Quick Travel: Save the poor little villain

Three years have passed, and all the past events, grudges and love and hatred seem to have been settled.

Not long after Xie Qingmo came out of retreat, a deacon disciple brought him a jade box, saying that it was a gift from Master Lingxu.

Inside are several extremely precious elixirs and magical herbs that are specially used to consolidate the cultivation of the Nascent Soul stage.

The disciple lowered his head and said, "The master has ordered that it must be delivered," and said nothing more.

Xie Qingmo took the jade box, brushed his fingertips across the cold jade, was silent for a moment, and nodded slightly towards the direction of Wulai Peak where the deacon disciples were, "Thank you, Immortal, for me."

Seeing this, Lan Yi, who was standing by, sighed softly, turned around, took out a plate of freshly made Lingmi Osmanthus Cake from the food box, and handed it to the deacon disciple.

"Please, Junior Brother, take this back to the Master." She paused and said in a gentle voice, "Just say... this is a little gift from our disciples."

Jinchen also picked up a piece to eat, and walked in with Xie Qingmo, when he suddenly heard the system announcement.

[The villain's darkening value is detected -4, totaling 0! 】

The deacon disciple retreated in response.

In the main hall of Wulai Peak, Master Lingxu was alone, looking at the plate of still warm pastries on the table.

He picked up a piece and put it in his mouth. The familiar sweet and soft taste melted on his tongue, but it got stuck in his throat, with an indescribable bitterness.

Master Lingxu chewed very slowly and finally sighed. Only he himself knew the sadness and regret contained in his sigh.

He swallowed the cake and closed his eyes, feeling only relieved and tired.

Perhaps this is the only relationship between a master and a disciple that exists after all.

The sect competition is approaching.

For the first time, this grand event was held in the Tianyan Sect, which does not like to join in the fun.

For a time, people from all walks of life gathered together, immortal boats gathered, and the huge sect was several times more bustling than before.

However, many people privately discussed that 70% to 80% of the monks who came this time had other intentions than drinking wine.

They all came to pay homage to the legendary ancient sword spirit.

It is now rumored that the ancient sword spirit is not only unfathomable, but also can enter and exit the demon world at will as if it were an empty place, without any soldiers, and forced the Demon Lord to sign a peace agreement with tears just by his momentum.

As a result, wherever Jinchen went, it almost became the most lively "attraction" in the entire competition.

Whether he was basking in the sun or strolling on the mountain path, there would always be unfamiliar monks who would come up to him and chat with him.

Some express their admiration sincerely, while others try to make friends and curry favor with others in a roundabout way.

What's worse, some of them even offered a staggeringly high price, trying to invite Jinchen to become the worship elder of their sect.

Jinchen was very annoyed by this and usually had a cold face. He would avoid it if he could, and would simply refuse if he couldn't.

However, his appearance of not wanting strangers to approach him and only smiling at Xie Qingmo made him more attractive in the eyes of some people.

This made Xie Qingmo very angry.

He seemed to be invited by the sect leader, and calmly handled the affairs of the sect and prepared for the competition.

But if anyone showed overly blatant desire or harassment towards Jinchen, Xie Qingmo would remember it.

When it came to the formal competition draw, facing the list of many eager challengers under the stage, Xie Qingmo directly chose the young master of a medium-sized sect who had been entangled with Jinchen the most in the past few days, who was also a sword cultivator.

On the arena, sword energy was everywhere.

Xie Qingmo was dressed in white, his posture was as tall and straight as a solitary cedar on a peak. The Chen sword in his hand had not yet been unsheathed, but the invisible sword intent alone had already made his opponent feel pressured.

The young sect leader's cultivation was quite good, but now that he was standing in front of Xie Qingmo, his aura was inferior to Xie Qingmo.

Jinchen was sitting in the position with the best view below the arena, leaning lazily against the back of the chair. His black clothes made his features look picturesque, attracting countless gazes, some open and some hidden.

[Host, please don't misunderstand.] Ling Gungun interrupted Jinchen's thoughts in time. [Those people staring at you definitely don't mean to fight with you.]

Jinchen felt quite regretful and looked at Xie Qingmo on the stage.

The young master adjusted his breathing and could not help but drift towards Jinchen below the stage. Finally, he could not hold back any longer and shouted in the direction of Jinchen before the fight began:

"Master Sword Spirit! In this battle... are you willing to help me?"

Xie Qingmo on the other side of the ring: "..."

His cold eyes darkened instantly.

Upon hearing this, Jinchen raised a finger in the direction of the young sect leader and shook it left and right, making a very clear gesture of "no".

Then, he turned his gaze to Xie Qingmo, a mischievous smile appeared on the corner of his lips, and his mind sent a message, "Xie Qingmo, beat him up, I'll cheer you on!"

The young sect leader was rejected in public and felt a little embarrassed, but he was not discouraged.

He took a deep breath and got into position.

Xie Qingmo's eyes focused, ready to fight back.

But the moment the young master delivered the sword move, he suddenly shook his wrist and said, "Wait a minute, senior!"

The shout was sudden and loud.

Xie Qingmo subconsciously paused and looked at him intently, thinking that he had something to say.

At this moment, the long sword in the young master's hand began to emit a glow of light.

"Brother, be careful! His sword tells you to wait a moment, senior!" Xing Yan, who was watching the fight from the audience, saw it clearly and jumped up and shouted anxiously.

Xie Qingmo choked.

The audience burst into laughter instantly.

The name combined with this sinister move is simply amazing.

Even though Xie Qingmo was as cold as ice, he was still left in tears and laughter by the strange name of the sword and the insidious tactics.

He looked at the senior who was whistling towards him and called out, his eyes flashing.

"Jinchen."

The sound was clearly heard throughout the venue.

The young sect leader was feeling proud of his clever plan, thinking that Xie Qingmo had been misled by the name of the sword and had lost the initiative. He was startled when he heard the other party calling out the name of the Lord Sword Spirit.

He thought Xie Qingmo was going to ask for help against the rules, so he backed away in fear and shouted, "Senior Brother Xie! Sword cultivators cannot call on sword spirits in a competition!"

The words have not yet fallen.

The Chen sword that had been hanging on Xie Qingmo's waist was unsheathed by itself. The sword light was as agile as a dragon, and it rushed towards the sneak attack from the senior.

Clang!

Senior, don't be easily knocked away by the sharp edge of the Chen Sword. It spun and pierced into the bluestone ground in the distance, making a buzzing sound and its spiritual light dimmed.

Xie Qingmo raised his hand, and the Chen Sword flew back to his hand obediently.

He stood holding a sword, his white robe fluttering in the wind, the corners of his lips raised in a faint but high-spirited arc, and he said calmly to the stunned young master: "My sword is named Jinchen."

Young Master:!!!

He looked at his predecessor's sword that was defeated in one move, then looked at the sword in Xie Qingmo's hand, and his scalp went numb.

What a slap in the face!

Off the stage, Jinchen's eyes and brows were curved, dazzlingly bright.

There is no suspense in the next competition.

Xie Qingmo walked leisurely in the garden. After a few rounds, he forced the young sect master, who was already in a state of confusion, to the edge of the ring. The tip of the sword lightly touched his shoulder, and the winner was decided.

The white clothes fluttered as he sheathed his sword.