3;RIVALRY

The grand arena, carved from ancient stone and bathed in the warm glow of a mid-morning sun, hummed with anticipation. The crowd, a vast sea of excited faces, leaned forward in their seats as the warriors of the Immortal and Celestial clans descended into the arena, their footsteps echoing against the stone with a steady rhythm. The towering stands shook with the weight of expectation, while banners fluttered in the wind, bearing the insignias of the most powerful clans from the Azure Domain and beyond.

Among the competitors, each step forward seemed to carry the gravity of a thousand years of rivalry. These were no ordinary warriors—they were the most gifted from their respective clans, and the air around them crackled with their suppressed energy.

Yang Feng stood at the top of the grand stone steps that led into the arena, arms crossed over his chest. His sharp eyes scanned the field below, calculating with the cold precision of a seasoned warrior. Every movement, every flicker of energy was analyzed in a matter of seconds. His focus honed in on the contestants as they assembled below.

**Qi Masters**—those warriors who had reached the pinnacle of Qi Tu—stood confidently near the center of the battlefield, their auras radiating brightly, though not enough to cause Yang Feng to pause. There were **Qi Adepts**, their energy fluctuating just below the level of a Qi Master, each one trying to keep their composure under the weight of expectation. But Yang Feng's gaze moved past them. They weren't the real threats.The **Qi-sages** weren't that much and in total they were 7,4 cellestials and 3 immortals.

It was the two **Qi Lords**, himself and Xiao Mei, that would decide the flow of this battle. Only they possessed the skill and power to tip the scales of this competition. Xiao Mei, the Celestial princess, stood poised near the opposite edge of the arena. Her pink hair swayed gently with the breeze, her brown eyes fiercely assessing the scene below with the same cold calculation that Yang Feng employed.

Ling Bing, standing beside Yang Feng, noticed the synchronicity in their movements. He watched as both Xiao Mei and Yang Feng scanned the competitors, their expressions nearly identical—fiery determination set ablaze in their gazes. It was as if the two of them were locked in a private battle, a contest of will and intellect that had already begun before a single move was made.

"They're so alike…" Ling Bing murmured to himself, raising an eyebrow. The way Yang Feng's eyes narrowed slightly, matching Xiao Mei's intense focus—he could see it, the unspoken rivalry between them.

Yang Feng's posture shifted slightly as he took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. His eyes flickered back to Xiao Mei for a brief moment. She was doing the same thing—analyzing the arena, measuring their opponents, and calculating every possible scenario. For a brief instant, their eyes met, and something passed between them, a silent acknowledgement of each other's strength.

Ling Bing, watching the scene unfold, couldn't help but grin. "You two are in sync. It's almost scary, you know?" He tilted his head, looking over at Yang Feng with a smirk. "Are you sure you don't want to go say hi to your princess?"

Yang Feng ignored the comment. His mind was on the upcoming battle, but the fire in his eyes blazed just a little brighter. His jaw clenched, and after a few more seconds of silent calculation, he turned to Ling Bing. "Let's go."

Ling Bing, caught off guard, blinked in confusion. "What? That's it?" He stared at Yang Feng incredulously. "You're not going to say goodbye to your beautiful fan first?"

Yang Feng's expression remained stoic, but Ling Bing was having none of it. He let out a dramatic sigh and clutched his hands together in mock adoration. "Ohhhh, my Yang Feng," he said in a high-pitched voice, pretending to be Xiao Mei. "Why didn't you say goodbye to me? Why didn't you tell me you care?"

Yang Feng's lips twitched slightly, but he remained focused. "You should worry about your own fans, Ling Bing, instead of badmouthing Xiao Mei."

At that, Ling Bing grinned, turning his gaze to the crowd where a chorus of enthusiastic shouts rang out. "Ling Bing! We love you!" they cried. Several women in the stands waved brightly colored banners with his name written in elegant script, while others screamed his name as if he were the only warrior in the arena.

One particularly bold woman's voice cut through the din. "Draw us naked sometime, Ling Bing!"

The grin slid from Ling Bing's face as he looked down at the crowd, his mood plummeting in an instant. "Oh... them," he muttered with an exaggerated sigh. "I forgot about them." His shoulders sagged as he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly deflated by the reminder of his rather... unique fanbase.

