Chapter 208: The Burning Sun (Bonus Chapter for Patron Feijia Xiaosi

And in this short while, no one had stepped forward. Zhao Zhang glanced toward the literary arena: "Shall we call Shang Shang Huaitong?"

"Not yet. This young master Shang was specifically recommended by several instructors. I'll question him last, after careful consideration." Sui Sui Zaihua shook his head, then suddenly said, looking at the field, "Why don't I pick someone myself?"

Zhao Zhang blinked, quickly gesturing for him to proceed.

He followed the old man's gaze—and it was still Cuiyu's seat.

The girl who had just stunned everyone had already sat down, whispering with a young boy.

Sui Sui Zaihua pointed: "That young man there—could you please come forward and try?"

Pei Ye startled, looked up blankly. He stared at the elder, slowly raised a finger at himself, and stood: "Me? My lord?"

He asked aloud, but his body had already stepped forward.

"No."

"."

Pei Ye pulled his foot back, offering a polite smile.

Everyone had already recognized him during the sword trials; now, the relaxed crowd burst into synchronized laughter.

"The boy behind you," Sui Sui Zaihua said.

Pei Ye stepped aside. Behind him was Yang Yan's face, laughing heartily at him.

He froze.

The two boys moved identically—each boy, dazed to stupefied, pointed at himself as he rose: "Me? Me? My lord?"

Sui Sui Zaihua smiled and nodded: "Yes. Would you please come forward and try?"

Yang Yan looked flustered: "I—I practice the dao, My Lord."

Sui Sui Zaihua nodded: "You've handled a sword before, haven't you?"

"." Indeed, he had.

The elder smiled casually: "It's just a tool. If you don't wish to join the Yi Jian Academy, no one will force you. Just come up and try—it's nothing."

Yang Yan still looked stunned: "Then… yes, My Lord."

Pei Ye stepped aside. Yang Yan strode forward, stepped onto the field, and awkwardly bowed in all four directions. Then, relying on memory, he mimicked the motions and reached for the mirror's frame.

His eyes touched it.

Instantly, the mirror's substance flowed again, quickly turning dense, murky yellow.

The necks of the onlookers retracted.

Everyone had expected something extraordinary—after all, the elder had personally chosen him. They'd hoped to witness another glimpse of that brilliant clarity. Instead, it was just muddy yellow.

But what followed proved Sui's keen eye: before that murky yellow, the black substance showed its first sign of struggle. It writhed painfully, nearly motionless. Sometimes, with a blink, you couldn't tell which side was pressing over the other.

This lasted a full forty breaths. The black substance never gained any speed—it was fully swallowed by the mirror's yellow at the end.

Both were muddy yellow, yet his inner courage here was as different from others as a tiger from a hare.

Yang Yan opened his eyes. The dazed boy seemed to awaken only now, his confusion gone. He silently scanned the crowd, suddenly like a demonic tiger choosing its prey.

Then Yang Yan took a slow breath, stepped back from the mirror, and retracted the fierce edge he'd just been forced to reveal.

"Dependent Qi—All Control," the elder said.

The second All Control.

Or rather, the first person in the entire field to achieve All Control through Dependent Qi.

Yang Yan glanced nervously toward the eastern arena. Sui Sui Zaihua said nothing more, merely nodded and let him return.

Zhao Zhang smiled: "Sui my lord, your eye is truly sharp."

Sui Sui Zaihua shook his head with a smile: "If I truly had such sharp eyes, I should have pointed out that girl just now."

Zhao Zhang wouldn't let it go. He pointed at the field: "Today, Sui my lord must pick one more hero for Bowang."

Sui Sui Zaihua sighed: "You're truly insatiable, Zhao my lord. We already have one All Control—Xiang Jing—and you still want more?"

Zhao Zhang was about to speak again when a clear, melodious voice came from beneath the trees: "What if Cuiyu recommends another talent for the lord?"

They turned—and it was Li Li Piaoqing.

A strange feeling swept the crowd—two All Controls had emerged from Cuiyu's seat. Could there be a third? Was Cuiyu the only place in Bowang with any talent?

This wasn't about Bowang's face before the prefectural officials—it was about Cuiyu making Bowang look foolish.

Everyone turned. The girl had indeed pointed to the young man named Pei Ye—the one who had effortlessly won eight straight duels in the sword trial.

