One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

His figure moved like lightning, covering three zhang in a single step. His right hand formed a seal in front of his chest, and a solid golden light suddenly burst forth from his palm—the golden light was purer and more refined than Zhang Chulan's earlier light, like liquid gold flowing in his palm! He struck out with his palm, the wind of his palm cutting through the air, aiming straight for Zhang Chulan's chest!

Zhang Chulan cursed under his breath. Before he could think any further, the dormant Qi within his body instinctively activated, and the Golden Light Mantra instantly covered his entire body!

"clang--!!!"

Their palms collided, producing a deafening clang like metal striking metal! Golden light scattered like fireworks exploding! Zhang Chulan felt an immense force surge through him, his chest tightened, and he staggered back three steps before barely managing to regain his footing, the gravel beneath his feet creaking loudly. The young Taoist priest also took a step back, a look of surprise flashing in his eyes.

The two men withdrew their palms and faced each other. The young Taoist turned to look at Zhang Lingyu and said respectfully, "Junior Uncle, it is indeed the Golden Light Mantra. Although the skill is still shallow, the foundation is pure, and it is indeed from the lineage of my Celestial Master's Mansion."

Zhang Lingyu nodded slightly and took two steps forward.

The moonlight fell on him, making his Taoist robe dazzlingly white.

"Step down," he said calmly, his voice devoid of emotion. "I'll take over from here."

"Junior Uncle, this person may after all be a descendant of my Celestial Master's Mansion, perhaps..." The Taoist on the left hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

"Step back." Zhang Lingyu repeated, his tone still calm, yet carrying an undeniable air of authority.

The two Taoist priests had no choice but to bow and step aside.

Zhang Lingyu's gaze refocused on Zhang Chulan. He slowly raised his right hand, his fingers slightly spread. Golden light gathered and swirled in his palm like flowing water, finally condensing into a fist-sized, almost tangible golden sphere. The oppressive aura emanating from that sphere made the surrounding air feel heavy and viscous.

Zhang Chulan's face turned pale, and fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead. He could clearly sense that the golden light spell of the Taoist priest before him was on a completely different dimension! If his golden light was a fragile eggshell, the other's was a thick steel wall!

Just as Zhang Lingyu was about to make his move—

A gentle breeze swept across the ruins.

The wind was gentle, yet it dispersed the oppressive tension in the air.

There was suddenly another person by Zhang Chulan's side.

His long hair was tied back in a ponytail, with a few stray strands falling across his forehead. He wore a faded tracksuit, and a long, rectangular object was wrapped in coarse cloth on his back. He stood there, his posture as relaxed as if he were taking a stroll in his own backyard, and he even lazily yawned, a few physiological tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

"Master Daoist," Nie Lingfeng rubbed his eyes, his tone still languid from sleep, "if you want to bully my brother, shouldn't you... ask for my permission first?"

His appearance was completely unexpected, like a ghost. Everyone present—including the ever-calm Zhang Lingyu—had their pupils shrink slightly.

The three members of the World Alliance were horrified and took a half-step back! They hadn't sensed any approaching presence at all! This person seemed to have grown out of the ground!

When Zhang Chulan saw Nie Lingfeng, he almost burst into tears, his voice trembling with emotion: "Brother Feng! You've finally arrived! These guys used sleeping pills! They even used fertilizer bags! They have no sportsmanship whatsoever!"

He instantly transformed into a frightened ostrich, darting behind Nie Lingfeng and peeking out only half his head, glaring at the other side with an angry yet cowardly look.

The contrast was so stark that Zhang Lingyu, the two young Taoists, and the three members of the World Society were all taken aback. Was the golden light spell that they had just received a palm strike just a collective hallucination?

Nie Lingfeng chuckled and patted Zhang Chulan's hand on his shoulder, then looked up at Zhang Lingyu, a half-smile playing on his lips: "Daoist, in principle, it's your Celestial Master's Mansion's business of cleaning up its own house... cough, I mean handling family affairs. As an outsider, I really shouldn't interfere."

He paused, then suddenly and without warning, raised his foot and kicked Zhang Chulan in the buttocks with a light kick!

"But!" his voice suddenly rose, "Zhang Chulan is my brother! I can't just stand by and watch him get beaten up!"

The kick was perfectly timed, and Zhang Chulan let out a miserable scream as he was sent flying uncontrollably toward Zhang Lingyu like a cannonball! He frantically tried to brake in mid-air but had nowhere to get leverage, so he could only grit his teeth and pour all his Qi into his right fist. Golden light instantly enveloped his fist, and he punched that icy face!

