Chapter 543: The Ranking Battle Ends

On the evening of the third day, the final chime of the challenge slowly faded away.

The Flying Boat continued to move steadily above the sea of clouds.

The voice of the female cultivator surnamed Zhao drifted down from the top of the boat: "The Ranking Battle ends here. The Flying Boat has another twenty days of travel; everyone should rest and recover, and no further fighting is permitted."

Once these words were spoken, the entire Flying Boat felt as if a taut string had been pulled away.

On the fourth deck, someone let out a long breath and fell backward onto the floor, chest heaving, staring blankly at the low-hanging cabin ceiling above.

Someone else slid down against the ship's railing, regardless of their image, fished half a Bigu Pill they had been reluctant to eat from their bosom, and stuffed it into their mouth, chewing slowly and forcefully.

People on the third deck helped each other back to their Cultivation Rooms, nodding to one another as they passed, even if they had been fighting to the death just last night.

The rankings were set; there was no point in fighting anymore.

Everyone had exhausted most of their strength in the three days of slaughter and now only wanted to catch their breath.

Cheng Feng returned to the Cultivation Room and walked to Zhou Yanran's side.

Her injuries were recovering more slowly than he had anticipated; although Mu Qing had only used seventy percent of her strength in that punch, the Qingyuan Sword Body had overloaded its meridians while defending with all its might, and before the three-day period was up, she could not use martial arts, and even standing for long periods was difficult.

"You should focus on healing your injuries first and not go out for the time being," Cheng Feng said.

"That wouldn't be good, would it..."

Lying on the bed, Zhou Yanran felt her ears grow slightly warm at Cheng Feng's words.

A lone man and a lone woman, sharing a room.

………

"Oh my, Zhou Yanran, what are you thinking!! Rest well and recover quickly."

Cheng Feng also said at the right moment: "Your injuries won't allow you to walk around, and the cultivation environment on the second level is better; you will recover faster!"

Zhou Yanran closed her eyes and turned her head away, not daring to look directly into Cheng Feng's eyes, knowing she had misunderstood.

Her tail was tucked tight, her nose trembling slightly, and she agreed: "Mm."

After a moment of thought, Zhou Yanran asked softly: "How is she?"

Cheng Feng understood instantly; she was talking about Mu Qing.

"She is tougher than you," Cheng Feng said. "The Panshi Body recovers quickly; by tomorrow, she should be fine."

Zhou Yanran smiled and said nothing more.

After telling Zhou Yanran the news that the Ranking Battle had ended,

Cheng Feng leaned against the railing outside the door, watching the people on the deck below gradually disperse.

The Array Eyes on the third and fourth decks lit up one after another with a faint glow; that was people plugging their Jade Tablets back into their original positions, preparing to use the Spirit Qi to recover from their injuries in the time that followed.

The concentration of Spirit Qi on the boat had increased significantly compared to the previous two days; clearly, the two envoys were also intentionally giving everyone a chance to catch their breath.

Zhou Tieyi walked over from the direction of the number eight Cultivation Room, his left arm wrapped in a circle of gray-white bandages, emitting a faint scent of herbs.

He leaned against the railing next to Cheng Feng and let out a long breath: "Finally, it's quiet. If we kept fighting, I'm afraid this arm of mine would be ruined."

"Didn't you say you could still hold on?" Cheng Feng glanced at him.

"Being able to hold on and not wanting to fight anymore are two different things." Zhou Tieyi curled his lip.

"Now that the rankings are set, there's no point in fighting. I have to heal my injuries before we arrive, otherwise, I'll just be a burden once I enter the sect."

"That's a good thought," Cheng Feng nodded. "Once you enter the Shangqing Immortal Sect, the real competition will only just begin. The ranking is just an admission ticket; what happens later depends on one's own fortune."

Zhou Tieyi was silent for a moment, then said in a low voice: "Cheng Feng, there is something I want to ask you."

