The previous group had left, and the people in the private room on the third floor were so engrossed in their conversation that they completely forgot about the next event. Meanwhile, the folks in the lobby on the first floor were still waiting.

As time ticked by, the noise gradually grew louder. Someone was banging on the table with one hand while holding a bottle of liquor in the other, mumbling something that sounded like they were looking for someone to drink with. Their voice was so loud that even the people on the third floor could hear it.

Attention shifted, and several young masters from prominent families looked down towards the source of the noise. The one in green leaned over the railing to get a better look and raised an eyebrow, saying, “It’s only just nightfall; how can someone already be this drunk?”

The drinker’s behavior was so poor that the surrounding people started to urge him to calm down, but they were collectively shot down. Nearby guests tried to persuade the tavern’s servants to intervene, and it was quite entertaining, serving as a distraction before the next event began.

They kept their heads down, munching on nuts while watching. Just as they were getting into it, the scene below strangely fell silent. The initially loud noises faded slightly, and even the servants and the drunkard they were watching stopped making noise, all looking in the same direction.

Not realizing what was happening, a few of them turned their heads slightly to follow the others’ gazes, only to discover that someone had come down from the second floor without them noticing.

A white figure emerged from behind the bamboo curtain hanging from the top of the stairs, and the first thing they noticed was a head full of white hair.

It really was just as the Nanfeng Pavilion had said.

Beneath the snow-white outer robe was a bright red lining that shimmered like satin, subtly peeking out from the sleeves, contrasting sharply with the cold white hand gripping a sword.

A sword?

Realizing something was off, a few of them raised their gazes, only to be caught off guard by the eyes that hung low beneath the white hair.

The eyes were like distant mountains, calm and far-reaching, and under the white hair, they added an air of aloofness. The long eyelashes cast a shadow in an arc. The person simply walked down, their robes fluttering as they moved, cascading like layers of waves.

The atmosphere turned quiet, and a cool breeze from the rainy night blew in through the window, inexplicably reminiscent of a spring night that had already passed, hinting at the lingering chill of early spring. When those eyes moved slightly, their hearts inexplicably skipped a beat.

There was no applause or cheers; even the clinking of teacups ceased, and everyone present watched as the white-haired figure stepped onto the stage with their sword.

In the midst of this silence, the young masters on the third floor finally regained their senses. The one in green swallowed the dried fruit he had been chewing on for a while, a flurry of thoughts racing through his mind before he finally said, “…Isn’t this person just the embodiment of Chen Jinghao’s aesthetic?”

Earlier, when they had been chatting about their ideal partners, Chen Shaozong had rambled on about appearances, not considering personality at all.

That long list of physical descriptions sounded less like a discussion about an ideal partner and more like a wish list, and they had all laughed at him. Yet now, judging solely by looks, aside from gender, it seemed that someone truly matched all of it.

“What a pity he didn’t smile; he must look good when he does,” someone nearby asked curiously, “Is he just not the type to smile?”

Standing on the stage, the naturally unsmiling Master Lin was as calm as still water, his facial muscles not moving a bit, while internally he was screaming and jumping around, the whole person exuding a faint sense of death.

He had said this plan was unreliable! And it turned out to be true!

Although he had never been here before, he could hear the commotion outside while preparing in the room. He noticed that when others took the stage, there would be applause and cheers. Everyone else had it, but he didn’t, which clearly indicated a problem; this plan had already declared bankruptcy right from the start!

Ignoring the gazes directed at him, he looked towards the tavern keeper standing on the second floor, thinking perhaps he should change the plan, only to see the keeper giving him a thumbs up.

“…”

It was clear that this meant to continue. The little voice in his heart had died a thousand times, and the corner of his eye twitched slightly as he habitually adjusted the hilt of his sword.

There were no flashy moves or warm-up activities; adhering to the goal of finishing early and leaving, he raised his long sword directly.

With no spiritual energy enhancement, he simply swung the sword, creating a gust of wind that lifted the gauzy curtains inside the pavilion, causing the tea on the tables to ripple. The atmosphere shifted in an instant.

“?”

The one who felt it most directly was the tavern keeper standing by the railing on the second floor, a strong gust of wind hitting his forehead, causing his slightly thinning hair to blow back, even lifting his eyelids as he opened his eyes in confusion.

This… this isn’t right, is it?

The way this person drew their sword seemed different from what he had expected, or rather, completely different.

He had thought it would be like the sword students at the city’s sword school, with each move carefully executed, but it wasn’t like that at all. There was no hesitation in the movements, and the sword was not flung away; as soon as the person made a move, they went straight for a big strike, and then the actions flowed smoothly, the robes fluttering with the sword without a moment’s pause or thought.

