Chapter 373: To Kill You, No Sword Needed

“Changle sister…”

“Rui’er, you’re back?”

On a morning when the spring rain had not yet ceased, the Shengjing Immortal Garden opened for the day’s Dao Debate.

Beneath the morning mist, members of the great families entered one after another; Princess Changle, Liu Junchi, and other Jing nobles arrived as well—only to spot Wei Rui, whom they had not seen in a long time.

She knew Wei Rui had left Jing with Kuangcheng and had not spent the New Year in the capital; to suddenly see her again was surprising.

Yet remembering that Ji You had also returned, she instantly understood the three must have come back together.

What puzzled her was that she knew Wei Rui had always been uninterested in cultivation—she could not fathom why she had come to this Dao Debate.

“Princess Changle, do you know where the Minister of Rites is?”

“Minister Chang? Why do you seek him?”

“Lord Kuang of the Imperial Immortal Supervision has not returned home all day. I sent someone to inquire at the Supervision—they said Lord Kuang was invited by the Minister of Rites to be his guest, but who stays overnight as a guest?”

“?”

Zhao Yunyue frowned slightly.

Minister Chang Huai was one of her father’s loyal Immortal Faction members, and had always been at odds with the Imperial Immortal Supervision—how could he possibly invite a Supervision official to his residence?

She shook her head lightly, indicating she did not know the Minister’s whereabouts; seeing this, Wei Rui pressed her red lips together and hurried away from the garden.

At that moment, Liu Junchi’s voice suddenly sounded beside her ear.

“Sister, look.”

“Look at what?”

Princess Changle turned her head—and her gaze froze.

Liu Junchi pointed toward the garden’s announcement board, which normally listed today’s debate topics and competitors.

Visitors could choose any martial or magical technique they found interesting and go watch the debates at the appropriate time.

Usually, six Dao halls would host ten to twenty matches per day, copied onto two separate boards.

But today, there was only one board—and what made it astonishing was that it bore only Ji You’s name.

At Chen hour, he would debate with Huo Ku, a Great Cultivator of the Wujiang Realm from the Shanhai Pavilion.

“Ji You and Huo Ku—who issued the challenge?”

“Look at the signature at the bottom—it’s Huo Ku.”

“But will Ji You even come?”

“The Immortal Sects want what he took. He refuses to give it up. His best move is to hide inside the Heavenly Book Academy—he won’t come out.”

“Then why put up this notice?”

“Of course—the Shanhai Pavilion, Wenda Sect, and Chen Shixian Clan don’t want to storm the Heavenly Book Academy. They’re trying to lure him out—but their method is childish.”

The announcement drew a crowd of other noble families, who began murmuring among themselves upon seeing it.

Ji You had just returned to the Heavenly Book Academy, and the three Immortal Sects had each sent an Elder there—clearly aiming for what he held. Under these circumstances, staying inside was the wisest choice.

Zhao Yunyue thought the same—she believed Ji You’s only option against the three Immortal Sects was to hide like a turtle.

Until the three sects moved to attack, or the Heavenly Book Academy reluctantly surrendered him.

Yet as he thought this, a group near the garden entrance turned their heads—and a low murmur of surprise rippled through them.

Hearing the commotion, Zhao Yunyue turned to look.

Ji You arrived wearing the Heavenly Book Academy’s sword robe, his face icy, his entire body radiating sword qi as he stepped into the garden.

The searing heat of his aura forced everyone nearby to step back three paces; they watched him walk slowly into the courtyard, their expressions growing even more astonished.

With him came Cao Jingsong, Ban Yangshu, Wen Zhengxin, and the Lu sisters.

Zhao Yunyue stood frozen for a long moment—then suddenly remembered Wei Rui’s hurried figure. Her eyes widened slightly, and her mouth opened unconsciously; she understood at last.

“So yesterday’s rumor was true.”

In the western tea pavilion of the garden, Fang Xiang, head of the Fang family, spoke softly.

Guo Fengxing looked up: “Rumor?”

“Last night, I drank with several acquaintances from Yuzhou. They had just paid respects to the Deputy Head of the Wenda Sect—they said they happened to see a Supervision official invited as a guest.”

“Imperial Immortal Supervision…”

At this, everyone in the pavilion suddenly understood—each knew exactly whom Fang Xiang meant.

In the second year of Taichang, Yuyang County had produced not one, but two youths from Fengzhou.

It was said they had once been too poor to afford meals, supporting each other in Shengjing.

Among them, Kuangcheng, though a mortal, had helped with everything—from supplying spirit stones to securing land leases.

Thinking of this, Fang Xiang and the others rose from the pavilion and followed the crowd toward the inner courtyard, thinking today would surely be an entertaining spectacle.

“Worthless disciple, are you truly going to debate Huo Ku?”

“I cannot abandon Kuangcheng.”

Ji You walked toward the inner garden as he spoke, his eyes still filled with murderous intent.

He had indeed planned to stay hidden in the Heavenly Book Academy forever—but he had not expected a debate invitation from Wenda Sect that very night.

What troubled him was not the invitation itself, but the jade pendant that had been sent along with it—the one always hanging at Kuangcheng’s waist.

