Su Xiaomei looked eager to get started, but she didn’t act right away.
Her big eyes flickered, and she cupped her hands and said, “After you,” then remained perfectly still.
For some reason, Shuo Feng also chose not to act. He similarly stood there, motionless, for a long while.
Zhang Haobo watched the two of them with suspicion, unsure what game they were playing.
After a long time, a trace of awkwardness appeared on Shuo Feng's face. "Xiaomei, didn't you say you wanted to fight me? Why aren't you making a move?"
Su Xiaomei answered with complete seriousness, "My elder brother often teaches me that when traveling the world, one must respect the elderly and cherish the young. You are so much older than me, so of course I must let you strike first before I counter!"
Shuo Feng seemed stunned by Su Xiaomei's words, pausing for a moment.
Then, his expression turned solemn. "I understand your intent. However, I can barely be considered an elder to you, so of course I should yield to you, Junior."
"You should make the first move!"
"No, no, no, you first..."
"You first!"
***
Zhang Haobo’s expression grew increasingly odd as he watched this bizarre back and forth of mutual deference.
This Shuo Feng...
Recalling how he had constantly provoked Shen Yurou earlier, and the flicker of disappointment that had crossed his face when he showed no intention of fighting, a faint understanding dawned on Zhang Haobo.
"Alright, it seems you've seen through it, Xiaomei. The technique I cultivate is somewhat special." Seeing the stalemate persist after a while, Shuo Feng stopped hiding it.
He confessed frankly, "I cannot make the first move; I must wait for others to attack me. So, please, Xiaomei, you go first."
Su Xiaomei wore an expression that said “I knew it,” looking rather pleased with herself. But immediately after, she turned serious.
A faint layer of crimson flames flickered to life around her body. She was actually using her Foundation Establishment Curio, the Spirit Raging Fire, right from the start.
The air warped, and in an instant, Su Xiaomei vanished from her spot.
Simultaneously, six identical figures appeared around Shuo Feng.
All bore Su Xiaomei's likeness, but each wore a different expression: Joy, Anger, Sorrow, Fear, Contemplation, Worry.
Correspondingly, the flames wreathing their bodies manifested in different colors.
The six clones closed in on Shuo Feng, each launching a close-quarters strike—fist, palm, finger, leg, elbow, and shoulder.
Interwoven with flames of myriad hues, their attacks were about to land.
At that instant, Shuo Feng’s voice rang out. “All flash, no substance!”
A streak of white light cut through the air, tracing several jagged lines.
Boom!
It was impossible to tell what had occurred, but in that split second, all six of Su Xiaomei’s clones were struck.
They hung suspended in the air for a brief moment before a series of sonic booms erupted, and they were blasted backward at a terrifying speed.
"Is that all..."
Before Shuo Feng could finish speaking, the six clones that had just been blasted away suddenly vanished.
In the next instant, they reappeared at his side, their speed undiminished—only their trajectory altered. Once more, they charged straight at him.
Another flash of white light erupted, and the six clones were hurled away again, this time even faster than before.
But it was futile.
A heartbeat later, Su Xiaomei’s clones returned, wreathed in roiling flames, closing in at an even more terrifying speed.
They were met with yet another blinding flash of white light, and were sent flying once more.
The battle fell into a relentless cycle.
With each repetition, the clones attacked faster, and the white light flashing from Shuo Feng’s position grew ever more frequent.
After watching for a long while, Zhang Haobo finally discerned the trick: that white light was a sword—a wooden sword.
Each time the white light flashed, the wooden sword would appear, and Shuo Feng would give Su Xiaomei’s clones a gentle tap with the flat of the blade.
Such speed... Zhang Haobo’s heart trembled.
Judging by Shuo Feng’s utterly relaxed demeanor, he was clearly not using his full strength. Even so, the power he displayed was utterly terrifying.
Zhang Haobo knew that if he were in Su Xiaomei’s place, he would be defeated within these few brief exchanges.
However, Xiaomei doesn’t seem to be going all out either...
At the center of the battlefield, Shuo Feng seemed to grow tired of this game.
“Not bad. But this ends now!”
His expression turned serious. This time, he used the blade’s edge.
White light flashed, slicing through all six clones in the blink of an eye. Countless silver lines were drawn across the clones’ bodies.
Instantly, the clones were carved into countless fragments, scattered across the ground. Yet, neither Zhang Haobo nor Shuo Feng showed any change in expression.
“Hehe!”
“Woowoo!”
“Ah!”
All sorts of noises rose from the fragments.They squirmed on the ground, crawling toward one another, as if possessing consciousness. Moments later, they had reassembled into six clones.
After this “resurrection,” their individual expressions seemed a touch more vivid.
“Interesting.” Shuo Feng, once again surrounded, finally showed a hint of seriousness on his face.
Six identical wooden swords materialized around him in an instant. Each met one of Su Xiaomei’s six clones.
While the swords held the clones at bay, Shuo Feng’s gaze swept his surroundings, as if searching for something.
A moment later, a faint smile touched his lips.
In the next instant, Shuo Feng appeared six zhang to the left, facing a seemingly empty spot.
Another wooden sword appeared in his hand, and he gave a light swing forward.
A hidden figure was abruptly forced into the open by Shuo Feng’s strike.
However, in the very next second, the smile vanished from Shuo Feng’s face.
Because the expression on this hidden figure’s face was one of pure worry. It was not her true self, but the clone of Worry!
After shattering the clone with a slash of his sword, Shuo Feng looked back toward where the other six had been.
He saw Su Xiaomei’s true self playfully wink at him.
Shuo Feng’s face remained impassive. The six wooden swords flashed, instantly bisecting the six figures.
“Where else can you run to?” Shuo Feng narrowed his eyes, looking at the fragments of all seven figures.
As if in response to his words, Su Xiaomei’s voice rang out behind Shuo Feng. “Run? I’ve been right here from the start.”
Her eyes turned crimson. All the fragments littering the battlefield vanished, returning to her true self.
Six different expressions flickered rapidly across her face, finally settling on rage.
Then, her aura surged violently as her innate divine ability activated. The crimson in her eyes spread, dyeing her hair red as her power erupted eightfold.
Su Xiaomei’s fist slammed hard into Shuo Feng’s body!
Yet, a ripple of light flowed across the blue cloth robes he wore.
He did not move an inch. Only the hem of his garment swayed slightly.
Shuo Feng’s expression did not change in the slightest. Only a sword silhouette abruptly flashed into being in his eyes.
Right then, Su Xiaomei let out a series of sighs. “I’m done! This is pointless!”
Shuo Feng paused. Then, he turned to look back toward the direction of Shixi Mountain, from where they had come.
Between heaven and earth, the world seemed to brighten for an instant.
A sword light shot away into the distance.
Boom!
A distant rumble and a muffled grunt echoed faintly, as if it had struck something.
Watching a few peach blossom petals drift slowly down in the far distance, Shuo Feng snorted coldly, closed his eyes, and sheathed his sword.
***
Within the Tianxuan Mirror, Li Fan, who had witnessed the entire battle, could not help but murmur a word of praise.
“Fine swordsmanship!”