A sword broke through the air, the figure like a startled swan.

The snow-white long sword, though not yet unsheathed, appeared incredibly sharp as it swept through the air, easily slicing through it, the transparent blade reflecting the dim yellow light above, the sword light turning and illuminating the light-colored pupils, then swiftly advancing.

The red headband mixed in with the white hair flew up, rising and falling in mid-air, the airflow swirling as the robes danced, and those sitting nearby could even hear the rustling sound of the fabric as it moved, each sound filling their ears. The movements were devoid of any intentional charm, all exuding a sense of stern power.

The sword light dazzled, the brightness flowing like water, and beneath the gentle exterior lay an icy sharpness. As it brushed past the people below, they could even feel an uncontainable chill.

So, the sword of frost truly existed. The person holding the sword had their robes spread open, appearing like frost-covered petals bravely emerging from the branches in the early spring chill.

The person was slender, and as they raised their sword, the sleeves slipped down, revealing a glimpse of white bandages wrapped around their arm.

They were even injured while taking the stage.

“…”

Originally, they thought the person had come up to dance, and the sword was just a prop, but it turned out to be a true sword dance. The guests below remained silent, their eyes glued to the performance, their hands holding teacups suspended in the air, not daring to take a sip.

Usually, their sense of time wasn’t very strong, but at this moment, it was particularly acute. They felt like not much time had passed, as if they hadn’t seen enough, but in reality, this brief appearance was already coming to an end.

“…”

The sounds that had been swirling in the pavilion gradually faded, ultimately returning to silence. With long hair and robes hanging down, Lin Zhusheng spun the sword in his hand, performed a flourish, and then sheathed the sword, only to realize there was no sheath, so he simply carried the sword and turned to leave.

He wasn’t performing a showy sword dance; he had merely practiced the basic sword techniques from “The Self-Cultivation of Sword Practitioners” at 1.5 times speed. He didn’t know if he had impressed anyone, but in any case, he was leaving.

Not only did he leave immediately, but he also left quickly. No one had paid attention when he arrived, and no one reacted as he left. The plan had clearly failed; he had done his best to help, and now he needed to hurry to find the elders and his fellow disciples.

The first to react was the tavern keeper on the second floor, who took two or three steps down to meet him before the other guests could react. Just as he was about to say something to persuade the young friend to stay, Lin Xiaoyou was already saying he had to go find the elders.

“Oh, oh, you mean you still have to find someone after this… wait,” the tavern keeper suddenly realized something, swallowing the words that had almost escaped his throat, turning into a stunned, “Elders?”

His gaze shifted up to the white-haired figure, which looked just like his kind-hearted friend, and he exclaimed in shock, “Aren’t you a relative of the master?”

Lin Zhusheng thought to himself that he and his kind-hearted friend shouldn’t look too similar.

“…Ten thousand silver, how about that young friend over there come have a drink with me?”

At this point, the tavern keeper finally realized what was happening, and the once-quiet lobby began to return to its noisy state, with clear voices coming from inside. He didn’t have time to say anything else, and in an instant, he turned his head to see someone sitting slanted in a chair, waving a wine cup in this direction.

Nanfeng Pavilion didn’t have the custom of drinking tea or wine accompanied by musicians and dancers; even one cup wouldn’t do. The tavern keeper opened his mouth to explain, but before he could take a step, someone else shouted a bid, “Then I’ll offer twenty thousand.”

Their bidding was so bold and confident, as if it were completely normal, and soon others joined in.

In an instant, the lobby was filled with the sounds of bidding, with no one daring to hesitate. The tavern keeper waved his hands while running to stop the situation from escalating.

The one who had been bidding was the person who made the initial offer. The scene was too noisy, and the tavern keeper couldn’t stop everyone, so he could only go after the one who was bidding the most aggressively. When he got closer, he realized the person reeked of alcohol and had an unusually flushed face.

It seemed that this was no longer his business. Lin Zhusheng stood in place for less than two seconds before turning to head for the stairs to the second floor.

“Bang—”

Just as he stepped onto the stairs to the second floor, before his foot could fully land, a loud noise and a chorus of gasps erupted behind him. He turned his head towards the sound, and in that instant, he saw the tavern keeper, who had just rushed over, flying back and crashing into the wall.

Following closely behind was someone wielding an iron hammer, striding towards the fallen tavern keeper, the hammer raised, and with a drunken slur, they shouted, “Who are you to say no?”

The tavern keeper had just gotten up from the ground when he turned to see an iron hammer the size of his own head, his mind momentarily blank, his eyes wide open in shock.