He knew the Immortal Sects had low morals, but he never imagined they would sink this low—even now, with so many noble families gathered, they would resort to such tactics. It enraged him.

As he spoke, Ji You entered the inner courtyard. Before him stretched a vast, open debate arena, surrounded by nine stone pillars carved with images of ascending to heaven—majestic and solemn.

The three-tiered spectator stands were packed; figures perched on rooftops and eaves strained to see—crowds filled the space.

These were all cultivators who had arrived early to secure the best viewing positions.

They had seen the announcement upon entering, astonished that Huo Ku of the Shanhai Pavilion had challenged Ji You—and even more astonished that Ji You had actually appeared.

Amid whispers, He Ye, Zuoqiu Yang, Zhao Wuji, and the head of the Qiu family all turned their gazes toward the southeast-northwest Dao Viewing Pavilion.

It was built for the four Immortal Sects attending the debate; the open-air viewing corridor held only a few Elders from the sects—not the direct disciples or deputy heads.

But they knew those high-ranking figures were surely behind the corridor, watching Ji You intently.

In recent days, as the three sects sent Elders to pay respects at the Heavenly Book Academy, many noble families had guessed that what Ji You had taken from the Sage’s Sacred Ground was something even rarer and more valuable than a divine treasure.

But only those who had truly seen or touched it understood just how tempting it was.

“They say Wenda Sect used a Xia Dynasty official to take Ji You’s close friend—but if true, why not simply exchange him? Why debate?”

The head of the Qiu family frowned, muttering as he glanced at He Ye and Zuoqiu Yang.

He Ye turned his gaze away: “It’s about face.”

“Face?”

“According to the Heavenly Book Academy, Ji You’s refusal was arrogant—he declared he would keep the Immortal Spirit and dared them to break in. The sects now want to teach him a lesson. Mocking him isn’t surprising. Besides, threatening someone’s life would leave too much evidence.”

In sight, Ji You had entered the western side of the debate arena.

Two Wenda disciples approached, carrying a movable wooden sign and handing him a brush filled with cinnabar ink.

Ji You took the brush, marked a check on the sign—accepting the debate—and then halted before the platform.

The sign’s content matched the entrance board: it stated the time and format of the debate.

But unlike the entrance board, this one also listed the specific Dao they would debate.

“Finger Technique? They’re debating finger technique?!”

“This Ji guy follows the body-refining path—he knows nothing about finger technique!”

“Everyone knows he doesn’t cultivate magical arts. Why did he accept? This is suicide!”

As the thousands of cultivators in the arena saw the words “finger technique,” they erupted in shock.

Honestly, they had assumed the two would debate swordplay—but never expected finger technique, something utterly unrelated.

Ji You might be formidable in combat, but his Dao comprehension had always been Tongxuan Realm—he had never been seen using any magical technique. This match was practically a death sentence.

He Ye and the others saw the sign and nodded grimly.

His boastful challenge to the three sects to storm the Heavenly Book Academy had precisely ignited their fury—no one in a thousand years had dared defy the Immortal Sects so brazenly.

Now they didn’t just want the Immortal Spirit—they wanted to humiliate him first.

Nothing destroys a cultivator’s Dao heart more than failing to achieve a goal while being punished for arrogance.

“Hahahaha! Finger technique! Finger technique! How amusing—truly amusing!”

Fang Jincheng arrived at the Dao Viewing Pavilion with the Fang family, sat down with a sweep of his robe, and sneered.

Zhao Yunyue also took her seat and, hearing this, smiled faintly: “Lord Fang, you’re also a disciple of the Heavenly Book Academy. Is your delight really so obvious?”

“Princess, you’re right—I should restrain myself. But my mouth won’t obey—it’s beyond my control. Please forgive me.”

“Then Lord Fang is simply genuine.”

Around Fang Jincheng and Zhao Yunyue, disciples of the Heavenly Book Academy’s inner courtyard and affiliated noble youths all turned to stare at them.

Most felt nothing—after all, they had no connection to Ji You.

Others, like Zhao Yunyue, had once considered marrying him, merely pressed their lips slightly—either relieved they hadn’t been dragged into trouble, or thinking his arrogance needed tempering.

A cool spring breeze blew, slanting the fine rain like cowhair threads.

Time passed amid chatter and noise—and as Chen hour arrived, a figure descended from the Wenda Sect’s Dao Viewing Pavilion.

There stood Huo Ku, the Great Cultivator of the Wujiang Realm, his hair and beard streaked with white, arms crossed, gazing down at Ji You from the center of the arena.

Seeing him, Ji You did not hesitate. He removed his longsword as per protocol and stepped into the arena, walking steadily toward Huo Ku.

“Yesterday you said you’d stay hidden in the Heavenly Book Academy and dared us to break in. I thought you’d truly remain a coward, never showing your face again.”

Huo Ku stroked his long beard as Ji You approached, his eyes cold.

“Where is Kuangcheng?” Ji You ignored his mockery, fixing his gaze on him.

“He was merely invited for tea. No need to worry. But this debate is about finger technique—if you break the rules, things may not go well.”