Honestly, after seeing Li Li Piaoqing and the dazed boy both achieve All Control, many now genuinely believed this one could too. A chorus of hopeful shouts rose.

Sui Sui Zaihua glanced at the literary and martial arenas: "This young hero seems well-known. Is he also a disciple of Cuiyu?"

"Ah?" Zhao Zhang was bewildered—he'd never seen this unfamiliar face.

Fortunately, the girl's crisp voice came again: "Pei Ye of Fenghuai County. No sect, no clan. A native of Bowang. He's currently in the city awaiting the Jin Qiu Wu Bi."

Then she paused, speaking clearly and earnestly: "Pei Ye is, without question, the most exceptional sword talent I have ever seen. Sui my lord, your academy's letter spoke of Bowang's brilliance and talent. In my view, those four words are not flattery or courtesy—they fit Pei Ye perfectly."

Her clear voice carried across the entire crowd. Amidst stunned silence, the Official Viewing Terrace erupted in both commotion and stillness.

The commotion came from the girl's unrestrained praise—bordering on fawning. It echoed Fang Fang Jidao's earlier line: "The lakes and seas swarm with snakes and leeches; only you are the dragon fish." She herself was the brightest figure here, yet willingly used her radiance as a stepping stone to elevate this boy—barely known, barely remembered—into the heavens.

Of course there was commotion—how could he be this strong? Could he truly be this strong?

The silence came from those who sensed the hidden blade beneath her words.

Bowang's brilliance and talent all rest on this boy—then what of you, young mistress? What of the dao-practicing boy who just achieved All Control? What of Master Zhang Zhang Mozhu? Most importantly—what of Shang Shang Huaitong?

Everyone knew the Yi Jian Academy's letter had named only Shang Shang Huaitong. Everyone knew "brilliance and talent" had been stamped upon Bowang solely through his name.

But now, the girl's meaning was unmistakable: if Bowang holds only one spark of divine favor, it rests solely on Pei Ye—not Shang Huaitong. If the Shaolong Sword Academy wants only one spot, it must be Pei Ye, not Shang Huaitong.

Even the most oblivious understood this struck at the core of Xiang Qijiao's interests.

The rivalry between Xiang Qijiao and Cuiyu was nothing new. But could this rustic boy, suddenly pushed forward by Cuiyu, truly rival the top talent of Bowang—Shang the First?

Sui Sui Zaihua's expression remained unchanged. He gestured for the boy to approach the mirror.

Zhao Zhang's expression softened. He sat calmly. He understood the martial feud, but would not interfere. The only phrase that truly caught his interest: "native-born."

Not a sect disciple. A true Bowang commoner.

He fixed his gaze, hoping the boy might bring forth a unique Bowang All Control.

After bowing, Pei Ye stepped before the mirror. Suddenly, Sui Sui Zaihua's voice came again from the east: "If you intend to join the Yi Jian Academy, you may first demonstrate two sword forms."

Clearly, the elder's famed eye for swordsmanship had sensed something.

But Pei Ye blinked, then said: "Forgive me, My Lord. I have no intention of joining the Shaolong Sword Academy."

Stunned silence spread across every face.

Everyone's mind froze at this ordinary sentence—as if a mouse had looked up at a tiger and said: "I'll spare you a slap today."

Who the hell are you?!

Li Li Piaoqing also looked up in shock—equally unprepared for the boy's words.

Sui Sui Zaihua blinked slightly, then smiled: "Then please proceed."

Pei Ye bowed once more, lowered his gaze to the mirror. For the first time, he had a close look at its material—not jade, not glass.

But a hazy, translucent substance, like amber resin.

This… was not his first time seeing such material.

Pei Ye stood stunned for a moment, glanced toward the eastern arena, then reached out and touched the mirror.

Instantly, he felt the world around him vanish—he stood alone on the suddenly darkened Official Viewing Terrace.

Pei Ye looked around in confusion. A hallucination?

And then? Where was the test?

He clearly remembered touching the artifact called "Jianxin Zhao," and then this vision had swallowed him.

He looked up at the sky. The illusion felt like fragile paper—any hand could tear through it.

That's it? What could this possibly test?

Then Pei Ye suddenly remembered the girl's words—within this, the subject loses all memory.

He smacked his forehead—Spring Longevity!