"Take this!"

Zhang Lingyu frowned almost imperceptibly, seemingly displeased with this near-rogue fighting style. But he simply raised his palm and lightly slapped the ground—a motion as casual as brushing dust off his clothes.

"Bang!"

The golden light on Zhang Chulan's fist shattered like fragile glass! A supple yet irresistible force sent him flying backward at an even greater speed, tracing an arc in the air.

Nie Lingfeng reached out and caught it steadily.

"The gap is too big." Nie Lingfeng shook his head, his tone tinged with regret. "Chu Lan, your Golden Light Mantra... you practice it like it's nothing."

"Nonsense!" Zhang Chulan clutched his aching chest, grimacing. "I haven't seriously practiced in over a decade! I'm lucky if I can even remember how to use it!"

Zhang Lingyu withdrew his hand, his snow-white Taoist robe sleeves perfectly intact. He looked at the disheveled Zhang Chulan, a faint, almost imperceptible hint of disappointment flashing in his clear, cold eyes:

"Does he just hide behind others?"

"Who hid!" These words pierced Zhang Chulan's sensitive nerve like a needle. He shoved Nie Lingfeng away, staggered to his feet, and his chest heaved violently with anger and humiliation.

"I've been hiding for over a decade!" he growled, his voice echoing through the ruins, a culmination of long-suppressed emotions. "I lived like a rat! Afraid of being discovered that I was different! Afraid of being seen as a monster! Afraid that my grandfather's secret would bring me death!"

Chaotic "qi" began to emanate from his body uncontrollably, and golden light flickered on his body, with tiny electric snakes faintly flowing within the golden light.

"But what about now?!" He looked up, his eyes bloodshot with agitation, staring intently at Zhang Lingyu. "Hiding is a huge problem! Not hiding is also a huge problem! Quanxing wants to capture me! Tianxiahui wants to kidnap me! Your Tianshi Mansion is going to interrogate me too! What the hell did I do wrong?! Just because my grandfather is Zhang Huaiyi?! Just because I have the 'Qi Body Source Flow' in my body?!"

He became more and more agitated as he spoke, and in the end he almost roared it out.

As his emotions erupted, the golden light around his body suddenly intensified! From the depths of the golden light, silvery-white lightning surged out like a tide, coiling around his arms and crackling loudly!

A flicker of emotion finally appeared in Zhang Lingyu's eyes: "Thunder magic?"

Zhang Chulan did not answer. He slammed his palms together in front of his chest, palms facing each other, fingers curled like claws! A violent, silvery-white electric light compressed and condensed wildly in his palms, emitting a piercing, teeth-grinding buzzing sound!

"Thunder Magic—"

He roared and suddenly opened his palms! A silver-white lightning bolt, as thick as an arm and dazzlingly bright, tore through the air like an angry dragon breaking free from its cage, roaring as it pounced towards Zhang Lingyu!

"Palm Thunder!"

A hint of seriousness finally flashed in Zhang Lingyu's eyes. He still didn't move, but simply raised his other hand. Palm facing up, fingers slightly curled.

The pitch-black, viscous "Qi," which seemed capable of swallowing all light, seeped, flowed, and gathered from his palm like ink.

The black lightning contrasted sharply with Zhang Chulan's silvery-white lightning, creating a chilling, somber, and ominous stillness.

"Thunder Magic—"

Zhang Lingyu parted her thin lips slightly, her voice still cold and clear.

"Yin Wu Lei"

He flipped his wrist and gently pushed his palm forward.

The pitch-black lightning surged out silently, without any ear-piercing explosions or dazzling light. There was only a viscous, writhing darkness, like a living thing, facing the silvery-white raging lightning!

Two bolts of lightning, one black and one white, of completely opposite nature, collided violently in mid-air!

"BOOM—!!!"

There was no sound—or rather, the sound was annihilated by the violent energy the instant it erupted! Only an extremely blinding flash of light suddenly exploded, illuminating the entire ruins as bright as day! Immediately afterward, a deafening explosion caught up! The shockwave exploded in a ring, the ground cracked, debris flew everywhere, and dust surged into the sky like waves!

Silver-white electric snakes and jet-black ink streams intertwined, tore, and annihilated each other wildly! Electricity coursed wildly across the ground, exploding into bursts of blue sparks! The air was filled with the pungent smell of ozone and a chilling, burnt odor!