The pavilion had hired some thugs, who had originally been at the entrance, but after the incident, they rushed over with sticks, trying to fend off the drunkard. Before they could all intervene, Lin Zhusheng turned and, using his sword, executed a sliding maneuver to redirect the hammer’s descent.

The sound of metal grinding against metal rang out, accompanied by a shower of sparks, and when the hammer hit the ground, it made a loud “boom.”

A normal person wouldn’t just pull out such a hammer; this drunkard was a cultivator, and judging by his appearance, he was likely a rogue cultivator. There was a vast chasm between cultivators and ordinary people; even ten thugs wouldn’t be able to stop him.

The thugs realized this too, and when they rushed over, they could only stand there, unsure of what to do. The tavern keeper, who had closed his eyes and then opened them to find he was still alive, urged them to quickly call the city guards.

The impact from catching the hammer left Lin Zhusheng’s hand numb, and his heart felt numb too; the wound hadn’t healed, and it seemed it would crack open again.

Dragging the hammer closer, the rogue cultivator invited him to drink, saying that if not, tea would do.

He couldn’t do anything, so he refused, and when he caught a whiff of the alcohol, he wanted to step back, but remembering the tavern keeper still on the ground, he held his ground.

The rogue cultivator was clearly drunk, in a very tipsy state, insisting on drinking, and continued to approach, dragging the hammer along the ground.

The situation had inexplicably transformed from initially helping a kind-hearted friend with their luggage to a real fight, and Lin Zhusheng engaged with the rogue cultivator.

“Swish—”

The real confrontation was far more thrilling and complex than the previous simple sword practice. The scene was filled with flashes of blades and swords, too fast for others to see what was happening, and they didn’t dare to move, fearing they might get caught in the crossfire, only able to watch with wide eyes, occasionally glancing at the tavern keeper slowly rising from the corner.

It turned out that the person the tavern keeper had invited was not just a high-level performer but someone who could really fight!

With their view mostly blocked, the young masters on the third floor felt like they were in a prison, unable to see what was happening below, and they eventually made their way down.

Then they found themselves in a real fight. Once they reached the bottom, they realized it wasn’t a temporary performance; it was a genuine brawl. Today, they had only brought a maid and no guards, so they could only stay put like everyone else, hoping not to get caught in the fray.

They were cultivation failures, with only a tiny bit of spiritual energy in their bodies. Although they couldn’t use it to save their lives, they could sense when danger was near, like feeling the overwhelming spiritual pressure from the rogue cultivator, which was far beyond their own.

Earlier, when they had thought they were close to death upon seeing Ling Xujun, they quickly retracted their words, saying, “How about I just run into Ling Xujun like yesterday instead?”

Being seen by someone was definitely better than the current state of anxiety.

“…”

The timing of his words was just right; the previously noisy lobby fell silent for a moment, making his voice stand out remarkably, drawing the attention of those engaged in the fight with the rogue cultivator, who looked over in surprise.

Although the timing was off, he was still caught off guard by the beauty of those eyes.

With a quick clap, the surrounding friends instinctively began to step away from him, and the informed person quickly grabbed a few of them, not letting anyone escape, thinking if they were going to die, they would die together.

Perhaps they really would die. In just a moment, the person who had been evenly matched with the rogue cultivator suddenly took a hit, sliding towards them from the ground, using his long sword to slow his descent, stopping not far in front of them.

Just as they were about to ask if something was wrong, the person quickly pulled out a jade token from somewhere and tossed it over. The one in green reacted the fastest, catching it reflexively, though he didn’t understand why.

Using the hit to kick the rogue cultivator’s weapon away, Lin Zhusheng quickly whispered, “Please input some spiritual energy and tell them where we are.”

He recognized these people; they were friends of Chen Jinghao, and he had seen them a few times in the game. He remembered they had spiritual energy, but their cultivation levels were low.

Their voices were pleasant, clear and clean, and even in this moment, they carried a hint of the comfort of early spring, contrasting sharply with the cold expression on stage.

Without asking for any background, the one in green inexplicably accepted the task, standing at attention and declaring he would accomplish it.

The rogue cultivator pulled out the hammer embedded in the wall, and after Lin Zhusheng finished his request, he thanked him and pushed himself up from the ground with his sword.

The sound of metal grinding against metal rang out again, each sound irritating the sensitive ear canals. The one in green focused intently, trying to channel his limited spiritual energy, and finally, the jade token lit up.

The moment the jade token glowed, it was as if someone had been waiting on the other side; a deep, chilling male voice suddenly echoed.

