This finger…
Li Changshou’s forehead was covered in black lines, and his eyes were swallowed by shadows. For a moment, he sat motionless, like a clay statue.
Why was this world so full of malice toward him?
Out of the thousands of cultivators present—at least seven or eight thousand—his cultivation level was average. Not particularly high, not excessively low. Many disciples from smaller sects hadn’t even reached the Void Return realm.
So why, out of this vast crowd, had the Dragon King’s second prince, Ao Yi, chosen him?
Li Changshou couldn’t figure it out. He truly couldn’t. But he knew this was no time to sit in a daze. He had to act, and quickly, to get out of this predicament.
Countless gazes converged on him, and spiritual senses probed his presence from all directions…
Thankfully, as long as no one grabbed his hand to examine his inner cultivation, his true strength would remain hidden.
But he couldn’t guarantee that the high-level experts on the platform above hadn’t already seen through his facade.
At that moment, Li Changshou desperately wanted to storm onto the stage, grab this young dragon named Ao Yi, pin him to the ground, pry open his mouth, and shove several pills—Immortal Dissolving Pills, Demon-Crushing Bone-Eroding Pills—straight in!
“Changshou? Nephew Changshou?”
A female elder from the Du Immortal Sect called to him urgently. Li Changshou quickly steadied himself and looked up.
“Ahem!”
A male True Immortal from the Du Immortal Sect cleared his throat, stood, and bowed toward Ao Yi, who stood proudly in the center of the grand stage. Smiling, he asked, “Your Highness Ao Yi, are you inviting our Nephew Changshou for a spar?”
“That’s right,” Ao Yi replied impatiently. “Let him come up.”
No sooner had he spoken than several voices transmitted messages into his ears.
“Your Highness, you’ve chosen the wrong one. That person is only at the second level of Void Return.”
“Your Highness! Pick the woman in the red dress—she’s at the eighth level of Void Return!”
Ao Yi’s mouth twitched slightly, but he remained unwavering.
By this point, Li Changshou had also risen. Bowing to his sect elder, he said, “Uncle Master, this disciple’s cultivation is shallow and not even ranked among the top hundred in the sect. I fear I’m no match for His Highness. Stepping onto the stage might disgrace the Du Immortal Sect.
Perhaps His Highness could select one of our top ten disciples for a more fitting spar.”
Ten disciples from the Du Immortal Sect also stood, one of them, Qin Xuanya, even stepping forward to block the space in front of Li Changshou.
Ao Yi frowned. This person wasn’t just weak—he was annoyingly hesitant.
The young Dragon Prince declared loudly, “I’ve already chosen you!
What’s this? Does the Du Immortal Sect hold our Eastern Sea Dragon Palace in such little regard?”
Li Changshou’s brow furrowed. This little dragon seemed determined to spar with him.
Where had things gone wrong?
Meanwhile, on the elevated platform, two or three hundred human immortals and over a hundred dragon experts observed the scene intently.
Among them, the Dragon King—a dragon-headed figure with a human body—smiled faintly, his eyes closed as if dozing. The Dragon King appeared unconcerned, as though he already knew what was about to unfold.
Li Changshou hesitated for a moment, then noticed his uncle-master turning toward him with a helpless smile.
“Nephew Changshou, why not step up and humor His Highness with a few moves?”
The male True Immortal added, “We brought you here to broaden your horizons, but we didn’t expect you’d be chosen to spar.
Show what you’ve learned, but don’t focus on winning. The goal is to avoid spoiling His Highness’s mood.”
Another elder transmitted a voice message:
“Nephew Changshou, don’t worry. Go up and exchange a few moves. We’ll be watching closely.
This young dragon is the prince of the Dragon Palace and is quite formidable. If things look unfavorable, concede immediately. Your safety is our priority.
Your cultivation level is low—losing won’t matter. There’s no need to bleed for the Du Immortal Sect’s face!”
Li Changshou sighed inwardly, forced a small smile, and bowed to the concerned elders and peers around him. He then descended the steps toward the stage.
He would act as any second-level Void Return disciple would.
Today’s event was Ao Yi’s stage, and choosing him likely meant the prince wanted an easy, assured victory.
Li Changshou decided to cooperate. He would exchange a few moves, then lose gracefully, ensuring he didn’t embarrass himself too much.
“Changshou! Nephew!”
Jiujiu, his junior master, suddenly shouted, unstrapping a large gourd from her back. She winked at him and called out, “You forgot your Exorcism Wishful Sword!
I’ve nearly finished comprehending it, so I’ll return it to you now.”
Li Changshou chuckled bitterly but felt touched by her concern.
The Exorcism Wishful Sword, a supreme-grade artifact refined by Wangqing the Detached, had the potential to evolve into a spiritual treasure. It was immensely powerful.
His junior master’s willingness to lend it to him, even under a flimsy pretext, showed her deep care.
“I’m only sparring with His Highness Ao Yi,” Li Changshou replied warmly. “This is not a life-or-death battle. Such a lethal artifact is unnecessary.”
With that, Li Changshou stepped into the arena, ignoring the gourd. His gaze met the Dragon Prince’s for the second time.
Ao Yi’s lips curled into a slight smile, his eyes brimming with anticipation.
**“Good. Come on. Strike me head-on!
Use all your strength to unleash a spell or a punch! I’ll make sure to spit three pints of blood!”**
Li Changshou, however, twitched inwardly. That look in Ao Yi’s eyes…
What was his intent? Why so aggressive?
wannaberecluse On SRTT Chapter 50.1