But before Yang Feng could respond, Ling Bing's eyes went wide. "Uh-oh," he muttered, voice trembling slightly.

Xiao Mei was heading their way, her confident stride drawing the attention of the surrounding warriors as she approached. Ling Bing, ever the coward when it came to serious confrontations, tried to stand a little straighter, brushing off his earlier antics. His demeanor changed entirely, adopting a far more serious stance, though his discomfort was palpable.

Yang Feng remained still as Xiao Mei approached, her pink hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of silk, her movements graceful and fluid. When she stopped in front of him, her brown eyes locked onto his.

"How are you doing, Yang Feng?" she asked softly, her voice carrying an undercurrent of intensity that matched the fire in her eyes.

"I'm fine," Yang Feng replied, his voice steady. His eyes didn't waver from hers, and the tension between them was palpable. It was a moment charged with something unspoken, something neither of them would say aloud.

Xiao Mei extended her hand, her expression softening ever so slightly. "Good luck, then."

Yang Feng looked at her hand for a moment before taking it. Her grip was firm, stronger than he expected, and he felt the faint tremor of power that lingered in her touch.

"You too," he said, his tone serious, though there was a flicker of something else in his eyes.

As they shook hands, Xiao Mei leaned in just enough to make sure only he could hear her next words. "Don't hold back."

Yang Feng's lips curled into a faint, confident smile. "Not one bit."

With that, Xiao Mei let go of his hand and turned, walking away with the same grace that she had arrived with. Yang Feng watched her go, his gaze lingering on her back. For a moment, he glanced down at his hand—it trembled, ever so slightly, still tingling from the power he had felt coursing through her grip. "She's gotten stronger," he murmured under his breath, a note of respect in his voice.

Ling Bing, who had been frozen in awkward silence during the exchange, finally exhaled, releasing the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Why does it always feel like there's something between you two?" he muttered, shaking his head. "And did you notice how strong she's gotten? I mean... I wouldn't want to fight her."

Yang Feng didn't reply. Instead, he took a step forward, his eyes focusing on the battlefield ahead. "Time to begin."

Without warning, Yang Feng moved. His speed was blinding, a blur of motion as he darted into the arena, leaving Ling Bing gaping behind him.

As Yang Feng reached the edge of the arena, he used his telekinesis to send a message to Xiao Mei: *Keep up.* It was a taunt, a challenge that carried across the battlefield like a whisper in the wind.

Xiao Mei's response was immediate. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then—without warning—her entire form dissolved into a swirling mass of sakura petals. The delicate pink flowers filled the air around her, dancing on an unseen breeze, their beauty masking the deadly power that she wielded.

The crowd gasped in confusion as both Yang Feng and Xiao Mei seemed to vanish. The arena, once filled with the noise of battle, fell eerily silent. Neither Yang Feng nor Xiao Mei could be seen, and the remaining warriors on the field glanced around in bewilderment, unsure of what had just happened.

The crowd fell silent, watching in stunned confusion as both Yang Feng and Xiao Mei seemed to vanish from the arena. Conversations began to stir amongst the spectators, their voices a low hum of uncertainty. "Where did they go?" one asked. "Did they teleport?"

Ling Bing, standing alone near the edge of the arena, scratched his head, utterly baffled. "What the...?" He scanned the arena, but neither Yang Feng nor Xiao Mei were anywhere to be seen"Yang feng,what the hell...." Ling bing screamed as he leapt forward himself.

From his seat high above the arena, the Realm King leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he watched the battlefield. His hand gripped the armrest of his throne tightly, knuckles turning white. "Yang Feng..." he hissed through clenched teeth, his voice filled with barely restrained fury.

One of the Domain Rulers, seated beside him, noticed the change in his demeanor and turned to him with concern. "Your Majesty, is something wrong?"

The Realm King forced a tight smile, though it did little to mask the anger simmering beneath the surface. "Nothing at all," he replied coldly. His gaze returned to the battlefield, where the sakura petals still danced in the air, and his hand clenched even tighter.

The other Domain Rulers exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the tension but knowing better than to question further.

The Realm King's smile twisted into something darker as he muttered under his breath, "Nothing... at all."