A magical journey of a sharp-tongued woman and a goofy man

The smoke from the bronze cauldron soared into the sky, and Ye Shuli stuffed the fragment of the Kunlun Mirror back into her clothes.

Thirty-six war drums sounded in unison around the training ground, and the banners of various families fluttered in the strong wind.

"The Ye family has drawn the 'A' character!" As soon as the steward in charge of the draw finished speaking, three Ye family youths leaped onto the arena.

Ye Mingxuan, who was in the lead, swung his nine-section whip to entangle his opponent's ankle, while the other two tacitly flanked him from the left and right, forcing the opponent out of the ring within ten moves.

"This round doesn't count!" the defeated Zhou family member shouted, wiping his bloodied nose. "You attacked from behind!"

Ye Shuli leaned against the carved railing of the spectator stands, pouring the gunpowder powder from the ceramic jar into a bamboo tube: "There's no rule on the stage about waiting for your opponent to get into a horse stance." She blew the powder off her fingertips, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw the goatee-bearded referee on the referee's stand secretly shining a bronze mirror into the Ye family's preparation area—the light reflected from the mirror fell on the inside of the second young master Ye's collar, where an anti-reconnaissance talisman was embroidered.

In seven consecutive arena matches, the younger generation of the Ye family swept through the competition with unstoppable momentum.

Ye Mingyu used a modified version of the Mandarin Duck Formation to trap three body cultivators, and Ye Mingchuan even used a black iron shield to deflect the poison needles.

The spectator stands gradually stirred, and several smaller families began copying down the footwork patterns of the Ye family members.

"The final match is against the Bai family." Jiang Ye squatted beside the weapons rack, chewing on a candied hawthorn. The lens of his binoculars reflected the scene in the opposite preparation area. "That girl in their peacock blue dress has to reapply her lip rouge every fifteen minutes."

Ye Shuli narrowed her eyes upon hearing this.

The five people sent by the Bai family appeared to be standing loosely, but in reality, the toes of each of their boots were pointed at the vital points of the Ye family members.

She suddenly pulled a tattered page from her sleeve and projected the watermark pattern onto the ground in the midday sun: "Switch to the Three Talents Formation, and immediately use a smoke bomb after breaking the formation."

The moment the final gong sounded, the leader of the Bai family waved the command flag.

The five Bai family cultivators suddenly formed a cone-shaped formation, and the silver threads that flew out from their sleeves formed a spider web in the air.

Just as Ye Mingxuan was about to swing his whip, he heard Ye Shuli's whistle—three short whistles followed by one long one, a signal to retreat.

"Release!" The three members of the Ye family threw out bamboo tubes at the same time, and the gunpowder powder exploded and ignited when it met the wind.

The sound of tearing fabric came from the thick smoke. The spectators only saw Ye Mingyu rush out of the smoke, holding a shield covered with reflective runes, and a blinding beam of light shot straight into the center of the spider web.

The silver threads melted upon contact with light, and the Bai family cultivators, in their hasty retreat, stumbled into a pre-laid animal trap.

"It's an improvement on the principle of modern solar cookers." Jiang Ye winked at the dumbfounded referee, and the camera shutter precisely captured the distorted expression on the Bai family leader's face.

Ye Shuli had already circled around to the west side of the arena, and the magnet hidden in her sleeve interfered with the opponent's array master's compass.

When the last cultivator of the Bai family had his ankle bound by his own Immortal Binding Rope, seven Kongming lanterns suddenly rose in the Ye family's preparation area.

The warm yellow light formed the Big Dipper pattern, making the plaque of "A Century-Old Prominent Family" on the referee's stand shine like gilded gold.

Ye Shuli stared at the flickering flame inside the lantern—the flame was swaying in sync with the altar fire reflected in the Kunlun Mirror three hundred miles away.

Jiang Ye was fiddling with the focusing knob of the binoculars when he suddenly noticed that the gemstone on Ye Mingchuan's sword was reflecting light.

With his fingertips dipped in the syrup from the candied hawthorn, he drew a few scribbled geometric shapes on the blue brick, his smile gradually becoming like that of a child who had found a new toy.

Suddenly, the fragment of the Kunlun Mirror felt hot inside her clothes. As Ye Shuli pressed her hand to her chest, Jiang Ye had already leaped onto the arena in the southeast corner.

He had half a candied hawthorn skewer in his mouth, the tip of the skewer gleaming with an eerie blue hue in the sunlight.

"You dare challenge me even at the early stage of a Spirit Master?" The woman using her beauty to her advantage covered her mouth and giggled, the silver bell at her waist swaying and emitting a mesmerizing sound wave.

The stands were immediately filled with the fragrance of gardenias, and several young men in the front row leaned forward with wide eyes.