"Speak."

"Why are your attacks so ruthless?" Zhou Tieyi turned to look at him, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

"I'm not blaming you, I just feel... every move of yours isn't like an Ordinary Martial Artist.

Your style is like someone who crawled out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood."

Cheng Feng did not answer.

He looked out at the sea of clouds.

Night was beginning to fall, and the last wisp of sunset at the edge of the sky was being swallowed by thick clouds, like a piece of red silk being slowly pulled away.

"Before, when I didn't practice martial arts," he suddenly spoke, his voice very faint, "there were always people who wanted to bully me. Later, I just fought them directly. Because I was afraid that every time I struck, it would be my last."

After hearing this, Zhou Tieyi was silent for a long while before saying in a low voice: "My father once said that those who can survive in desperate situations all have an indescribable ruthlessness in them.

Cheng Feng, you are stronger than you think you are."

Cheng Feng glanced at him, did not respond, and only patted him on the shoulder: "Go back and heal. If you move that arm around anymore, you won't even be able to hold a Sword when you enter the sect."

Zhou Tieyi grinned and waved his right hand: "I'm not left-handed anyway."

As he said this, he turned and walked toward his Cultivation Room, then turned back halfway: "By the way, what do you plan to do about that Qin Jiu?"

"Why would I do anything about him?" Cheng Feng countered.

"That bastard is very devious. He suffered a huge loss at your hands this time, and he will definitely hold a grudge once he enters the sect. If you don't strike first, you'll have trouble later."

Cheng Feng shook his head: "The Ranking Battle is already over. As long as he doesn't come to provoke me, I have no interest in chasing anyone down.

You, on the other hand, should be more careful when you're alone. Someone like him, if he can't deal with me head-on, might try to get back at me through you."

Zhou Tieyi's expression changed slightly, but he still said toughly: "If he dares to come, my fists aren't just for show."

Cheng Feng did not expose him, only watching him enter the Cultivation Room.

The boat gradually quieted down. The night wind passed through the sea of clouds, carrying a hint of chill.

Cheng Feng stood by the railing for a while longer and was just about to turn back to his room when he suddenly caught sight of a thin, long black shadow emerging from the shadows at the end of the third deck.

It was Mu Qing.

She had changed into a clean, dark gray martial outfit, her hands hanging at her sides, with thin cloth strips wrapped around her knuckles.

Her footsteps were very light, as if she were afraid of startling others. She walked to the stairs of the second level, looked up and saw Cheng Feng, paused for a moment, and then continued to step forward, walking up at a steady pace.

As the two brushed past each other in the corridor, Mu Qing suddenly spoke: "Wang Ji's injuries, did you treat them?"

Cheng Feng turned his head: "Yes."

"I heard you know medicine." Mu Qing's voice was not loud, her tone as calm as usual. "The wound on my shoulder is a bit troublesome. Can you take a look for me?"

Cheng Feng was somewhat surprised, but quickly nodded: "Come in and speak."

Mu Qing followed him into the No. 3 Cultivation Room. Zhou Yanran was leaning on the bed; seeing Mu Qing enter, she was slightly stunned, then nodded, saying nothing.

Mu Qing also nodded toward her, counting as a greeting.

Between the two women, separated by a distance of half a zhang, there seemed to be undercurrents surging in the air.

Cheng Feng took silver needles from his leather pouch, first passing them over the fire.

Mu Qing loosened the clothing on her right shoulder, revealing half of her shoulder and neck. There were three sword wounds on her shoulder, the deepest reaching the bone, and the edges of the wounds were tinged with an unnatural bluish-purple, clearly not ordinary external injuries.

"Zhou Yanran's sword intent has entered your body." Cheng Feng understood after just one glance.

"Sword-attribute True Qi remains in the wound, hindering healing. If it isn't drawn out, this injury could drag on for half a month."

Thanks to the Ghost Doctor Book, Cheng Feng still had a method for dealing with True Qi.

