Chapter 90: This Duel Has No Winner

The onlookers had all been watching the extraordinary Xie Shaoxia, but those with sharp eyes noticed movement beside him.

Zhang Huaiyu, seated nearby, grew increasingly dazed, his gaze fixed on some spot before him.

His right hand rose several times, then lowered, but finally reached out to brush lightly against the edge of the Echo Drum, touching an invisible cheek.

But clearly, obsession was illusion—only by seeing through it could one avoid being pierced; the phantom had no texture.

Zhang Huaiyu snapped out of his trance, glancing left and right, realizing the other four were still struggling—his expression betrayed a flush of embarrassment:

“I must be a lecher… Huh?!”

Seeing Xie Jin’s grim, murderous stare fixed on him, Zhang Huaiyu startled:

“What’s wrong, Young Master Xie?”

The beautiful woman, still conjuring illusions, quickly explained:

“Young Master Xie’s heart is too upright—he may have seen a demon.”

“Oh? Really?”

Zhang Huaiyu was stunned, realizing no one was paying attention to him—he rose quickly and stepped aside to watch.

No one had expected Zhang Huaiyu to be the first to fall, but now no one had the attention to care—they kept watching Xie Jin.

And Xie Jin was suffering far more than the spectators imagined.

Xie Jin stared at Hou Jiye, the chief steward, sprawled on the ground, his buttocks thrust toward him, shaking violently—he was nearly possessed.

He even wanted to beg the ghost bride for mercy, to trade back the beauty trick—even if it meant public humiliation, he’d accept it.

He just wanted to earn some silver, maybe dance with the ghost bride—why did it have to be this deadly?

But the ghost bride’s word was final—once spoken, even four horses couldn’t recall it; to refine his Dao heart, she conjured “The Shadow Lord, Chief Steward Hou,” and now demons danced before him…

Fuck!

Xie Jin was grinding his molars to dust, slowly drawing out the Heaven’s Gang Mace—knowing the illusion was desperately trying to pin his hands, but he could barely hold back.

He felt if he looked one more second, he’d die of revulsion right there.

Even if he won, a thousand taels couldn’t cover his mental damage—he’d need days of the ghost bride washing his eyes to recover.

The others faced slightly lower difficulty, but clearly suffered too.

The female astronomer from the Imperial Observatory blushed crimson, her face tinged with maidenly longing—until finally, she couldn’t bear it, stepped forward, and planted wet kisses on the air: “Mwah, mwah, mwah…”

But there was clearly no one there.

The young Daoist nun snapped awake, realizing thousands were staring at her—she was struck dumb, her face turning liver-purple, leapt up, and sprinted away—she’d have to flee the capital, never to show her face again.

Linghu Qingmo also widened her eyes, her face flushed—unable to bear the pressure, she dared not face her own desires, and forcibly broke the illusion with the “Awaken Spirit Spell.”

Seeing two had already fallen, and no one was watching her, Linghu Qingmo sighed in relief, quietly sidestepping aside—then turned to look at Xie Jin, and froze:

“Huh? Xie Jin…?”

“Shhh~ Young Master Xie is slaying demons.”

“Huh?!”

Linghu Qingmo’s embarrassment vanished—she stared in disbelief at Xie Jin, teeth clenched—her thought was clear:

Are you insane?

You’re slaying demons while having a wet dream?

Do you have no feelings?

If you have no feelings, why did you kiss me?

Could it be you value slaying demons more than women…

Yes, yes, that’s right—Xie Jin should be like this…

…

Boom… boom… boom…

Outside the Golden Pavilion, drumbeats thundered—only two remained on stage!

Wei Lu, determined to crush Zhang Huaiyu, even though he didn’t know if he’d won, summoned the ferocity of a martial cultivator—his forehead bulged with veins, nails dug into his knees, and blood trickled from his nose!

But under overwhelming temptation, Wei Lu’s body leaned forward unconsciously—as if he wanted to kiss something before him, yet fought to restrain himself.

