Starting as the heir of a marquis's mansion, I gained access to a summoning system.

The next day, at Chen Shi (7-9 AM).

On the shores of the East China Sea, the rising sun casts golden rays across the boundless sea, making it shimmer and sparkle like countless golden scales leaping. The sea breeze, carrying a salty, damp scent, caresses the beach, causing countless banners to flutter and rustle.

A makeshift arena stood on the beach. The arena was made entirely of hard obsidian, thirty feet in circumference and about one foot high. Its surface was engraved with defensive restrictions personally set up by the King of the East Sea, enough to withstand a full-force attack from a Grandmaster without damage.

Around the arena, colorful flags fluttered in the wind. The golden Buddhist flag of Wanfo Temple, the blood-red demonic flag of Tianmo Sect, the sword flag of Siji Sword Sect, the green flag of Chu Family, the Dao flag of Zhenwu Dao Sect... dozens of flags intertwined to form a sea of ​​color. The seats of various forces were arranged around three sides of the arena, and every seat was filled with people.

On the highest viewing platform, the King of the East Sea sat in the main seat, his purple royal robes fluttering slightly in the morning breeze. He held a teacup in his left hand and gently tapped the armrest with his right, his face calm and a meaningful smile playing on his lips.

On either side of him, Master Liaoyin of Wanfo Temple, Elder Xueying of Tianmo Sect, Jian Wuming of Siji Sword Sect, Chu Tianxing of Chu Family, Qingyuan Zhenren of Zhenwu Dao Sect, Cao Zhengchun of the Imperial Court, and others took their seats, their eyes all fixed on the arena.

Below the stage, hundreds of disciples from various factions and independent cultivators formed a large circle, completely surrounding the arena. The air was filled with the clamor of voices and the constant buzzing of discussions.

"I heard there's a gauntlet match against Dongfang Weiwo today? How many rounds can that late-stage Grandmaster kid last?"

"It's hard to say. They're a formidable figure who climbed to the top of the Heavenly Ladder; even if their cultivation level is low, they definitely have many hidden strengths."

"No matter how many trump cards he has, he can't withstand a war of attrition. Chu Yunxiao and Mo Wuyai are both Grandmasters; how can he, a mere late-stage Grandmaster, possibly fight them?"

"Who cares how they fight? It'll be a good show!"

The King of the East Sea placed his teacup on the table and slowly stood up. His gaze swept across the room, his voice deep and resonant, silencing all the noise:

"The rules of the duel are as follows: each side will wager one treasure obtained from the great tomb, and the winner will take it all. Challengers must state their identity, and the challenged cannot refuse unless they offer a treasure of equal value in lieu. The Celestial Inheritance of Young Master Dongfang—" He glanced at Dongfang Weiwo in the Weeping Blood Marquis's camp, paused slightly, "...challengers must first demonstrate a treasure of equal value to be eligible to challenge."

"Now, let's begin."

His voice fell silent for a moment, then the room erupted into even more heated discussion.

The arena was empty.

But no one was in a hurry to go on stage—everyone was watching to see who would be the first.

After a moment of silence, a white figure leaped onto the arena first.

Ye Xingchen, dressed in snow-white robes, landed silently with a calm expression. He stood in the center of the arena, his hands behind his back, as if he were there to admire the sea rather than to compete in martial arts.

"I, Ye Xingchen, a rogue cultivator, am willing to offer a high-grade Earth-rank pill as a wager to learn from you all." His voice was gentle, yet it clearly resonated throughout the entire hall.

"Tsk, the rogue cultivators are quite enthusiastic." Someone in the audience whispered among themselves.

As soon as the words were spoken, a purple figure gracefully swept onto the arena, like a light, falling leaf.

Murong Qiudi was dressed in purple, with a graceful figure and stunning beauty. She toyed with a silver needle as thin as a cow's hair in her hand, a sweet smile on her lips, but deep within that smile lay a hint of coldness that was hard to detect.

"Murong Qiudi, I'd like to learn from you." She tilted her head slightly, looked at Ye Xingchen, and blinked. "Young Master Xingchen, we met briefly in the outer area before. Do you remember that spirit herb I had my eye on?"