The three members of the World Alliance were thrown back by the shockwave, hastily circulating their Qi to protect themselves. The two young Taoist priests also wore solemn expressions, their bodies covered in golden light spells, staring intently at the center of the battlefield.

Nie Lingfeng stood still, his clothes and long hair fluttering wildly in the raging thunderstorm, with tiny electric snakes even leaping between his strands. But his expression was unusually calm, and he even squinted slightly, feeling the current passing over his skin—the lightning that would knock an ordinary person into an instant shock felt like a faint tingling sensation on him.

The fire resistance granted by the Qilin marrow seems to have a remarkable effect on lightning as well? Or is it the protective aura of the Xuanwu True Scripture at work?

The lightning raged for nearly ten seconds.

As the blinding light gradually dimmed and the churning dust slowly settled, the scene in the center of the ruins became clear again.

Zhang Chulan knelt on one knee, his hands braced on the ground, gasping for breath, each breath accompanied by a burning pain in his lungs. His clothes were charred and torn in many places, his exposed skin was covered with tiny burns, and his hair stood on end, wisps of smoke rising from it. A trickle of blood escaped from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto the cracked ground.

And Zhang Lingyu...

His Taoist robe remained as white as snow, without a single wrinkle. His long hair was perfectly styled, held securely in place by a wooden hairpin. He stood with his hands behind his back, the moonlight bathing him, as if the terrifying thunderstorm just moments before had been nothing but an illusion.

Only the ground within a three-foot radius beneath his feet displayed a strange, charred black color, the traces of the Yin Five Thunder's erosion.

High judgment.

Zhang Lingyu looked at the disheveled Zhang Chulan, remained silent for a moment, and then slowly spoke, her voice exceptionally clear in the silent ruins:

"My name is Zhang Lingyu, a direct disciple of the current Celestial Master of Longhu Mountain."

He took something from his wide sleeves—a palm-sized, dark red invitation with gilded edges. With a flick of his wrist, the invitation transformed into a streak of red light, silently shooting towards Zhang Chulan. The speed was not fast, but it carried an undeniable air of authority.

Nie Lingfeng raised his hand, his index and middle fingers precisely catching the flying invitation.

It feels slightly heavy in the hand, with a solid texture. The cover features an intricate cloud and dragon pattern, with the four characters "Luo Tian Da Jiao" written in ancient seal script in the center. The characters are vigorous and powerful, with a subtle flow of energy. Inside, the pages are written in neat small regular script, indicating the time and place, and are stamped with the vermilion seal of the Celestial Master's Mansion of Longhu Mountain at the end.

"One month from now, at Longhu Mountain." Zhang Lingyu had already turned around, her voice carried on the wind, "Then, we will fight again."

"Wait a minute." Nie Lingfeng closed the invitation and looked up.

Zhang Lingyu stopped but did not turn around; the moonlight stretched his tall, straight back into a long shadow.

"Master Lingyu," Nie Lingfeng's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears, "I've accepted this invitation on behalf of Zhang Chulan. We will be there on time for the Luo Tian Grand Ceremony."

He paused, and a sharp, piercing smile slowly spread across his lips:

"However, tonight you tested my brother's cultivation with the Golden Light Mantra and Yin Five Thunders. Although it was in accordance with the rules of the Celestial Master's Mansion, it still caused my brother a lot of trouble. I am a protective person, and I will remember this debt."

He stepped forward, his gaze landing squarely on Zhang Lingyu's back:

"One month later, on Mount Longhu, before the start of the Luo Tian Grand Ceremony—Nie Lingfeng challenges Zhang Lingyu to a duel. Not for the position of Celestial Master, not for the Eight Extraordinary Techniques, but only for what my brother will suffer tonight."

As soon as he finished speaking, the ruins fell into a deathly silence.

Even the wind seemed to have stopped.

The three members of the World Alliance stared wide-eyed at Nie Lingfeng in disbelief—had this guy gone mad? He dared to challenge the Little Celestial Master of Longhu Mountain? That was one of the most recognized top talents among the younger generation!

Zhang Chulan forgot the pain and stared blankly at Nie Lingfeng's back.

Zhang Lingyu slowly turned around.

This was the first time tonight that he had truly "looked directly" at Nie Lingfeng. His icy eyes met Nie Lingfeng's smiling eyes, and the air seemed to freeze at the point where their gazes met.

