Volume One, Chapter Seventeen: The Brawl of the Battle Formation

"Ye Boyang of the Zhengjia Sect comes to challenge!" The voice arrived before the man himself, who, in the blink of an eye, stood sword in hand before the young man in white.

"Greetings, fellow Daoist!" Ruzhen’s brows arched in surprise, thinking, This man comes with hostile intent!

"Modesty, modesty!" Ye Boyang smiled as he cupped his hands, while Ruzhen only returned the gesture with a silent smile. The two stood on the stage, neither willing to make the first move. The crowd below grew restless and began to shout.

"The guest strikes first!" Ye Boyang extended his right hand in invitation, signaling that Ruzhen should begin. Now Ruzhen had nowhere to retreat; he could only advance, fan in hand. In a flash, the two were locked in combat. Ruzhen's attacks were fierce, a fragrant breeze filling the air. Ye Boyang leapt and dodged, evading every move with ease. Ruzhen grew anxious, and with a sudden surge, his fan’s power intensified. Ye Boyang formed a mudra with his left hand, drew his sword with his right. A burst of flame shot from the sword, instantly burning Ruzhen’s beautiful embroidered fan to nothing but a charred skeleton. Fortunately, Ruzhen retreated in time, or he himself would have been set aflame. Even so, his hair and face were blackened, and his elegance from moments before had vanished.

"Heh heh! The pretty boy’s turned into a little black imp!" Laughter erupted from the crowd.

Ruzhen ignored them, his attention fixed on Ye Boyang, who leapt forward with sword raised. Ruzhen immediately swung the fan’s skeleton. Ye Boyang was unprepared for another fragrant breeze—fan or no fan, the effect was the same. His limbs suddenly felt weak; in a desperate move, he rolled to the ground, hurling his sword as he did. The blade pierced straight through the fan, aiming for Ruzhen’s face. Ruzhen twisted aside just in time.

Before Ruzhen could counter, Ye Boyang pressed his advantage, hands forming seals as he muttered incantations. Ruzhen was mid-swing when he felt a sudden wind at his back—disaster! He spun and fell back, only to see the sword, as if alive, speeding toward his skull. Though he dodged in time, a lock of hair was shorn off.

Ye Boyang, springing to his feet, pressed on relentlessly. The sword arced in the air, then hurtled toward Ruzhen’s throat. He barely had time to react before the blade’s tip hovered at his neck.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd.

"Stop!" thundered Daoist Feixu from below. The sword halted instantly in midair.

"To spare another is to spare oneself! Do you still look like a cultivator?" Feixu chastised Ye Boyang sternly.

"Master, your disciple admits his fault! My skills are lacking—I lost control. Please, punish me!" Ye Boyang quickly retrieved his sword, knelt, and confessed. In truth, he had intended to stop at the last moment, but his master had acted first, leaving him no choice but to yield.

"Ah, youth! It was an accident. Let’s continue the contest," several allied sects called out, smoothing things over as they led Feixu back to his seat.

Afterward, Ye Boyang defeated several more challengers in succession.

Qi Yuanxiao nudged Jin Guishan. "Senior brother, if you went up, you’d beat him for sure! With your cultivation…"

"No wonder the thousand taels of gold—ends up back in his family’s hands! I knew it…" He Lingchi grumbled in frustration.

"Junior sister…" Jin Guishan shot her a warning glance. She stuck out her tongue and fell silent.

As expected, Ye Boyang ultimately claimed the championship. Though there was some discontent among the crowd, no one voiced their complaints openly, only muttering among themselves. Daoist Feixu pretended not to notice. "Everyone, it’s nearly noon. Our sect has prepared a meal for all. After food and drink, we’ll resume the contests this afternoon!" At his words, dozens of young Daoists bustled about, serving dishes. Yi Bing and Fat Girl shivered with delight.

"Battle again in the afternoon? Wasn’t the competition over?" Yi Bing asked Jin Guishan curiously.

"This afternoon is the formation contest. We’re in it too!" Fat Girl chimed in.

Jin Guishan smiled. "Brother Mu, we’ll be counting on you again this afternoon!"

"Oh… oh…" thought Yi Bing, If effort is needed this afternoon, I’d better eat more!

"Brother Mu, help me out!" Fat Girl suddenly handed him half a carrot, pointing to her back. Yi Bing understood at once and tucked the carrot into her pouch. Fat Girl was thoughtful—nearly forgot Han Yu was still hungry!

