I heard you had a white moonlight who died young.

Fan Zhiyi used all her strength to pull him back: "Wait, Zhuang Yujing, don't be impulsive!"

Nevertheless, Fan Zhiyi was quickly dragged a few steps. Zhuang Yujing was about to reprimand Fan Zhiyi for letting go when she discovered that her voice had been muted.

It goes without saying who did it, but Fan Zhiyi really has to thank Bing Nandong this time, otherwise if this young master had yelled, everything would have been exposed!

"Fan Zhiyi, all my spirit stones are in the Qiankun bag in the wooden box under the bed in the room. Also, I didn't bring my magic artifacts today; they're by my pillow."

Before Fan Zhiyi could react to what Bing Nandong meant, Bing Nandong gave him no time to think. He leaped up and swiftly swept past everyone to catch the falling purple-clad man, bringing him to a safe landing. Then, he politely released his hand, saying, "Excuse me."

Bing Nandong raised his eyes and looked directly at the person opposite him. Qin Qianchi casually flicked his hand and grinned, saying each word clearly: "Bing, Nan, Dong".

“Next, I am your opponent.” Bing Nandong looked at the Tianyun Sect disciple who was calling out the order below. The disciple looked expressionlessly at the sect leader sitting in the high position. Seeing the sect leader nod, he said, “Qin Qianchi wins. Next, Bing Nandong.”

Lin Taiyin's face was severely bruised, bloodstains hung from his mouth, and his hair and clothes were disheveled, making him look quite pathetic. But he chuckled and said, "I thought you wouldn't save me."

Bing Nandong did not speak, and a disciple came forward to help Lin Taiyin off the stage.

Qin Qianchi looked at Bing Nandong, who didn't seem particularly strong, with disdain: "I've heard a lot about you."

Bing Nandong clasped his hands in a salute to him, and in the next instant, the other party's fist struck like lightning.

A gust of wind from the punch tore through the air, stirring up invisible currents. Bing Nandong dodged to the side, but his opponent's attack was incredibly fast, swiftly sweeping back with a leg kick. Bing Nandong used his left hand to cast a spell, and with just a light, effortless movement, he actually forced his opponent several meters away, successfully escaping danger.

Then, Bing Nandong stepped forward to meet Qin Qianchi's fist, and with both hands he twisted incantations and pulled outwards, using icy blue spiritual energy to separate the fist.

Even with brute force, Qin Qianchi couldn't push forward. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Bing Nandong dodged another punch, circled around, and struck several pressure points on his opponent.

Enraged, Qin Qianchi became even more ruthless in her attacks.

Forced to retreat a few steps, Bing Nandong fixed his gaze on Qin Qianchi, his hair brushing against the side of his face, and chanted a spell with his left hand: "Break."

A tremendous surge of spiritual energy erupted in several different parts of Qin Qianchi's body, forcing him backward.

Just as he was about to fly off the dueling platform, he reached out and the spiked club held by the Wanren Hall disciple fell into his hand. He slammed it into the ground, creating a huge hole. His figure spun half a circle in the air before he immediately charged towards Bing Nandong with the spiked club: "Bing Nandong, nothing special!"

Bing Nandong moved swiftly, his gaze sharp, and drew the sword from behind him.

The moment the two forces clashed, the yellow and blue spiritual energies collided, almost overturning the entire arena, but were locked inside by the barrier, preventing them from affecting those outside.

Fan Zhiyi felt a tightness in his chest and subconsciously pinched the back of his hand with his fingernails to relieve the tension with pain. Zhuang Yujing also looked solemn, almost staring a hole through the competition platform.

Sandstorms raged within the barrier, and the sounds of weapons clashing could be heard, followed by a few muffled groans from within.

When the scene on stage became clear again, Bing Nandong's sword just happened to grazed his opponent's neck. The force of the sword forced him to retreat, and at the same time, his opponent's spiked club landed squarely on Bing Nandong's abdomen.

Bing Nandong turned around, his clothes tracing a clean arc, and then he knelt on one knee, ignoring the blood that spilled from his lips with his sleeve, staining nearly half of his face red.

Both men were covered in wounds. Qin Qianchi staggered a few steps before regaining his balance, blood dripping from his mouth as he let out a strange, mocking laugh. Then, he raised his spiked club and charged forward to chop it down on Qin Qianchi's head.

Bing Nandong twisted and turned, using his sword to block the opponent's attack. He swept his leg towards the opponent's neck, but his ankle was grabbed. He simply made a neat sword flourish and then let go, using the sword to distract the opponent. With his other foot, he kicked the opponent in a place where he was not prepared, forcing him to the edge of the stage.

Qin Qianchi vomited a lot of blood, roared, and the entire arena floor shook, with sharp spikes extending out and stabbing towards Bing Nandong.

Bing Nandong was unable to dodge in time and flipped in mid-air before landing. Before he could even stand up, more spikes appeared on the ground beneath his feet.

As he hurriedly dodged, Qin Qianchi suddenly appeared from nowhere, his spiked club gleaming fiercely: "Bing Nandong, now that my grand formation is complete, this entire arena is my territory. I'm going to kill you!"

Bing Nandong reached out and summoned his sword to block, but his tiger's mouth went numb.

Qin Qianchi was already bloodthirsty: "If I kill you, I'll be the most qualified candidate!"

"The Ghost Gate doesn't need ruthless people. Stop now."

"Ha, that's because you don't understand! A soft-hearted person can't achieve great things!"

From a distance, Fan Zhiyi couldn't hear what they were saying, but Zhuang Yujing muttered to himself, "What candidate? What does it have to do with the gates of hell?" He looked at Fan Zhiyi, "Did Bing Nandong tell you that?"

Fan Zhiyi was taken aback, thinking to himself that these were the same two terms that had appeared in Xue Xiuniang's diary, but outwardly he shook his head.

"I doubt you would know either." Zhuang Yujing's attention returned to the stage.

Another spike burst from the ground. Bing Nandong turned his gaze and swung his sword to slash at it, dodging Qin Qianchi's attack once again. His sword energy sliced ​​away all obstacles. He then leaped up, predicted the location where the next spike would appear, and used his spiritual power to create a barrier on it, observing the formation taking shape.

The next instant, the spikes suddenly retracted, then stretched out towards Bing Nandong's heart like a nimble venomous snake.

"Looking for the array's core?" Qin Qianchi appeared behind him without his noticing. "Without a core, my array has no flaws."

Bing Nandong turned around to fight him, while constantly dodging the spikes that appeared everywhere. Unwittingly, his hands and feet were tied to the spikes and pulled upwards, causing him to lose control of his body.

Qin Qianchi looked at him and said, "You're too weak."

"Qin Qianchi, obtaining the qualification is not a reason for you to kill. Stop now."

Qin Qianchi looked at Bing Nandong, who was completely under her control, and sneered disdainfully: "Remember this in your next life: those who meddle in other people's business don't live long."

Extremely long and thin spikes came toward Bing Nandong. Bing Nandong made a hand seal and did not try to avoid them, letting the spikes pierce through his shoulder blades.

Fan Zhiyi stared blankly at everything happening on the stage, his eyes wide open, his pupils constantly contracting, and everything around him made him feel dazed.

Bing Nandong was like a tattered rag doll hanging from a leash, as if she had lost all power to resist.