Mu Qing nodded: "That's what I meant. How do we do it?"

"It will hurt," Cheng Feng said.

"I've already fought, so what's there to fear from this?" Mu Qing said coolly.

Cheng Feng did not dawdle; with one needle, he pierced exactly half an inch from the outer edge of the wound.

Mu Qing's shoulder muscles twitched violently, but she made no sound. Cheng Feng placed three needles in succession, the ends of the needles vibrating slightly, drawing the residual sword intent within her body outward.

A few wisps of cyan airflow, as thin as hair, seeped out from the needle holes, carrying a very faint sound of sword humming, like a trapped beast escaping its cage.

"Your Panshi Body is very tough, but your meridians are not particularly wide. Don't forcefully endure similar attacks in the future; relying on your physique to take damage head-on will lead to trouble sooner or later." Cheng Feng said while applying the needles; at this moment, he was like an old physician who had been treating patients for many years.

Mu Qing was silent for a moment, then said: "You even understand Different Bodies?"

"I don't." Cheng Feng shook his head. "I'm self-taught; I've just seen enough to understand a few tricks."

Mu Qing said nothing more.

After half a stick of incense, Cheng Feng removed the needles, took a small porcelain bottle from his waist, and poured out some grayish-white medicinal powder, sprinkling it onto her wound.

The wound closed up a bit at a speed visible to the naked eye, and the bluish-purple color also faded somewhat.

"Thanks." Mu Qing pulled up her collar, stood up, and glanced toward Zhou Yanran. "This time is a matter between the three of us. Once we enter the Immortal Sect, there is no need to hold a grudge."

Zhou Yanran smiled slightly: "That is exactly my intention."

Mu Qing nodded, turned, and walked to the door, but suddenly stopped. With her back to Cheng Feng, she said: "Your third place should be quite secure."

Cheng Feng raised an eyebrow: "Why say that suddenly?"

Mu Qing turned her head, her cold, stern profile looking like a stone carving in the dim light: "You treated Wang Ji's wounds to win her over."

"You treated my wounds, also to win me over."

"Someone who can see this far from the first day of the Ranking Battle will not fail to secure their position."

The door closed, and the room became quiet again.

Cheng Feng sat on the meditation cushion, looking down at the undried marks on the silver needles, and let out a soft breath.

It was true that he treated the wounds, and it was also true that he wanted to build good relations.

Mu Qing had pointed it out, and he didn't mind.

On this ship, no one who could make it to the top twenty-five was a fool.

People with ability are always able to eat the sweet fruit.

He only cared about doing his own job well.

Over the next two days, not a single fight occurred on the Flying Boat.

Those with injuries went into seclusion, and those without injuries mostly sat in meditation in their Cultivation Rooms; occasionally, someone would walk onto the deck for air, only to stare blankly at the sea of clouds.

The entire Flying Boat became rarely quiet, and even walking was much lighter than the previous two days.

Cheng Feng spent most of his time in the No. 3 Cultivation Room, circulating the Dragon Snake Nine Transformations to strengthen himself.

He was clear that his third-place ranking was sufficient on the Flying Boat, but once placed within the Shangqing Immortal Sect, it probably wouldn't even count as a ripple.

Zhou Zhong, the gray-clothed youth, and even Mu Qing, Bai Wugou, and Lu Zhen would not wait for him in place.

The sea of clouds outside the Flying Boat gradually turned from white to gold, and then from gold to a boundless galaxy.

Not knowing how long they had flown, Cheng Feng suddenly felt the ship's hull pause slightly, as if it had sailed from a turbulent current into calm water.

He opened his eyes and heard the voice of the female cultivator surnamed Zhao from the bow: "Arriving at the Shangqing Immortal Sect tomorrow afternoon."

Cheng Feng slowly tightened his grip on the Jade Tablet in his hand.

What was meant to come was finally about to arrive.