The moment the final strike settled into silence, all eyes remained locked on the motionless figure of Meng Lu.
Lao Xie stood at the center of the platform, his sword lowered casually to his side. He didn't look proud, or even particularly interested. If anything, his expression was still the same as before — unbothered, faintly distant, like someone who had merely taken a stroll and was now waiting for the road to clear.
He turned slightly toward the elder still standing nearby.
"Can I leave now?" he asked.
His voice wasn't loud, but it rang clearly across the hushed Martial Hall — smooth, quiet, and entirely unfitting for the chaos he'd just caused.
Elder Mu blinked, the question catching him off guard. It was too casual, too flat, as if Lao Xie hadn't just made half the audience question everything they knew about cultivation.
He coughed once, deliberately, and straightened his back.
"Ahem. Winner — Lao Xie," he announced, his voice projected by a sound array as medics rushed in from the side of the platform.
Their footsteps echoed as they approached the fallen Meng Lu, checking his condition and lifting him off the stage.
Lao Xie didn't wait to watch. He stepped down from the platform, his footsteps light as ever, and made his way toward the exit.
By now, the atmosphere inside the Martial Hall had shifted again. Conversations had started to pick back up, but it was different now — softer, more cautious. The air no longer carried the careless noise of gamblers or the smug chatter of inner disciples. Instead, it was filled with something quieter.
Uncertainty.
And behind that uncertainty, fear.
But Lao Xie paid it no mind. The crowd parted for him without being asked, and he walked straight through, his back straight and his pace steady.
He exited the Martial Hall without ever once looking back.
Outside, the wind was softer.
The sunlight had shifted angles now, casting longer shadows across the stone paths that connected the various buildings of Silver Crescent Peak. A few disciples were scattered here and there — some just arriving, others already whispering about what had happened inside.
Lao Xie barely glanced at them, he walked with quiet steps, the stone path beneath his feet still warm from the afternoon sun. The Martial Hall was already far behind him, yet the echoes of the crowd lingered in the back of his mind.
He had just turned a corner near one of the main courtyards when a familiar figure stepped into view.
Ling Ruxin stood there, her posture relaxed, one hand lightly adjusting the jade pin in her hair.
"Senior brother, you're not in a hurry to disappear again, are you?" she asked, her tone calm but edged with a trace of something teasing.
Lao Xie glanced sideways, expression unchanged. "Not particularly."
"Also, there's no need for the formality." he added.
"Mhm, O-okay…" she said with an awkward tone followed by a brief silence for a few seconds.
"By the way, I want you to come somewhere with me." she added.
He gave her a glance, but didn't stop walking. She kept pace beside him, her steps quiet, graceful as always.
"Huh…Where?" he asked.
"Cloudsky Market."
His brow lifted slightly. "Isn't that outside the sect?"
"It is," she replied. "And no, before you ask, I'm not taking you there for fun."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking it," she said.
He gave a faint breath, halfway between a sigh and a chuckle. "I thought outer disciples weren't allowed there."
"They're not, usually," Ling Ruxin said simply. "But it's not a rule — more like an understanding. Most outer disciples don't bother since they can't afford anything there."
"And you think I can?"
She didn't answer right away. "I think you're not like most outer disciples."
He glanced her way again. "You're not worried about others talking?"
"They already are," she said. "If you're really concerned about gossip, you shouldn't have defeated Meng Lu with a single strike."
They reached the slope that led toward the lower sect gate, where outer sect disciples usually came and went for errands or assignments.
"I thought you might be interested," Ling Ruxin added lightly. "Cloudsky Market has things the Resource Pavilion doesn't. Pills, scrolls, rare materials… You'll see."
Lao Xie said nothing for a few steps. The path sloped gently ahead, flanked by pale stone railings and trees just beginning to turn gold at the tips. A breeze moved past them — light, cool, and quiet.
"…So you brought me along just to play errand boy?"
"No," Ling Ruxin replied. "I'm not buying anything. I'm only showing you around."
He gave her a side glance. "That's unlike you."
"I'm allowed to be curious," she said. "And after that match, I'm not the only one."
"Hm."
They passed a pair of disciples on the steps — one paused mid-conversation, the other lowering their voice once they recognized Lao Xie's face. He didn't bother reacting.
Before long, the sect's outer gate came into view ahead — a large arched pass carved into the side of the mountain wall, guarded on either side by uniformed sect attendants holding jade tablets.
All disciples leaving the grounds had to register their departure. Even inner court members weren't exempt from the rule.
As they approached, one of the guards stepped forward, bowing slightly as he noticed Ling Ruxin's robes. His eyes darted briefly toward Lao Xie but didn't linger.
"Sister Ling," he greeted. "Heading outside?"
"Yes," she replied. "Ling Ruxin of Flowing Note Peak, temporary outing. This is Lao Xie, accompanying me."
The guard didn't question it. The news has covered almost the entire sect, especially after what had happened inside the Martial Hall, the name Lao Xie had already begun circulating.
He lifted his jade slip and activated a faint array. "Names recorded. You're clear to leave. Return before nightfall unless otherwise permitted."
Ling Ruxin nodded, then stepped through the gate. Lao Xie followed behind, his steps as unhurried as ever.
Beyond the archway, the slope continued down toward the outer ridge path, the sect slowly giving way to trees and rocky hills. The sound of sect bells faded, replaced by birdsong and the steady breeze coming off the forest canopy.
"You seem calm," Ling Ruxin said as they walked. "After that kind of match, I expected you to act a little more… smug."
"Is that how you see me?"
"Not really," she replied, her tone light. "But I think most people would be basking in the attention by now."
Lao Xie didn't respond immediately. He reached up and brushed a few loose strands of hair from his eyes.
"There's nothing worth basking in," he said finally. "The match was predictable. And the crowd's memory is short," at least that's what he thought.
Ling Ruxin gave him a thoughtful glance but didn't push further. Instead, they continued in quiet rhythm — two figures moving down the quiet ridge trail, neither hurrying, neither slowing.
Cloudsky Market.
The Cloudsky Market located not far from the sect and by the time they reached the foot of the hill, the landscape had already shifted.
The Cloudsky Market stood just ahead — a wide stone courtyard surrounded by tall, elegant walls carved with intricate array patterns. Dozens of glowing lanterns swayed from hanging beams, and faint spiritual pressure drifted from within. The entire complex pulsed with low, refined energy — controlled, monitored, and unmistakably protected.
At the gate, four armed guards stood stationed, their uniforms clean and silver-edged with the cloud-shaped insignia of the market's private owner. None of them looked like mere attendants.
As Lao Xie and Ling Ruxin approached, one of the guards stepped forward, gaze sharp but neutral.
"Identification," he said, not impolite, but not overly friendly either.
Ling Ruxin handed over her jade name token. "Ling Ruxin, inner disciple of Flowing Note Peak. I'm here for a short visit."