Seven Mysterious Spaces: My Rise to Power in the Cultivation World

Sunlight streamed onto the training ground, reflecting a dazzling light.

The place was bustling with activity and excitement; the annual sect competition had officially begun.

Zhuang Yu brought Wang Yao to the competition venue, immediately attracting everyone's attention.

Some people envied his recent fortuitous encounter with refining an ancient treasure, some were jealous of his rapid improvement in strength, and others were curious about how far he could go in the competition.

Various gazes converged, forming an invisible net that enveloped Zhuang Yu.

He sensed the intense competitive atmosphere, and without making a sound, he tightened his grip on Wang Yao's hand, giving her a reassuring look.

"Don't worry, I've got you covered," he said softly, his voice full of confidence.

Wang Yao returned the smile with a sweet smile, showing an almost blind trust in Zhuang Yu.

The drawing of lots began, and the elder's loud voice echoed across the training ground.

Zhuang Yu casually drew a slip of paper, which clearly read "Number Seven".

Almost simultaneously, a sarcastic voice rang in his ear: "Hey, isn't this Senior Brother Zhuang? What a coincidence, we've run into each other again."

Zhuang Yu looked up and saw Zhou Ming standing opposite him with a fake smile on his face.

A sinister glint flashed in Zhou Ming's eyes. He had long disliked Zhuang Yu, and he was determined to make Zhuang Yu lose face in this competition.

He had already secretly set up a trap to weaken spiritual power in the No. 7 competition venue, just waiting for Zhuang Yu to jump in.

"Yes, what a coincidence." Zhuang Yu's lips curled into a playful smile, as if he could see through Zhou Ming's thoughts.

He didn't point it out, but simply replied with a faint hint of mockery in his eyes.

"I hope Senior Brother Zhuang can show his true skills this time, and not win by luck like last time," Zhou Ming said with a forced smile, his tone full of provocation.

"Likewise." Zhuang Yu shrugged noncommittally and turned to walk towards the No. 7 competition arena.

Wang Yao followed closely behind, her eyes flashing with worry.

She always felt that Zhou Ming had ulterior motives, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what was wrong.

Zhuang Yu stood in the center of the competition arena, took a deep breath, and felt the rich spiritual energy around him.

He slowly closed his eyes, seemingly adjusting his state.

Suddenly, he sensed an unusual aura, an aura...

"Yao'er, look at the clouds over there..."

……

The color doesn't look right.

"Zhuang Yu pointed to the sky seemingly casually, but in reality, he was subtly reminding Wang Yao."

Wang Yao, quick-witted and perceptive, immediately understood. She discreetly observed her surroundings and indeed discovered that the clouds around the No. 7 competition venue were a darker color than those in other venues, and they faintly exuded an eerie aura.

"Looks like someone's eager to give me a big gift." Zhuang Yu's lips curled into a cold smile, and he already had a plan in mind.

The elder referee announced the start of the match.

Zhou Ming couldn't wait to unleash his magic weapon, a gleaming flying sword, which hurtled straight toward Zhuang Yu.

Zhuang Yu feigned panic and dodged, while secretly circulating his internal energy to try and mobilize the surrounding spiritual energy.

As expected, the flow of spiritual energy was extremely sluggish, as if it were being obstructed by something.

"Haha, Zhuang Yu, you're dead!" Zhou Ming laughed triumphantly, his attacks becoming even more ferocious.

The surrounding audience also started discussing it, some expressing regret, others gloating.

"It seems that Zhuang Yu is going to lose."

"What a pity. I finally managed to refine the ancient treasure, but I ran into that old fox Zhou Ming."

Wang Yao watched with bated breath, but she remained convinced that Zhuang Yu would not be easily defeated.

Just when everyone thought Zhuang Yu was powerless to turn the tide, he suddenly stopped dodging and a strange smile appeared on his lips.

"Zhou Ming, have you had enough fun?"

Zhou Ming was taken aback, a vague unease rising in his heart. "What do you mean?"

Zhuang Yu did not answer, but slowly raised his right hand and pointed to Zhou Ming's feet.

What's under your feet?

Zhou Ming's expression changed drastically, and he subconsciously looked down.

Suddenly, a complex array pattern appeared beneath his feet, emitting a faint red light.

He then realized that he had fallen into Zhuang Yu's trap.

"You...you found out a long time ago?" Zhou Ming asked in a terrified voice.

Zhuang Yu sneered, "I knew you were up to no good the moment you sneaked around to Arena Seven. This array that weakens spiritual energy, you set it up, didn't you?"