Time seemed to slow down.

Five seconds.

ten seconds.

Finally, Zhang Lingyu nodded slightly and uttered a single word:

"it is good."

There were no unnecessary words, no emotional fluctuations, just like agreeing to an ordinary sparring match.

Having said that, he flicked his sleeve and, leading two young Taoist priests, slowly walked into the depths of the ruins. Under the moonlight, the three figures gradually blurred, eventually merging into the night, as if they had never existed.

Nie Lingfeng withdrew his gaze and turned to the three members of the World Alliance. His smile remained, but his eyes turned cold: "Gentlemen, the show's over. Aren't you leaving? Or do you want to stay... for a friendly spar?"

The crew-cut man's expression shifted repeatedly before he finally gritted his teeth and forced out a single word: "Retreat!"

Three dark figures retreated swiftly, disappearing behind the broken walls and ruins in a few leaps, like startled owls.

In the ruins, only Nie Lingfeng, Zhang Chulan who was slumped on the ground panting, and... remained.

"Little Feng! Chu Lan, my little one!"

Feng Baobao's voice came from afar, carrying a unique, flat tone. She was wearing a Pikachu-print onesie pajama and obviously ill-fitting blue plastic flip-flops. She came running over with a "pat-pat" sound, carrying her signature kitchen knife with a gleaming blade.

Not far behind her, Feng Shayan followed with a livid face—her once neat short hair was now disheveled, her top was torn in three places, revealing the black armor underneath, and there was a trace of blood at the corner of her mouth, clearly indicating that she had not gotten the better of Feng Baobao.

"Sister Bao'er," Nie Lingfeng greeted her, "Are you alright?"

"He's fine." Feng Baobao shook her head, her gaze falling on the slumped Zhang Chulan. She tilted her head and asked, "What happened to him? Was he struck by lightning?"

"Pretty much." Nie Lingfeng said succinctly, "I was taught a lesson by the little celestial master of Longhu Mountain using Yin Five Thunder."

Feng Baobao crouched down and poked Zhang Chulan's arm with the handle of a kitchen knife: "Still alive. He can breathe."

Zhang Chulan: "...Sister Bao'er, thank you for your concern. Next time you can use your hand to touch it, don't use a knife."

Nie Lingfeng handed the gilded invitation to Feng Baobao: "Sister Baobao, we can't stay at school for now. We need to give Chu Lan special training. We'll go to Longhu Mountain in a month."

Feng Baobao took the invitation, looked it over and over, then brought it to her nose to smell it. She then looked up, blinking her large, empty eyes: "Special training? Sure. I know how to train people."

Her tone was calm, but Zhang Chulan suddenly shivered, a sense of foreboding, stemming from biological instinct, creeping up his spine.

"Let's go," Nie Lingfeng pulled the grimacing Zhang Chulan up from the ground, supporting his arm. "Let's go find Third Brother and Fourth Brother first. We need to discuss the Luo Tian Grand Ceremony properly."

Feng Baobao naturally took Zhang Chulan's other arm.

And so, the two of them carried Zhang Chulan, who was covered in charred soot and unsteady on his feet, away from the ruins under the moonlight.

The moonlight cast the three people's shadows on the rubble, long, twisted, and strange, as if it were some kind of omen.

Supported, Zhang Chulan couldn't help but turn back for one last look at the battlefield ravaged by the thunderstorm—cracked ground, charred marks, and broken bricks. He then looked down at the heavy invitation in his hand, seemingly bearing the weight of a thousand pounds. Finally, he turned his head to look at Nie Lingfeng beside him, who remained calm as if he were just out for a night stroll, and at Feng Baobao on the other side, whose expression was perpetually blank, yet who could easily take down Feng Shayan.

The churning fear, anger, resentment, and confusion in my chest... suddenly subsided somewhat.

The road ahead remains shrouded in mist and fraught with danger.

But at least, he wasn't wandering aimlessly in the fog all by himself.

"Brother Feng," he said in a hoarse, low voice, "thanks."

"What are you thanking me for?" Nie Lingfeng looked straight ahead, his voice carried away by the night wind. "We're brothers."

Feng Baobao interjected, her tone matter-of-fact: "And the master too."

Zhang Chulan's lips twitched: "Sister Bao'er... can we move on from this?"

"No," Feng Baobao replied crisply.

"..."

Longhu Mountain, Luotian Grand Ritual.

A confluence of events, with a one-month window of opportunity.