No one dared look at Zhao Wuji's face. They could imagine it clearly enough—it had to be unsightly by now.
If Yun Jin truly won…
Then changes were inevitable within Tianxing Sect. Several peak lords remained silent. Some were hopeful, others anxious. Everyone's thoughts churned with unease.
"Ma Hongyu, we're moving on to the third round now, aren't we?" Zhao Wuji's voice was cold.
"Yes." Ma Hongyu's voice trembled slightly.
This round would judge how many seedlings survived after all three trials. After the first two rounds, Yun Jin had a perfect sprouting rate—one hundred healthy seedlings. Ye Cheng's survival rate was only around sixty percent. Unless he performed spectacularly in the final round, and Yun Jin completely failed, there was no hope for a comeback.
"We originally agreed to release ten Blackwood Beetles for the third round," Zhao Wuji said calmly, "but I think that's far too few."
He stood up, face expressionless as he turned toward Yun Jin's direction. "Lin Ya, since your disciple is so capable, adding some difficulty shouldn't bother her, right?"
Lin Ya frowned, eyes alert. "If the challenge is raised for Yun Jin, then Ye Cheng should face the same."
So long as the playing field was fair, he wasn't worried. Yun Jin wouldn't lose.
Zhao Wuji chuckled. "As sect leader, I treat both disciples equally. That's why this third round—each side will face one hundred Blackwood Beetles."
His final words were laced with chilling indifference.
"One hundred?" Ma Hongyu froze, his voice rising with alarm. "Sect Master, that's far too many. With so many beetles, neither of them will be able to manage. The result will be—"
He stopped mid-sentence, a realization flashing in his eyes. His expression darkened. He said nothing more.
He understood now.
This round was based on how many seedlings survived.
So, what if… none survived?
If both Yun Jin and Ye Cheng lost every single one…
Then it could be declared a draw. Just thick-skinned enough, and the truth could be twisted however needed. Zhao Wuji's sudden rule change clearly had this outcome in mind.
The Blackwood Beetles weren't strong, about the level of early-stage Qi Refining. The real difficulty was that the seedlings were extremely fragile. One bite could wither them completely. So Yun Jin and Ye Cheng would have to kill the beetles without damaging the seedlings.
That level of precision was nearly impossible.
With a hundred beetles released at once, even if they eliminated one per instant, it wouldn't be fast enough. The seeds were doomed to be devoured.
Inside the barrier, Yun Jin and Ye Cheng waited, oblivious to the brewing storm.
But Ma Hongyu's heart ached.
All their hard work… doomed to ruin.
He genuinely loved cultivation farming—why else would he devote decades to the spirit fields?
Zhao Wuji's move was purely for victory. He understood that.
Yet…
It still stung.
These plants were mere pawns in a power struggle.
"One hundred Blackwood Insects?!" Lin Ya's eyes blazed. "Sect Master, you're ensuring no winner! If this gets out—that our sect master resorts to such petty tricks—what face will Tianxing Sect have left?!"
Zhao Wuji smiled thinly. "Lin Ya, you demanded fairness. Is this not fair? Both sides get a hundred. Where is the bias?"
His voice turned mocking. "Unless… you doubt your disciple's miraculous abilities?"
"Zhao Wuji, you—!"
"Enough." Zhao Wuji's aura erupted, crushing Lin Ya back into his seat. "The sect has indulged you long enough. Know your place."
Elder Ming intervened, dispelling the pressure with a wave. "Sect Master, there's no need for hostility."
Zhao Wuji's gaze was steel. "Elder Ming, you've guarded the library for decades. I respect that. But as sect master, I decide the rules. Or do you deny me even that right?"
His defiance was startling.
Yun Jin could not win.
The consequences were unthinkable.
Even if it cost his reputation, Zhao Wuji would not relent.
Control of the spirit fields meant control of the sect—and he would keep it at any cost.
Elder Ming's eyes narrowed. With Zhao Wuji backed by a Holy Land and shedding all dignity, there was little they could do. Even if they rejected this rule, what if Zhao Wuji canceled the match entirely?
Such was the tyranny of authority.
And Yun Jin, for all her genius, was still just a disciple against a sect master.
Silence thickened.
The peak masters exchanged resigned glances.
Zhao Wuji would never surrender the fields.
Even bound by the Heavenly Dao Oath, he had endless loopholes.
Today's match was over before it began.
Ah, Yun Jin…
So close.
Yet still crushed by the weight of power.
Satisfied, Zhao Wuji turned to Lin Ya. "Any final objections?"
Lin Ya's face twisted before he spat, "You're the sect master. Your word is law."
Zhao Wuji's chest swelled with triumph.
Did these fools truly think they could win?
Even if they triumphed a hundred times, one word from him could erase it all.
"Ma Hongyu," he said coolly, "announce the rules."
Ma Hongyu bowed, voice shaking. "Yes, Sect Master."
Two storage pouches were brought forth—each holding a hundred Blackwood Insects.
Stepping into the barrier, Ma Hongyu forced out the words:
"Third round: One hundred Blackwood Insects per plot. After one incense stick's time, whoever has the most surviving sprouts… wins."
One hundred?
Yun Jin's eyebrow arched.
Interesting.
Ye Cheng, however, went deathly pale.
A hundred was impossible.
At the insects' feeding speed, his field would be barren within moments.
"Master… this can't be right. A hundred?" Ye Cheng's voice cracked.
Ma Hongyu couldn't meet his eyes. "The terms are equal. It's fair."
"Fair?" Yun Jin laughed coldly.