After a sumptuous meal of fruit and tea, Daoist Feixu leapt onto the stage with a radiant smile. "Fellow Daoists, as we roam the world, fighting evil and subduing monsters, at times even the greatest cultivation is not enough. Thus, all sects possess powerful formations for demon suppression. Today, let us see whose formation is supreme, and learn from each other!"

"The Jade Immortal Sect humbly requests guidance!" As soon as Feixu finished speaking, a burly man and six companions leapt onto the stage. Among them was the soot-stained Ruzhen.

"Well, well! Truly magnanimous—who dares face them?" Feixu looked around. In the northwest corner, someone stood.

"The Sea and Sky Sect accepts the challenge!" With that, a group of a dozen surged forward. The Jade Immortal Sect quickly took their positions.

"Heh, is this the famous Descent of the Seven Fairies formation?" the Sea and Sky leader asked, provoking laughter from the audience.

"Xuanshan of Jade Immortal Sect, leading my junior brothers, requests your instruction!" the burly man replied amiably, leading his team into the fray.

"Guancang Hai of Sea and Sky Sect, leading my junior brothers, accepts the challenge!" A dozen figures rushed forward like a school of fish.

The Seven Immortals Formation of the Jade Immortal Sect, derived from the legend of the Seven Fairies, was likely why Xuanshan was unfazed by the jest. The seven men shifted left and right, stepping in astral patterns, moving as if dancing gracefully—yet as burly men, their coquettish airs were hard to stomach. Sea and Sky, on the other hand, moved in two columns, advancing and retreating in perfect unison, their formation seamless.

After several exchanges, neither side prevailed. Growing anxious, the Jade Immortals brought out their magical artifacts—jade flutes, medicinal hoes, bamboo pipes, and silver shuttles—all poetic and picturesque. Ruzhen wielded his fan, now featureless, but the Sea and Sky formation’s coordinated offense and defense rendered his efforts futile.

Xuanshan, growing more impatient, glanced at Ruzhen, who immediately signaled the others. At the next clash, the seven leapt into the air, descending from above. Sea and Sky, caught off guard by the aerial assault, fell into chaos and were swiftly defeated.

"Wow, they really are the Seven Fairies!" Fat Girl cheered, her face aglow with admiration.

Yi Bing couldn’t help but imagine Fat Girl descending from the sky, and burst out laughing.

"What are you laughing at?" Fat Girl glared at him.

"Nothing, nothing… Hey, someone else is on stage!" Yi Bing changed the subject quickly.

The new challengers were a rough bunch—bearded, bare-chested, looking every inch like hunters.

"The Southern Woodcutters come to challenge!" They’d barely spoken before the fight began. After three exchanges, the Southern Woodcutters sat down in unison, chanting. Suddenly, from the eastern hillside came a thunderous noise—dozens of giant trees uprooted themselves and floated to the stage, attacking like living beings. Each tree wielded countless branches as arms, overwhelming the Jade Immortals.

Seeing defeat near, the Jade Immortals tried their aerial tactic again, but the trees’ canopies blocked their ascent. Just then, the disciple with the jade flute played a melody—clear and poignant, like lovers’ laughter and weeping, lingering and haunting. The Southern Woodcutters grew restless and disoriented; their chanting faltered, and the trees’ attacks became erratic.

Seizing the moment, Ruzhen unleashed a gust between two trees, sending the Southern Woodcutter disciples tumbling off the stage.

"Senior brother, isn’t this like that flirtatious… the magic of the Seven-Tailed Fox?" He Lingchi said with distaste. Jin Guishan frowned but said nothing.

The Jade Immortal Sect defeated several more sects in succession. When no one else dared to challenge them, Ruzhen’s face shone with pride. "Anyone else dare come up?"

"Heh, time for the Zhengjia Sect again…" Before He Lingchi could finish, Ye Boyang leapt onto the stage with a roar, "Zhengjia Sect requests instruction!" The crowd booed.

"Good! Good!" Xuanshan’s eyes blazed as he struck down with his medicinal hoe. The Jade Immortal disciples charged forward, eager to reclaim their morning’s lost face.

Ye Boyang blocked with his sword, and his sect’s disciples instantly withdrew several paces. When the flutist raised his instrument, the audience below quickly covered their ears, but the Zhengjia disciples seemed unaffected, likely having blocked their ears ahead of time. The Jade Immortal disciples hesitated, but soon a sweet flute melody filled the air, conjuring the illusion of several half-naked fairies dancing. The Zhengjia disciples blushed, but Ye Boyang remained unmoved, lunging straight for the flutist. The flutist retreated, and as the music ceased, the Zhengjia disciples attacked him in unison—only Xuanshan’s hoe saved him from serious injury.