There were too many people on the first floor, so to avoid collateral damage, Lin Zhusheng and the rogue cultivator fought their way to the second floor.

He couldn’t operate his spiritual energy, and he was still injured, but the rogue cultivator was no better off, drunk and full of spiritual energy and strength but lacking in brains. Relying on the solid foundation he had built from completing tasks, even without spiritual energy, he still managed to gain the upper hand despite taking a hit.

However, once they reached the second floor, even those who didn’t understand could see that he was considerably restricted, especially whenever he got close to the railing.

Pulling the fight away from the edge, the hammer swung diagonally from one side. Lin Zhusheng braced himself against the wall to dodge, and as he did, he reversed his unsheathed long sword.

The sword tip nearly grazed his own forehead, and the rogue cultivator, who had intended to sneak attack with his other hand, immediately retreated, narrowly avoiding the unsheathed blade.

Heavy weapons like the hammer consumed a lot of spiritual energy, and the reckless swinging led to the rogue cultivator exhausting his energy. Lin Zhusheng could also feel the wound on his waist splitting open again, both of them breathing heavily, reaching the limits of their abilities.

In the end, the rogue cultivator refused to back down, suddenly lunging forward while gasping for breath, swinging the hammer with all his might. This time, he put everything into it, and as the hammer sliced through the air, it created a deafening sound, while he shouted, “Drink with me; I have money.”

The ordinary long sword was visibly dented from the impact of the hammer, and Lin Zhusheng’s brows twitched. Hearing those words, his previously exhausted hand suddenly regained strength, and he pushed forward, forcing the hammer back, finally unable to hold back his first curse in this world: “Drink what? Can’t you see I’m a man?”

What normal man would drunkenly cling to another man, wanting to spend money to drink together!

The more he spoke, the angrier he became. With another surge of strength, he spun the long sword in his hand, then sent both the rogue cultivator and the hammer flying. After the person fell to the ground, he stepped forward, pointing the sword tip directly at the rogue cultivator’s abdomen.

Sensing the taste of death, the rogue cultivator rolled on the ground, using the fastest speed he could muster to lean against the railing. Breathing heavily, he smiled, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, and said, “You’re afraid of heights, aren’t you?”

What others could sense, he could certainly sense too, even in this drunken state.

Lin Zhusheng halted his steps.

The halted steps confirmed his words, and the rogue cultivator took a deep breath, saying, “As long as I’m here, you can’t move me.”

The sounds of fighting faded, and the entire pavilion fell silent. Those still in the building watched the two on the second floor in a silent standoff, unconsciously softening their breaths.

The people standing not far away remained motionless, having made the right bet. Finally, they had turned the tide; the rogue cultivator exhaled a breath of relief and said, “You can’t…”

“Clang—”

His remaining words were drowned out by the sound of a sword ringing from high above.

As the sword rang out, the rogue cultivator’s lips moved, the smile still on his face, but he saw the person not far away move.

Long hair billowed, robes fluttered, and the figure with the sword rushed straight towards him without a hint of hesitation or pause, the unsheathed blade swiftly pressing against his throat, while a hand from behind locked him in place, rendering him unable to move as he was pulled straight off the railing.

In the wide eyes of the people below, the two figures leaped over the railing, falling together towards the ground.

“…”

The sound of shattering glass was drowned out by the still-resounding sword ring, unnoticed by anyone. A sudden panic surged within, and the people below hurriedly rushed to try to catch the white figure, but the distance was too great, and they could only watch as the figure fell.

“Boom—Crash—”

The rogue cultivator crashed heavily onto a guest table, shattering teacups and plates everywhere, while the white figure that had leaped over the railing landed safely in the arms of a timely arriving figure clad in deep blue, embraced fully.

Without needing to look, it was clear they had landed safely, the familiar scent and the dampness of the rain filling Lin Zhusheng’s nose as he quickly reached out to tightly grasp the person’s neck, shouting, “Senior Brother!”

The rogue cultivator was gambling, and so was he, betting that his senior brother would arrive quickly and recognize him. The rogue cultivator lost the bet, but he won.

What responded to him was the tightening grip around his waist and a low voice in his ear saying, “I’m here.”

Hearing that familiar voice, Lin Zhusheng’s mind raced through the bizarre experiences of the past few days: battling the ultimate BOSS, soaking in the fields, sitting in a cart, and almost fainting from a male companion today. The more he thought about it, the more surreal it felt. He embarrassingly sniffed, burying his face in the person’s hair like an ostrich, and called out, “Senior Brother!” but this time his voice was muffled, sounding much softer.

His senior brother looked down at him, the hand resting on his waist gently patted, slowly tightening.