The First Venerable of the Prosperous Age

These words caused an uproar among the audience.

After all, what he's losing is something many people there desperately want...

Wang Xiaofan smiled and added, "I was forced up here by those bad boys, and I had no intention of competing with you."

His smile seemed to hold a hint of relief. "Besides, I'm living a very leisurely and comfortable life now. I don't want my grandmaster uncle to suddenly become my Master Kang; that would be too tiring for me..."

The gray-robed man glared at him, "Do you even know that you're giving up not just this position, but also the legendary 'Nether Flower Divine Sword'!"

Wang Xiaofan laughed, "The Nether Flower Divine Sword? Could it be that what I just defeated wasn't the Nether Flower Divine Sword?"

This question struck a nerve with the gray-robed man, who glared at him and asked, "Did you defeat him?"

"Hahahaha!" Wang Xiaofan laughed heartily. "Of course, there's another important reason: I just don't want that naughty boy down there to get what he wants."

Chang'an, who was hiding on the sidelines, finally laughed out of anger. "This brat must have felt that I hit him too hard to say such disobedient things."

"Haha, but that's fine too. If we really become fellow disciples, then it won't be appropriate for us to call each other father and son anymore."

Now the gray-robed man was so angry at Wang Xiaofan that he laughed. He sat on the ground and said, "Since you have no intention of fighting with me, then there is no need for us to waste our time here."

Before he could finish speaking, Wang Xiaofan turned around and said leisurely, "Of course, but you'll probably have to..."

He stopped talking because he could feel the wind behind him.

He didn't hide, because he could also smell the fragrance of flowers carried by the breeze.

With a clang, the two swords clashed.

A girl from another race, as gentle as an evening breeze and as fragrant as a flower, had silently appeared behind Wang Xiaofan.

The man in the gray robe had somehow retreated eight feet away.

With just a gentle sway, the girl in front of him sent all the strength he had put into his sword back to him.

"The Divine Sword of the Underworld Flower!" Chang'an was not amazed by the gray-robed man, but by Feng Ranran, who was all smiles on the field.

"Could it be that she has already learned all the moves in the sword manual?"

Wang Xiaofan said with a grin, "Thank you, Junior Sister Feng."

Feng Ranran waved her hand, and a nightingale-like laugh followed, "Senior Brother Wang, you don't need to be so polite. After all, I didn't come up here to save you, hehe."

"Whatever, at least I can finally get a good night's sleep in the medical pavilion now." As he finished speaking, he walked off the platform, blood dripping down his back.

But he wasn't in a hurry, because he knew that someone was definitely more anxious than him.

The gray-robed man's pupils trembled; he was indeed both anxious and angry. "You...you've also come to challenge me?"

Feng Ranran shook her head, put her hands on her hips, and looked at her with a disappointed expression.

"What kind of lousy swordsmanship is this? How could you possibly have stabbed Senior Brother Wang in the shoulder just now?"

"It should have been a direct stab through the heart!"

The gray-robed man and all the disciples below were dumbfounded.

She cleared her throat and said, "You, in pursuit of so-called aesthetics, you abandoned the simplest and most effective method. Ugh, how could such an overly deliberate, empty-headed swordsmanship possibly be the Nether Flower Divine Sword?!"

The people in the audience were shocked, because many of them had just a moment ago firmly believed that the gray-robed man was wielding the Netherworld Flower Divine Sword!

It's simply because they had seen Bai Qingqing use it before...

But only those in the know understand that everything he did was just deliberate imitation.

The gray-robed man wasn't an expert, but he knew these things about himself, so he was very angry and anxious.

"This little girl is so ignorant and arrogant, yet she's spreading rumors and misleading the public!"

"Hmm? Since I'm the one spreading rumors, then hurry up and expose me with your swordsmanship!" Feng Ranran smiled sweetly.

With such a sweet smile, I believe there are few men in this world who could resist it.

But the man in the gray robe was retreating step by step…

Feng Ranran smiled even more sweetly, "You don't dare to come? Then I'll have to come over."

Upon seeing her approaching with her sword, the gray-robed man almost cried out.

But he held onto this last bit of stubbornness, gripping the sword in his hand, which was much sharper than the opponent's, to fight the enemy who had seen right through him.

When the two swords clashed again, everyone could see that this was no longer a battle…

This is one party's complete control over the other, and utter humiliation.