"Impressive skill!" Xuanshan praised, swinging at Ye Boyang, who dodged a flash of lightning by retreating three steps.

"You’re no slouch yourself!" Ye Boyang retorted fiercely, stepping back, forming seals with his left hand and drawing his sword with his right. His disciples spread out in a circle, surrounding him, each forming seals and drawing swords as flames burst from every blade, converging into a massive jet of fire from Ye Boyang’s sword, sweeping across the stage with such force that even the audience felt the searing heat. Though the Jade Immortals reacted quickly and jumped down, they were still left singed and disheveled.

"Enough! Enough!" Xuanshan, forced from the stage, was filled with shame and quickly stopped his disciples from returning to fight. Though he had anticipated a fire attack, he had not expected its sheer magnitude.

"We haven’t lost yet!" Ruzhen, eyes blazing, was nearly singed again.

"Let it go, we’ve already left the stage," Xuanshan reasoned. They weren’t truly defeated in formation, but leaving the stage was still humiliating.

"Well, looks like we can go home now!" Watching Zhengjia win again, Qi Yuanxiao cast a resentful glance at Jin Guishan.

"What, is that thousand taels of gold so tempting?" Jin Guishan saw through him at once.

"It’s not just about gold! Master sent us here to compete in the Immortal Gathering, and all we’ve done is eat and watch—how will we explain that when we return?"

"What’s the point of more contests? We’ve already lost twice on the road—haven’t we embarrassed ourselves enough?"

"That was just bad luck… If only…" Qi Yuanxiao trailed off.

"Ah, junior brother, it’s not that I don’t want to compete. But didn’t you catch Feixu’s hints yesterday?"

"Of course I did! He just doesn’t want you on stage! He keeps talking about reducing conflict, but really he wants to expand Zhengjia’s influence!"

"If you know that, why say more?"

"Because I’m not reconciled!" Qi Yuanxiao stiffened in frustration.

"Let it go, senior brothers. Why should cultivators care about victory and defeat? Lunch will be served soon—aren’t you hungry?" Fat Girl squeezed in.

"Eat, eat, eat—that’s all you care about!" Jin Guishan and Qi Yuanxiao snapped in unison, then both burst out laughing. Fat Girl pouted and ignored them.

"Any other sects willing to come up?" Ye Boyang called several times, but no one stirred. He glanced at Feixu, who nodded slightly.

"You are all too modest! The world is full of marvelous formations, each with its own strengths and weaknesses…" As he spoke, Ye Boyang’s gaze settled on Jin Guishan. "For instance, the Black Tortoise Formation of the Misty Cloud Sect is renowned across the land. It’s said your sect made its name by slaying dragons and subduing demons with it. Why not demonstrate it for us today? Or is it…"

"What are you implying?" Qi Yuanxiao shot to his feet.

Ye Boyang smiled faintly. "I merely wonder if you’re feeling unwell, and thus unwilling to let me experience this legendary formation?"

"Legendary?" If Jin Guishan hadn’t held him back, Qi Yuanxiao would have leapt onstage. Fury roiled in Jin Guishan’s heart. Feixu, what are you playing at? Yesterday you hinted we shouldn’t compete; now you send your disciple to provoke us! You want us to perform shorthanded so you can steal the glory!

"No, no, we just want to witness the legendary formation! Legendary!" Ye Boyang’s tone dripped with mockery.

"Junior Nephew Ye, we cultivators care not for victory or defeat. Our sect came simply to broaden our horizons, not to compete for gold," Jin Guishan replied quickly, prompting embarrassed looks from the crowd.

"Oh? So gold is beneath you, but the honor of your grandmaster is also worth nothing?" Ye Boyang was determined to force Misty Cloud onto the stage, even resorting to such cutting words. Even Daoist Feixu frowned but remained silent.

Jin Guishan arched a brow and fell silent. With things at this point, refusing would be impossible. He turned to his brothers. "Feixu the scoundrel! He saw we only brought six, so the Black Tortoise Formation is weakened. Now he changes his mind and forces us up to make a name for himself! We have no way out—we must do our best to preserve Master’s honor!"

"Brother Mu, we hadn’t planned on competing again, so we didn’t teach you more. It’s too late now—we must ask you to do your best for us!" Jin Guishan was wracked with regret.

"I’ll carry Little White Rabbit," Yi Bing offered, understanding his place as a stand-in; Fat Girl, however, was another matter. She handed him her bundle without hesitation.