Zhao Wuji slowly walked toward Ruan Jun's corpse.
Ruan Jun's eyes were still wide open, frozen in an expression of bitter disbelief. Pain twisted through Zhao Wuji's chest. He reached out and gently closed those eyes. Then, he looked at Yun Jin. His gaze was bone-chilling. He wanted nothing more than to tear her limb from limb.
But he held back.
Killing her now would only provoke criticism. More importantly—
That death would be far too easy for her.
No, he wanted her to suffer through the rest of her life, haunted by fear and regret. Every day a torment. Every night a curse. He gathered Ruan Jun's body into his arms and walked off the platform.
The other disciples under Zhao Wuji's command stood off to the side, their expressions complex. Han Xiaoyu suddenly coughed several times, blood spotting the handkerchief he pulled out to wipe his lips. Zhao Wuji's voice was hoarse. "Xiao Wu, don't let sorrow consume you. You must also care for your body."
Han Xiaoyu gave a quiet nod.
Zhao Wuji turned to Zhou Li and Zhou Dai. The two stood in silence, their faces blank.
That was it?
Zhao Wuji's fury surged.
That was their senior brother. He had just died a brutal death. Did they not feel a single pang of grief?
"You heartless fools," Zhao Wuji erupted, kicking both of them squarely in the chest.
Neither had time to react before they were sent flying. Pain blossomed through their bodies. Both spat up blood and fell to the ground, unable to straighten up. They dared not complain. Instead, they scrambled to kneel. Zhao Wuji couldn't touch Yun Jin without backlash from the sect contract.
But them?
A master striking his disciples was perfectly acceptable. Even if some felt sympathy for them, no one would speak up.
"Stay there and kneel!" he shouted, then ascended the platform again.
He stored away Ruan Jun's body and spoke in a cold voice.
"Next round. Yun Jin versus Yue Zhao. Begin."
He no longer cared about the disciple tournament. His mind was fixed on tomorrow's peak master challenge.
Lin Ya was a cripple. Luo Yi would never lose.
Today, Yun Jin had humiliated Ruan Jun. Tomorrow, Luo Yi would avenge him.
Yue Zhao smiled faintly.
Who would've guessed the final match would come down to him and his little junior sister?
A weight lifted from his heart. He visibly relaxed.
How many years had it been?
Ever since he transmigrated to this world, this was the first time he truly felt the clouds part and the moon shine through.
Even if Tianxing Sect was too small to hold his junior sister for long, the past three months had been filled with more wonder than his entire previous life.
He stepped across from Yun Jin and smiled.
"Junior Sister, what do you say?"
Yun Jin curved her lips. "Senior Brother, let's give it a proper fight."
She summoned the Tai'e Sword again.
"We're from the same sect, must we go so hard?" Yue Zhao gave a wry smile.
Yun Jin grinned. "I've been wanting to spar with you for a long time."
She raised her sword, ready to strike.
But just as she stepped forward—
Yue Zhao jumped off the platform. "I forfeit!"
Yun Jin blinked. "???"
Yue Zhao gave a proud grin.
Getting beat up in front of a crowd by his junior sister? No thank you.
Fight Yun Jin? Out of the question.
And so, the final match ended in the most anticlimactic way possible.
The judge glanced at Zhao Wuji, unsure.
Zhao Wuji's face was expressionless as he announced, "Disciple Tournament Champion: Yun Jin."
He no longer cared how the tournament played out.
He just wanted time to hurry up.
He wanted Lin Ya dead. He wanted Yun Jin dead. He wanted them all dead.
When Yun Jin beheaded Ruan Jun, everyone already knew.
The champion would be her.
But knowing was one thing.
When a new disciple, barely three months into her training, truly claimed first place—the entire arena fell into silence.
Three months.
And she had already risen to the top.
Such talent.
It was unheard of.
Many had assumed that, for centuries to come, the most brilliant disciple of the sect would be Ye Danxia. With her heavenly spirit root, she was practically guaranteed a future in the Four Great Holy Lands. In a mid-tier sect, she was a true chosen one.
Yet now—
Yun Jin, with her five-element spiritual root, had crushed every peer in her path and taken the crown.
Many suddenly recalled her infamous declarations.
She had once said, "I want the sky no longer to block my eyes. I want the earth no longer to bury my heart."
They had laughed back then.
But now, seeing her stand alone at the center of the stage, some began to wonder. Perhaps one day, she really would climb to the very summit and find true freedom.
Elder Jian watched her, eyes soft with pride.
He, too, remembered her vow that day.
She had said, "The path of the sword allows no retreat. If not me, then who?"
That day, he realized something.
Though she had just entered the sect, Yun Jin had the heart of the invincible.
Such swordsmen were terrifying.
If she kept winning, if she forged an unshakable belief in her own strength, then one day—
Gods, demons, Buddhas—none would stop her.
She was already walking that path.
Lin Ya gazed at his little disciple, a rare warmth in his eyes.
He remembered when she had proudly said, "I'll win, and then I'll hear all of you cheering for me."
What had he done back then?
He had smacked the back of her head.
She had dared to challenge a Nascent Soul cultivator to a duel in three months. He thought she was completely out of her depth.
But now?
That same reckless disciple had really taken off Ruan Jun's head.
And her strangeness went far beyond that.
He remembered the seventh-grade Butian Pill he had taken. No one knew better than him what kind of future Yun Jin held.
After this tournament, no matter who she chose to follow, Yun Jin's time in Tianxing Sect was likely coming to an end.
He already felt reluctant to let her go. But if she was heading toward a brighter future, how could he not be happy for her?
The only thing he could do—was win tomorrow's match beautifully.
He didn't want Yun Jin to worry about people like them anymore.
His little disciple was destined to soar among the heavens.
Even if they couldn't keep up, they would never drag her down.
As Lin Ya was lost in thought, Zhao Wuji gave him a cold look.
"Tomorrow. I look forward to it."
Lin Ya came back to himself and smiled.
"Tomorrow, I do too."
===
"To Soar Beyond the Nine Heavens" (九天之上, Jiǔtiān zhī shàng in Chinese) is a poetic and metaphorical expression rooted in East Asian cosmology, literature, and martial arts/xianxia (仙侠) culture. It conveys an ambitious, transcendent aspiration—breaking all limits to achieve the highest possible state of power, freedom, or enlightenment.
The "Nine Heavens" (九天)
In ancient Chinese cosmology, the universe was divided into nine layered heavens (or celestial realms), each representing higher levels of divinity, purity, or power.
The "ninth heaven" was considered the supreme domain of gods, immortals (xian), or cosmic order.