Jiang Ye took out a portable camera from his pocket and snapped three quick photos of Yinling with the flash.

In the blinding white light of burning magnesium powder, everyone could clearly see the spiral patterns formed by sound waves in the air.

He leaped into the air, stepping on the back of an audience chair, and the bamboo skewer precisely pierced the seventh ripple, the weakest point of the sound wave.

The silver bell shattered with a loud bang, and the woman staggered backward, exclaiming, "How could you...?"

"The sound wave frequency is 320 times per second, and the resonance point is at the third engraving on the bell tongue." Jiang Ye twirled the bamboo skewer as he jumped off the stage, casually sticking the syrup-covered skewer into the fruit plate on the judges' table. "Next time, remember to use tungsten steel."

Looking at the abrasions on the back of his neck that were bleeding, Ye Shuli suddenly remembered the wavy lines Jiang Ye had drawn on the rice paper last night when he stayed up all night studying ancient music books.

At this moment, those lines were reflected on his gunpowder-stained eyelashes, changing into a code to break the formation as his eyelashes trembled.

The moment the Bai family cultivator fell off the arena, flames suddenly erupted in the northwest spectator stands.

The leader of the rival family, his black cloak billowing like a night owl, hurled a ball of lightning from his palm toward the Ye family's prepared area.

Jiang Ye flicked out the copper wire wrapped around his wrist, and the ten silk threads soaked in saltpeter stretched into a spider web in the air.

"Catch!" Ye Shuli tossed the magnetic compass over.

The instant the lightning struck the copper mesh, Jiang Ye wedged the compass into the gap of the weapon rack.

The moment the electromagnetic field was formed, the thunderstorm ball changed direction and hurtled towards the enemy stands.

Amidst the crackling sound and the acrid smell of molten metal, he licked away the blood seeping from his tiger's mouth and made a shooting gesture towards the depths of the thick smoke.

Seven chimes rang out from the judges' stand, and the goatee-bearded judge trembled as he unfurled a golden scroll: "The champion of this tournament—the Ye family of Qingzhou!"

The cheers shook the snow off the eaves.

Ye Mingyu arranged the reflective shields into steps, and the Ye family youths stepped on the light spots and leaped onto the podium.

When the clan leader received the gilded token, all twenty-eight clans lowered their flags to half-mast. Only the Ye family's flag, embroidered with a black bird, unfurled into a burning phoenix under the influence of spiritual power.

Jiang Ye, however, stared at the wreckage of the thunderstorm ball that had rolled to his feet.

The charred outer shell was covered with cinnabar mineral powder unique to the Kunlun Mountains. This material was supposed to have arrived at the Bai family's warehouse three days ago.

He calmly took out his pocket watch, and the newly added scratches on the back of the dial matched the texture of the wreckage perfectly.

"Something's not right." He squeezed behind the podium, blocking everyone's view with his body. "The charging time for the Bai family's Thunderstorm Technique..."

Ye Shuli was touching the pattern on the champion token with her fingertips when she heard this and suddenly stopped.

The groove on the inside of the token perfectly matched the outline of the fragment of the Kunlun Mirror in her clothes, but the cold touch reminded her of the meteorite fragment that pierced her chest that night.

The celebratory wine was poured for the seventh time, and the clan chief lit the Seven Star Lamp on the altar.

The leaping flames, which should have reflected the Big Dipper formation, strangely coalesced into the shape of pupils.

Ye Shuli took a half step back and discovered that the altar fire reflected in the Kunlun Mirror three hundred miles away was half a breath slower than the scene on site.

"Tomorrow at midnight, we will hold a meeting at the ancestral hall." She crushed the communication jade talisman, and the fragments drifted towards the seats of the four elders in the east, west, south, and north.

Jiang Ye squatted in the shadow of the eaves, assembling the improved sextant, the candied hawthorn skewers casting long, thin shadows on the star map model.

When the Kongming lantern reached its highest point, he saw a pair of gray-blue eyes that did not belong to any of his people reflected in the gemstone on Ye Mingchuan's sword.

The tiles clattered softly, and all seven lanterns swayed simultaneously.

Ye Shuli pressed the hidden weapon pouch at her waist and turned around. The clamor of the victory celebration suddenly seemed to be separated by heavy water.

She clearly saw the same crack patterns on the edge of the Kunlun Mirror appear on the back of the clan leader's hand as when he raised the cup.

The Big Dipper quietly shifted three degrees, and the candle tears on the altar condensed into blood-red characters at the bottom of the bronze cauldron.

As the night wind swept away the last drumbeat, the two men on the top floor of the library simultaneously looked up—the firelight three hundred miles away had completely vanished.