But she never plays by the book, so my guess wouldn’t matter.”

“…”

Sure enough, just as Xu Qianxing said, Lian Mu didn’t follow conventional tactics. Most would avoid enraging a stronger opponent, but she insisted on doing the opposite.

Di Xing fought more viciously, but Lian Mu remained unfazed. This time, she dodged relentlessly instead, leading to a chase around the competition arena.

Di Xing was thoroughly enraged. Seizing an opportunity, he pressed down on Lian Mu’s sword, refusing to let go as he closed in, seemingly intending to overpower her by sheer force.

His sword was fourth-grade, fully capable of destroying hers due to the difference in rank. As he pinned her down, he concentrated his spiritual energy, preparing to shatter her weapon outright.

A normal person would have escaped immediately—but Lian Mu didn’t.

Murong Yi sensed something was off. To him, Lian Mu wasn’t foolish; she wouldn’t ignore such an obvious danger.

Seeing that she didn’t flee, Di Xing smirked. “I thought you were smart. Turns out you’re just average.”

Crack—!

A fissure appeared on Lian Mu’s sword.

Di Xing’s grin widened. “You lost.”

“Really?” Lian Mu had barely finished speaking when another crack split the sword.

Di Xing was just about to destroy it completely when his expression abruptly changed.

“What’s that smell? So foul!”

“Urgh—!”

The stench hit the audience too—someone immediately vomited.

Lian Mu blinked. “Brother Di, you’re holding up well. Truly a genius.”

Di Xing was the closest to her and thus bore the full brunt of the stench.

It was a putrid mix of rot, decay, and something faintly fishy.

Di Xing lasted only a moment before clutching his chest and dry-heaving.

A cleanliness freak like him had never experienced anything this foul. As he bent over retching, he exposed an opening.

Lian Mu didn’t hesitate—she drove her cracked sword straight into his chest armor.

The surrounding senior brothers, grimacing at the smell, hurriedly announced, “Seventeenth round, match seven—Lian Mu wins… ugh!”

Di Xing’s eyes widened in disbelief. “…Unfair! She used a dirty trick!”

“There were no rules against it before the match,” Lian Mu said, glancing at the senior brother.

The senior brother, struggling against nausea, confirmed, “Indeed, there weren’t.”

Though he was a collateral victim, the move wasn’t against the rules.

Support disciples came to carry Di Xing away. As they did, Lian Mu pulled out her sword and spoke before he left:

“Guess what my sword’s been through?”

Di Xing didn’t want to know, but Lian Mu spoke faster than he could leave:

“It’s been dipped in a latrine.”

Everyone: “…”

“Urgh—!”

Di Xing finally couldn’t hold it in—he threw up.