Chapter 242: Learning the Zither from Ying Huanhuan, First Place Is Mine!
Lin Fan turned his head with a smile and saw the young girl once again tying her long, flowing hair into a black ponytail.
Ying Huanhuan was smiling at him, her large eyes showing a hint of gratitude.
If Lin Fan hadn't stepped in, she would've had to face Huo Zhen herself. In her estimation, even going all out, her chances of winning were only fifty-fifty.
With her pride, losing wouldn't just be painful—it would've been a blow to Dao Sect's honor, something she couldn't bear.
"I only did it for the reputation of Dao Sect," Lin Fan chuckled, raising a brow.
Ying Huanhuan glanced at him with her big eyes but, for some reason, felt slightly dissatisfied with his answer. With a soft snort, she turned away, leaving him with a playful little back view.
Lin Fan just smiled and cupped his fists to the surrounding disciples, then left with Mo Ling.
Over the next few days, news of Lin Fan's one-slap defeat of Huo Zhen spread rapidly throughout Dao Sect.
Even the comment he made to Chen Zhen—"First place is mine"—somehow leaked out.
In no time, the entire sect was stirred into a frenzy.
Lin Fan, however, remained unfazed and continued his steady cultivation—though he occasionally took time to relax.
One day, on a whim, he took out the Exquisite Jade Flute from his system space and played a tune: A Life Like Blades and Dreams.
"That song… what is it? Sounds amazing."
A crisp, cheerful voice rang out behind him just as he finished playing.
Turning around, Lin Fan saw Ying Huanhuan standing nearby, dressed in light-colored robes, her posture tall and graceful.
"A Life Like Blades and Dreams," Lin Fan said with a smile. "Oh right, now that I think about it—didn't you owe me something from a little bet?"
Ying Huanhuan's big eyes blinked. She hesitated, stepping back instinctively.
"Looks like someone's trying to skip out on her debt," Lin Fan teased, lips curving upward.
Blushing, Ying Huanhuan bit her lip and said, "Who's backing out?! Fine! Let's settle it right now. What do you want me to do?"
Lin Fan held back a laugh as he looked at her determined expression.
His gaze swept across her elegant figure before he grinned. "I want you… to teach me your sonic arts. Everything you know."
He paused deliberately halfway through.
Under his unrestrained gaze and the teasing tone of his voice, Ying Huanhuan's face turned scarlet—especially at the first half of his sentence.
But after hearing the full request, she sighed in relief, eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Normally, I'd require you to formally take me as your master. But since you're so eager to learn, I'll let it slide. Just don't blame me if you're too dumb to pick it up."
"No problem," Lin Fan replied with a nod.
Ying Huanhuan glanced at the jade flute in his hand. "That tune wasn't bad. You clearly know music. I'll skip theory and go straight to teaching you a piece."
She sat down beside him and summoned her emerald guqin with a wave of her hand.
Her flawless, lamb-fat-jade-like fingers fell gently on the strings, and soon, soft, celestial notes filled the air.
Her mastery of the zither was already near perfection. Every note was crisp and beautiful, carrying a powerful undercurrent.
Lin Fan quietly listened, enjoying the music—but he was also observing carefully, memorizing her finger techniques.
By the time she finished, he had already committed the song to memory.
"Well? How much did you pick up?" she asked with a smile.
"Hmm... about twenty percent?" Lin Fan replied. "But you should probably explain the structure and fingering. You can't just play it once and expect me to copy it."
"That's because you're slow," Ying Huanhuan giggled, eyes gleaming.
Even so, she began teaching him properly.
Suddenly, a commotion broke out below the platform.
Ying Huanhuan frowned and looked toward the source—and her expression quickly darkened, tinged with unease.
Lin Fan raised an eyebrow and followed her gaze.
On the massive training platform below, over a thousand people had gathered, all staring in the same direction.
Whispers rippled across the crowd like a spreading fire.
Their focus was a stone staircase leading to the platform.
There, a figure in gray robes was slowly ascending.
His long hair hung in messy strands behind him.
What drew everyone's attention, however, was the massive black greatsword strapped to his back. It radiated an overwhelming killing aura.
His eyes—lifeless and dull—were enough to send chills down one's spine.
"Who is that?" Lin Fan asked, though he had a guess.
"Wang Yan," Ying Huanhuan murmured, biting her lip. Her usually light voice had become somber.
"What about him?" Lin Fan asked casually.
Ying Huanhuan remained silent for a moment, then explained softly.
She told Lin Fan the story of Wang Yan's older sister—how she was killed during the last sect tournament by Yuan Gate.
Afterwards, Wang Yan cursed Sect Master Ying Xuanzhi and left Dao Sect, spending years slaughtering Yuan Gate disciples in revenge.
Now, he had returned—most likely for the Grand Hall Trials, or perhaps the sect tournament that followed.
"The winner of the trials becomes the commander of Dao Sect's disciples in the sect tournament. Wang Yan probably intends to use that position for revenge."
"But he's... cold and ruthless. If he gets that role, many disciples might die because of his obsession."
Her voice trembled slightly at the thought, as if she might cry.
It was the first time Lin Fan had seen this bright, stubborn girl so vulnerable.
Lin Fan placed a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye.
"First place is mine."
At that moment, the familiar system prompt echoed in his mind once again.
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