Since Spring Longevity had solidified in his dantian, he no longer needed to borrow from Black Ink. Now, it activated again—its divine power, unchanged even when confronted by the Immortal Lord's spirit call, completely repelled Jianxin Zhao's trial on his mind.

"Little cat! Block this!" Pei Ye cried out. He himself had the ability, but had never used it—he was unpracticed.

"Hmm." A calm reply. This time, Pei Ye truly felt the world around him vanish—many things disappeared.

His mind went blank. Along with it, a great mass of things he could no longer recall.

Even the concept of "loss" was forgotten.

He turned, looking around. Cold wind. Autumn trees. A waning moon. A dull, gray sky. The moon was slowly being devoured by an unknown shadow—as if blood leaked from its edge.

Pure, primal fear surged straight to his heart—no escape, no hiding. It was as if his flesh, stripped of its shell, had been laid bare before a pack of fanged predators.

He could not see them. Could not hear them. But their ravenous hunger pressed in.

His nerves tightened. Yet the boy showed neither panic nor fear—only slowly furrowed his brow.

He forgot who he was. Did not know his enemy. Could not recall any weapon or power. Yet deep within, a quiet truth remained: facing unknown danger, challenging mighty foes—this was the most natural thing in the world.

Just another time.

Then he looked down—and saw a sword on the ground.

Yes. This thing was a sword.

A strange force surged from within him, flooding his body. He bent, gripped it firmly.

The sword in hand, he felt himself refined.

A vast, foul stench seeped from behind—it had devoured the moon, and now came for him.

No need to think how strong the enemy was. The knowledge was etched into his soul—unstoppable. Even unfaceable.

Facing an enemy utterly invincible, merely raising one's sword is already true bravery; most people collapse and drop their blades the instant this feeling overwhelms them.

Yet to raise your sword and resist despite such despair and terror—that is "Yu."

How long this "Yu" endures separates each person into different tiers.

It will inevitably collapse.

Who can know they cannot win, yet still rise again and again, strive again and again, giving their utmost effort through each failure and despair until the final moment?

If someone can do this, that is 【Xue Jie Yu】.

This is the unyielding resolve that Sui Sui Zaihua kindly did not dissect, the resilience beyond the reach of Bo Wang's talents—the courage and confidence every Yi Jian Academy Dao Sheng possesses the moment they grasp their sword.

When Dao Shengs compete to see who endures longest, they are testing who can unleash greater power within the process of "Yu"—faith and courage are merely thresholds to enter; refusing to flee is merely a warrior's basic quality.

This is not something worthy of boasting; what truly commands heartfelt admiration is what kind of power you unleash in this battle of the heart—do you slay enemies, cut down generals, or seize the banner?

The stronger you are, the slower the black substance advances.

Those who endure beyond one hundred breaths in Shaolong Sword Academy are called "Divine Generals."

This is the full secret of Bu Wei.

At this moment, within the "Yi Jian Xin Zhao," the boy held his sword horizontally before his eyes, staring at it in a daze. Behind him, a shadow vast as the heavens had already surged forward.

It was a demon that could tear open the entire sky and rip the moon apart at will; its shadow filled heaven and earth, its stench like clouds and mist, and all this overwhelming power now converged solely upon the tiny Sister Guan Lu Terrace.

The Sister Guan Lu Terrace was but a grain of rice; the boy standing upon it was like a single speck of dust.

The shadow engulfed the Sister Guan Lu Terrace; he turned his head, revealing a calm and composed face, his eyes as still as autumn water, yet deep within them burned flames.

After recognizing the foe, his expression did not change. He stepped back, turned, and drew his sword.

These movements were calm and effortless, neither fast nor slow, as if demonstrating to a novice child. Yet the instant the sword tip met the shadow, a gale erupted from the deepest depths of the world, shattering and annihilating the shadow, the viscous stench, the darkness, the demon—all ill omens swept away like dry grass before a storm.

The great sun broke through the clouds, light shining for ten thousand li; the wild wind swept clean, the sky and sea purified.

Everything fell silent.

Pei Ye slowly opened his eyes.

On the Sister Guan Lu Terrace, the mirror known as "Yi Jian Xin Zhao" emitted a pure, blazing white divine radiance; it reflected nothing, merely resembling a most pure sun.

There was not a trace of black substance remaining upon it.

The entire arena was as silent as midnight.

I'm so damn awesome.

Still owe 32 updates. (Six hundred words short equals two more updates—pity.)

(End of Chapter)