Every sword strike from the gray-robed man was cleverly deflected by Feng Ranran as if she had anticipated it, and she always managed to counter with even faster, more efficient, and more graceful sword moves.

Even if he had that iron hand, so what? How could he possibly grasp such a light and exquisite sword? Even if he could exert boundless strength, wouldn't it all end up on his own body in the end?

Now, the sword had slipped from his hand, and the gray-robed man had staggered and fallen to the ground.

Feng Ranran leaned down and laughed, "Now? Who's spreading rumors and misleading the public?"

Almost everyone in the audience was looking at Feng Ranran's scar, but they all believed in their hearts that this masked man could not possibly be their Junior Uncle Chang'an.

The gray-robed man seemed not to believe it. He crawled laboriously, trying to retrieve his sword.

Feng Ranran continued, "Stop struggling. Every attack you launch will eventually fall back on your head."

The gray-robed man stopped, slowly turned his head, and said indignantly, "Really?"

“Anyway, it’s much more real than the fact that you’re Chang’an’s junior uncle,” Feng Ranran said with a smile.

"…………"

"Okay, okay, okay..."

The gray-robed man nodded repeatedly, as if he had fallen to the brink of madness...

Suddenly, he slammed his hand on the floor, stood up abruptly, and looked straight at the southwest corner of the arena.

The three disciples who had disappeared are now pushing that exquisite wooden cart back.

"Uncle-Master! Here's what you wanted!"

As the disciple shouted, the gray-robed man used his lightness skill to leap over the shoulders and heads of the disciples below the stage.

"How dare you be so rude!"

"You motherfucker's legs! I'll fucking kill you!"

Enraged, the crowd, relying on Feng Ranran on the stage, bravely surged forward.

At the same time, the cloth on the wooden cart was lifted, and a dazzling black and gold light tore through the sky, almost blinding everyone.

Upon seeing what was inside, everyone was so frightened that they retreated in fear, and their previous courage vanished in an instant.

It was a massive, black broadsword, black and gold in color. Just by looking at it from afar, one could tell that it was a treasured sword capable of cutting through gold and jade, and slicing through iron like mud.

"Is this knife... really meant for human use?"

"Impossible, no human could lift such a heavy knife."

The man in the gray robe gently stroked the blade, staring at it for a long time. During this time, no one else dared to step forward.

“A fine knife…a fine knife…I’ve finally found you again.” The gray-robed man murmured, then suddenly gripped the hilt of the knife tightly with his iron hand.

He roared and gave it his all.

A moment later, Black Knife began to tremble all over…

Slowly, with the boundless power of his iron hand, the gray-robed man finally... grasped the towering giant sword in his hand.

He slowly turned his head, his single eye filled with murderous intent.

"Now, do you really think it's true?"

Feng Ranran's expression had already changed drastically. "What...what kind of knife are you holding?"

"This is... something I've lost for so long. Now, it's finally back in my hands." After saying this, the gray-robed man charged onto the stage, sword in hand.

The blade tore through the sky, bringing with it gusts of wind.

The disciples had already neatly retreated to one side, leaving him a long path leading directly to the martial arts arena.

The gray-robed man leaped into the air and slashed down at Ranran, showing no mercy whatsoever.

Looking at the black blade in the sky, which was much larger than a person, Feng Ranran could no longer laugh...

At that moment, her icy hands were suddenly enveloped in warmth, and her trembling body gradually calmed down because of the solid support behind her.

Then, a very light and gentle warm breeze slowly blew into her ear:

"Don't be afraid, just follow my instructions."

It was a whisper that penetrated the soul, a familiar voice that filled Ranran with a strong masculine aura.

She dared not lift her already blushing face, but simply nodded slightly, uttering a barely audible sound:

"Um…"

The gray-robed man's giant sword had already fallen from above his head, but Feng Ranran only felt the warmth in her hands intensifying.

The person behind her, holding her hand, simply waved it casually as the gray-robed man reached his lowest point.

The gray-robed man was like a wild horse that had broken free of its reins. With a roar, he flew out along with his giant sword.

During this time, Feng Ranran did not look at the man in black robes again.

She only needed to listen to what the people behind her said, and she would do whatever they said. Before she knew it, she had completely fallen for them.

Now, a warm breeze blows into her ears again—a warm breeze brought by her smile.

"You really don't care about anything, huh?"

"Brother An, you're really amazing!" Ranran's ears were already red.

Chang'an laughed again, "If you were also chopped by that thing for three years, you would naturally become as powerful as me."