Less than an hour later, the official challenge arrived.
A sharp, sword-shaped paper crane, pulsing with Jian Wuchen's distinctively cold sword qi, shot through the sky and impaled itself into the wooden gatepost of their courtyard with a soft thwack.
The message was curt and public: "Jian Wuchen of the First Peak challenges Yue Qingqian of the Ninth Peak to a duel of Dao verification. Arena of Blades. Three days' time."
The news exploded across the Tianxuan Sect.
The bizarre performance at the seminar was still fresh in everyone's minds, and now, the sect's most enigmatic new celebrity was being challenged by its most orthodox and powerful prodigy. It was the ultimate clash of ideologies: The Dao of Harmony versus the Dao of the Sword. The esoteric versus the practical. The weird versus the strong.
It instantly became the most anticipated event since the finals of the Sect Competition. Bets were being placed, factions were forming, and almost everyone was in agreement on one thing: the Quasi-Saintess was doomed.
Soon after, a frantic gust of wind heralded the arrival of a very agitated Elder Liu Changqing.
"Outrageous! Preposterous!" he fumed, his face red with anger. "That sword-obsessed brute! He is a man who only understands brute force, incapable of comprehending the profound subtlety of your Dao! My disciple, do not worry! I will go to the Sect Master at once! I will have this barbaric duel cancelled!"
He was genuinely ready to fight for his prodigy's honor.
But in the courtyard, Lin Fan, after a brief period of intense, silent calculation, raised a hand to stop him.
"Thank you for your concern, Elder Liu," Lin Fan said, his voice surprisingly calm. "But I believe my Junior Sister... must accept this challenge."
Both Liu Changqing and Yue Qingqian stared at him in shock.
"Senior Brother?!" Yue Qingqian cried out. "But... I can't fight him! I'll be exposed!"
"Accept?" Elder Liu sputtered. "My boy, are you mad? Her Dao is one of peace and harmony! To force her into a crude battle of strength is like asking a master painter to compete in a rock-lifting contest! It's a desecration!"
"Precisely," Lin Fan said, a strange, unreadable glint in his eyes. He was already formulating a new, even more insane script. "And that is exactly what we must show everyone. This is not a battle to be won. It is another... performance."
After finally managing to placate and send away the confused but reluctantly convinced Elder Liu (by explaining that Yue Qingqian needed to "harmonize" with this "dissonant note" in the sect), Lin Fan turned to his terrified Junior Sister.
"The old scripts are useless now," he stated. "A 'graceful loss' won't work. Jian Wuchen is too perceptive; he would see through it instantly. Winning is out of the question; it would expose your true strength and destroy our entire foundation. Forfeiting would be an admission of fraud. So, we are left with only one option."
He looked at her, his expression deadly serious. "We must redefine the very concept of the duel."
"You will not fight him, Junior Sister. You will not block his attacks. You will not even try to win. You will... dance with him."
He began to explain the new plan, a masterpiece of psychological warfare born from absolute desperation.
"You will use the Liu Xu Shenfa (Willow Catkin Body Technique). Not the aggressive, assassin-like version you've practiced, but its purest, most fundamental form. To yield. To flow. To become a leaf in his storm of sword qi."
"He will attack with overwhelming force. You will not meet it. You will move with it. When his sword qi rushes forward, you will be carried by its wake. When his blade slashes, you will drift just outside its edge. You will turn his deadly arena into your personal dance floor. You must make his ultimate sharpness look clumsy, brutish, and utterly incapable of touching your harmony."
The goal was no longer to win or lose the fight, but to win the philosophical argument in the most public way imaginable. She would make his aggressive pursuit of victory look like a childish tantrum.
"He will eventually land a blow, or you will 'tire' and make a 'mistake'," Lin Fan concluded. "You will lose the duel on paper. But everyone watching will see a profound truth: his Dao of absolute power was completely ineffective against your Dao of yielding harmony. He couldn't touch you. You will lose the battle, but you will win the war."
It was an act of supreme arrogance disguised as supreme weakness.
Yue Qingqian's mind reeled. The plan was terrifying. It required a level of control, precision, and mental fortitude far beyond anything she had attempted before. A single misstep wouldn't just mean losing; it would mean being seriously injured, or worse.
Lin Fan could see the fear in her eyes. "This is our only path," he said, his voice softer now. "The rehearsals for this performance will be the hardest thing you have ever done. But if we succeed... no one will ever dare to challenge your 'Dao' with simple violence again."
He looked towards the setting sun, a grim determination settling over him. "The arena is set. The audience awaits. Let the final rehearsal begin."