Zhou Ming's face turned pale, and he was speechless.

He never expected that Zhuang Yu would see through his carefully laid trap so easily.

“Now, it’s my turn.” A cold glint flashed in Zhuang Yu’s eyes, and a long sword radiating golden light suddenly appeared in his hand.

This is the ancient treasure he recently refined—the Golden Light Sword.

As soon as the golden sword appeared, the surrounding spiritual energy instantly surged, as if it had been summoned by some force.

Zhuang Yu seized the opportunity and launched a counterattack.

He unleashed a fierce sword technique, the sword flashing like golden lightning, slicing through the air and heading straight for Zhou Ming.

Zhou Ming was trapped in the formation, his spiritual power was suppressed, and he could only barely resist.

The power of the golden sword exceeded his expectations; each collision caused him excruciating pain.

He suffered repeated defeats, and soon several wounds appeared on his body.

The surrounding audience gasped in amazement. They hadn't expected Zhuang Yu to be so powerful, and they certainly hadn't expected Zhou Ming to resort to such despicable means.

"Zhou Ming, you've lost." Zhuang Yu's voice was cold and ruthless.

Wang Yao watched nervously from below the stage, her eyes filled with admiration as she saw Zhuang Yu gradually gain the upper hand.

She whispered, "Good luck, Brother Zhuang Yu."

Hearing her voice filled Zhuang Yu with even greater fighting spirit.

The golden sword shone brightly as he poured all his spiritual power into it, preparing to deliver the final blow to Zhou Ming.

"It's over." Zhuang Yu raised his golden sword high, the tip pointing directly at Zhou Ming's throat...

"Stop!" Elder Zhang's figure appeared on the dueling platform like a ghost, his hand steadily blocking the trajectory of the golden sword as it fell.

"The test is to be stopped at the last minute; killing is strictly prohibited!" His voice was deep, yet carried an undeniable authority.

Although Zhuang Yu felt unwilling, he understood Elder Zhang's intention.

He slowly sheathed the golden sword, and the golden light on its blade dimmed.

Zhou Ming scrambled to his feet, his face pale, his eyes filled with fear and resentment.

He glared at Zhuang Yu fiercely, then staggered away from the competition stage, clutching his wound.

"Zhuang Yu wins!" Elder Zhang announced the result of the competition. His gaze lingered on Zhuang Yu for a moment, seemingly with a hint of praise, yet also with a hint of warning.

The surrounding audience erupted in enthusiastic applause and cheers, celebrating Zhuang Yu's victory and expressing their disgust at Zhou Ming's scheming.

Wang Yao excitedly ran to Zhuang Yu's side, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Brother Zhuang Yu, you're amazing!"

Zhuang Yu smiled slightly and ruffled Wang Yao's hair.

"This is just the beginning." His gaze swept over the other contestants around him, a hint of seriousness flashing in his eyes.

He saw that the disciples of other sects were all exceptionally strong, including some hidden masters.

He knew that the upcoming matches would be even more challenging.

"Zhuang Yu, you really haven't disappointed me." A clear, cold voice came from behind. Zhuang Yu looked in the direction of the voice and saw a woman dressed in white walking slowly towards him.

She was stunningly beautiful and possessed an ethereal气质, like a banished immortal.

"Senior Sister." Zhuang Yu nodded slightly, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes.

This woman was none other than the chief disciple of his sect and his long-time rival—Lin Qingxue.

Lin Qingxue walked up to Zhuang Yu and stared intently at him.

"I hope you can give it your all in the next match."

"Of course." Zhuang Yu's lips curled into a confident smile. "I won't let you down."

Wang Yao noticed the subtle atmosphere between the two and felt a slight unease in her heart.

She always felt that this sect competition seemed to be hiding some unknown secret...

As night fell, Zhuang Yu sat cross-legged in his room, quietly regulating his breathing.

He recalled the scene of today's competition and couldn't help but feel a sense of vigilance.

Although Zhou Ming's conspiracy was exposed, it also made him realize that there were far more hidden dangers in this sect competition than he had imagined.

Suddenly, a knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Who?"

"It's me." A familiar voice came from inside.

Zhuang Yu opened the door and saw Wang Yao standing outside, holding a bowl of steaming hot medicine.

"Brother Zhuang Yu, this is a qi-boosting soup I specially made for you. Please have some."

Zhuang Yu took the medicine, a warm feeling welling up in her heart.

Looking into Wang Yao's concerned eyes, a thought suddenly arose in his mind...

"Yao'er," he put down the medicine, his voice low, "I..."