Xie Jin was worse—he turned ashen, eyes bloodshot, true qi surging wildly, radiating murderous intent so fierce the dancing woman fled to the side!

Seeing both barely holding on, everyone tensed.

Lin Wanyi, heart pounding, couldn’t help shouting:

“Xie Jin, hold on!”

Linghu Qingmo urged beside her: “Xie Jin, it’s all illusion—don’t be seduced!”

…

Xie Jin knew it was fake—but so what?

Forced to stare at Chief Steward Hou dancing a lewd dance, growing increasingly provocative, increasingly filthy, inching closer—could anyone endure it?

If not for the sunk cost, Xie Jin would’ve quit the contest outright rather than sit here another second.

Even if he won the silver, he felt it wasn’t worth it.

After all, this nightmare would haunt him for the rest of his life…

But fortunately, Wei Lu’s torment was no less than his own.

Wei Lu faced an elder’s buttocks thrust into his face—even knowing it was illusion, he could no longer hold on; in his deepest torment, he bit his lip and leapt backward, fleeing the illusion, plunging headfirst into the inner river.

Plop—

At the sight, crowds along the riverbank erupted in thunderous cheers:

“Whoa…”

“Perfect—!”

The Dan King’s heir pounded his palm in excitement:

“I knew Brother Xie could resist temptation! He won! He won!”

Seeing the outcome decided, the beautiful woman feared Xie Jin might break—she immediately ended her technique.

“Huh…”

Xie Jin was nearly suffocated!

Seeing Chief Steward Hou vanish, the woman appeared before him—he looked as if he’d crawled out of the deepest hell.

Linghu Qingmo, watching anxiously, was overjoyed—she nearly lunged to hug him!

But seeing Xie Jin’s murderous expression, she dared not approach, only whispered nervously:

“Xie Jin, you…”

Xie Jin didn’t want to speak.

Though only five minutes had passed, it was the longest time of his life—he felt as if he’d lived a lifetime.

Even the beautiful woman, now, seemed like a celestial goddess—Linghu Qingmo was so beautiful he couldn’t open his eyes.

Zhang Huaiyu stood beside him, seeing Xie Jin had endured to the end, bowed respectfully:

“Young Master Xie, your will is rare in a thousand years—I am in awe.”

Splash~

Wei Lu surfaced from the water, calm now—he’d beaten Zhang Huaiyu, and though pleased, carried a shy, private restraint as he bowed:

“I am truly humbled—this plaque belongs to you, Young Master Xie.”

But Xie Jin felt no triumph—he only wanted to return to Danzhou and chop Chief Steward Hou into eight pieces!

To suffer so much for a thousand taels? It was self-abuse…

Seeing everyone offering congratulations, Xie Jin bowed slightly to both sides:

“Thank you. I can’t take it anymore—I need to cool down. Excuse me, sorry…”

He turned toward the Golden Pavilion, and after a few steps, spat:

“Pah! I’m furious!”

Everyone saw how hard Xie Jin had struggled—no one blamed him for not biting his teeth to dust; they chattered among themselves:

“Fame is never undeserved—his composure is incredible…”

“But can’t slaying demons be that hard?”

“Hmm, maybe the demon he saw was too brazen—youthful temper, hard to endure…”

…

Amid the noisy crowd, Lu Qian, a Company Commander in plain clothes, hidden in the shadows, watched Xie Jin’s retreating back, his brow furrowed:

“This youth’s reactions, composure, will, and techniques are flawless—no wonder he rose so fast. We can’t trap him…”

His deputy whispered beside him:

“He seems injured. With such a spectacle, he couldn’t possibly have gone to Changle Street to strike Lord Han—should we keep watching, or return to report?”

Lu Qian agreed Xie Jin wouldn’t go to Changle Street now—he thought a moment:

“You go report. I’ll keep watching—find out his location.”

“Yes…”

(End of Chapter)