Chapter 36 - A cup of tea

Feng Zhan stood frozen.

The cold tip of the sword hadn't broken skin, but it may as well have.

His breath came heavy. His hands, still gripping the spear, began to lower — slowly at first, then all at once, like even holding it up had become too much.

"…I lost."

His voice wasn't loud, but it's enough for everyone to hear.

The silence that followed was thick, almost unreal — as if the whole arena had been holding its breath, waiting to see if he'd try something else.

Lao Xie gave a small hum, pulling his blade back in one smooth motion and sliding it back into the sheath without flourish. His eyes, still calm and didn't gloat. But the faint curl at the corner of his lips made it worse — it wasn't the smile of someone proud of a win. It was the smile of someone who had expected it from the beginning.

Elder Mu stood and raised a hand. "The match is over. Winner — Lao Xie."

The arena erupted and obviously with not with cheers. Instead, It was a mess of whispers and gasps.

"…Wait, is that Lao Xie? The Little Mortal?"

"No way, it's impossible… I thought he was just—"

"Wasn't he the guy who supposed to have no talent in cultivating?"

"He used to get pushed around outside the Resource Pavilion…"

"I heard someone even spat at him once. Now he—he just—"

A few faces in the crowd turned pale. Some disciples who had laughed at Lao Xie in the past now looked at each other nervously. A few even took quiet steps back, as if distance could erase memory.

On the platform, Lao Xie gave a small stretch of his shoulders and dusted his sleeve like it had caught some dirt. His gaze swept lazily over the crowd — not glaring, not hunting, just… observing. It made it worse. Because it wasn't anger they saw in his eyes.

It was something that can't be expressed with mere words.

From the outer seating, Ling Ruxin finally broke her gaze away.

Her fingers rested gently on the edge of her sleeve, but she hadn't moved in some time. The emotions on her face were faint — thoughtful, quiet — but not cold.

"…He didn't use even a single technique," she said softly.

Elder Yao nodded, still watching the stage. "Mhmm."

"He could've ended it even earlier." Ling Ruxin said.

"Well, he technically did," Elder Yao replied, with a slight smirk. "In his own way."

Ling Ruxin looked back toward Lao Xie. Her voice was low, but certain. "Mhmm. I guess this much is expected… since it's him."

That earned her a sideways glance from Elder Yao.

She raised an eyebrow, curious. "Since it's him? Say, what really happened between you two?" she asked.

"How do you even know him? You're an inner disciple while he barely counts as an outer disciple."

"I don't know him that well," Ling Ruxin replied. "He just happened to save me a few times before."

"Saved you? Lao Xie?" Elder Yao blinked, clearly surprised. "Are we talking about the same Lao Xie?"

Before Ling Ruxin could reply, Elder Mu raised his hand from the platform.

"Match Seventeen has concluded — the winner is Lao Xie."

With that, the entire arena fell silent.

No cheers, no protests, only pure silence.

But for Lao Xie, it was expected. After all, what he had shown wasn't something easy to comprehend. A disciple once labeled talentless had just defeated a rising star of the outer sect in full view of everyone.

It was something unheard of since the founding of Silver Crescent Mountain Peak.

Perhaps he had just set his first record. And maybe more would follow.

Even Elder Mu, as seasoned as he was, had trouble hiding his surprise — though his composure remained steady. As someone with status in the sect, he naturally understood what's going on within the sect.

"…So, things are done here, right?" Lao Xie spoke up, casually breaking the silence. "Can I get going now?"

The tone wasn't rude, but it wasn't exactly respectful either. It sounded more like he was talking to a peer — maybe even a friend.

Elder Mu studied him briefly, then gave a slight nod in response.

Lao Xie tidied up his hanfu gently, then turned to step off the platform. But just before leaving, he glanced toward a certain section of the spectator seats… and raised his hand.

A slow, casual wave.

"…Did he just wave at you?" Elder Yao muttered.

"It must be the both of us, Elder Yao," Ling Ruxin replied softly.

Elder Yao gave a long sigh through her nose, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "The way you said that… sounds like you already know him, Ruxin."

Ling Ruxin looked ahead, her voice calm. "I could ask you the same, Elder Yao. Your tone earlier… made it sound like you do."

"Hah. Maybe I do," Elder Yao said with a half-smile. "Maybe I don't. That boy's a strange one. Hard to guess, even if you try."

Ling Ruxin lowered her eyes for a moment, thoughtful. Then, almost as if admitting something to herself, she spoke again.

"…He told me to come watch the match."

Elder Yao turned toward her, one brow slightly raised.

"I didn't think much of it at the time," Ling Ruxin added, "but now… I'm curious, too."

"Hmph," Elder Yao chuckled. "Now I'm really interested to hear what went on between the two of you."

She gave a little sideways glance, one corner of her lips curled. "What do you say? How about we talk over a cup of tea later? Just like how we used to."

Ling Ruxin surprised. But just for a moment.

She trusted and believed in Elder Yao that much. After all, They were once master and disciple.

"…Alright," she said. "Tea sounds nice."

With Lao Xie's match concluded, there was no more reason for them to stay. The next contestants had already prepared on the stage, but neither of them spared it a glance. Quietly, the two figures rose from their seats and made their way out of the Martial Hall.

It wasn't until they were halfway gone that whispers began to stir.

"…Was that Elder Yao just now?"

"Wait—did Lao Xie wave at her?"

"Who was the one sitting next to her? I've never seen her in the outer court before…"

"Look at her robes—those aren't standard outer disciple clothes. She's definitely from the inner sect."

The murmurs spread like wildfire. Faces turned. Eyes widened. More than a few disciples shifted uncomfortably in their seats, recalling the times they had mocked or dismissed Lao Xie not long ago.

Now they weren't so sure about what to think anymore. The name Lao Xie, once a target of ridicule, had suddenly become… something else entirely. Something that they couldn't ignore.