Ye Xingchen's expression remained unchanged: "I picked that Silver Frost Grass first."

"Well, it's all about skill," Murong Qiudi smiled even more brightly. "So today, I'm here to prove myself through my own abilities."

Before she could finish speaking, she flipped her wrist.

Three silver needles flew out simultaneously, silently, like three streaks of eerie blue light, targeting Ye Xingchen's upper, middle, and lower body. The needles were coated with potent poison, gleaming with an eerie blue light in the sunlight.

Ye Xingchen's gaze sharpened, his body remained still, and he raised his right hand, bringing his index and middle fingers together.

"Ding! Ding! Ding!"

Three crisp metallic clangs rang out almost simultaneously. Three precise finger strikes landed on the silver needles, deflecting them. The needles embedded themselves diagonally into a crack in the arena's stone, the venom seeping in and hissing as it corroded.

"Such fast finger strength!" someone in the audience exclaimed.

Murong Qiudi's smile remained unchanged as she moved like a butterfly, gracefully dancing on the arena. Her hands flashed out, raining down silver needles that filled the air, densely enveloping Ye Xingchen. Each needle was coated with a different poison—some deadly, some paralyzing, and some corroding his inner energy.

The sky was filled with poisonous needles, forming a net that blocked all of Ye Xingchen's escape routes.

Ye Xingchen did not dodge.

He closed his eyes, then suddenly opened them.

With two fingers joined together, he flicked several finger strikes in quick succession, as fast as lightning and as precise as if calculated. Each strike hit a silver needle with pinpoint accuracy, sending it flying.

"Ding ding ding ding ding—"

A series of crisp collision sounds, like raindrops pattering on banana leaves, were dense and rapid. In just three breaths, most of the dozens of silver needles were deflected, and the remaining few were dodged by Ye Xingchen, flying past the hem of his clothes and embedding themselves in the stone surface behind him.

A hint of seriousness finally flashed in Murong Qiudi's eyes. She stopped, flipped her hands, and held a silver needle between each of her ten fingers, its purple light swirling around it—clearly her trump card.

"Young Master Xingchen, you have impressive skills." She smiled sweetly. "This move is called 'Thousand Needles'. Want to try it?"

Before he finished speaking, ten silver needles flew out at the same time.

However, instead of shooting directly at Ye Xingchen, they collided and refracted in mid-air, like living things, simultaneously shooting at various parts of Ye Xingchen's body from ten strange angles.

A gasp of surprise rippled through the audience.

Ye Xingchen's pupils contracted slightly, but he did not panic. He took a deep breath, condensed a solid stream of true energy at his fingertips, and then pointed out sharply.

The force of his fingers exploded in front of him, transforming into a circular barrier of true energy, like a transparent shield, blocking all ten silver needles from reaching him.

"Ding ding ding ding ding—"

The ten silver needles struck the qi barrier, sparking a few flecks, before falling limply to the ground.

Murong Qiudi's smile finally froze.

Ye Xingchen withdrew his finger, and the barrier of true energy dissipated. He stood still, his breathing steady, and not a single wrinkle appeared on his white robe.

"Miss Murong, shall we continue?" he asked calmly.

Murong Qiudi was silent for a moment, then burst out laughing. She put away the remaining silver needles in her hand, clapped her hands, and said, "That's enough, that's enough. I'm impressed by Young Master Xingchen's finger strength."

She jumped off the stage, glanced back at Ye Xingchen before leaving, and winked: "But I'll remember that. I'll try again next time we meet."

Ye Xingchen nodded slightly but did not reply.

He bowed respectfully to the four directions, then leaped off the arena and put the high-grade Earth-rank pill he had won into his pocket.

"Ye Xingchen wins." The voice of the King of the East Sea rang out, calm and majestic.

A round of applause and murmurs erupted from the audience.

"The rogue cultivator Ye Xingchen truly lives up to his reputation."

"That finger strike was both accurate and ruthless; Murong Qiudi's poisoned needles couldn't even get close."

"Interesting, today's competition is getting more and more exciting."