Between the two, there was a flurry of sword and blade movements, fluid and dynamic, the two weapons swirling into two spheres of cold light that occasionally clashed, neither gaining clear advantage. Han Li watched for a while, yet could not discern any clear pattern or decisive advantage—only that the combat was lively and impressive. He couldn't tell which moves were masterful and which were merely ordinary, nor could he judge which of the two was clearly more skilled. Of course, this is merely the typical journey of a novice disciple's progression. Should a disciple excel in the initial entrance examination, they may bypass the two-year foundational training and directly enter the Seven-Excellence Hall, where they are accepted as inner disciples by several masters and taught the hall's supreme techniques—thus achieving the remarkable leap from a common fish to a dragon, soaring to new heights. During the two years of foundational training, if a disciple continues to demonstrate exceptional performance, they may also attract the attention of senior elders, hall heads, or attendants, who might take them on as personal disciples. While their prospects may not match those of the masters' direct disciples, they still receive far greater recognition and favor than ordinary novices. Upon hearing that Han Li had just emerged from a period of seclusion at a certain location, and having never met him before, Xiao Suan immediately assumed he was a disciple of a senior figure within the sect, and thus respectfully inquired, hoping to establish a connection and approach him. "A few years ago, I was noticed and accepted as a disciple by a senior attendant. However, I am not at liberty to mention his name." Han Li was very clear about his thoughts, yet he pretended to be bashful, deliberately adding a touch of self-assurance to his words. "Indeed, Master Han has been truly fortunate! His standing within the sect will surely grow strong, with a bright future ahead. I hope, when the opportunity arises, Master will kindly take care of me." When Han Li hesitated to reveal the name of his own master, Xiao Suancha didn't mind at all—after all, any of the current deities were certainly stronger than his own. But immediately, his tone shifted. "Master Han, it's clear you're no ordinary person. I have no doubt you'll rise to great prominence in the near future." He continued to praise him warmly. "This person is dark-complexioned, looks rather dull and unrefined—how can any of the deities take him as a disciple? As for me, so sharp and capable, why haven't any of the major figures chosen me?" Xiao Suancha murmured to himself, yet his expression grew even more respectful. Han Li found it amusing that, just moments before, he had been his junior, and now he was being addressed as his senior. Yet, Han Li held no slightest contempt for him. After all, flattery and following the wind were merely human instincts—everyone naturally wished to live better and climb higher. Moreover, one could already tell from his name that he was a meticulous, resourceful man who excelled at navigating social circles. Still, Han Li would surely be deeply disappointed. Though what he had just said was true, the status of this attendant disciple was rather mediocre. In the Seven-Perfected Sect, it would be easy to find a mere disciple who could effortlessly defeat him. He had mistaken his target—thinking of himself as a towering tree, only to find he had picked the wrong one. Han Li silently chuckled to himself, yet remained composed, listening attentively to Xiao Suanshan’s flattery and occasionally engaging him with polite responses. "Master Han is so skilled in martial arts; if he were to step onto the field, he would surely overwhelm the swordsman, leaving him in disarray—indeed, he would surely..." Xiao Suanshan spoke without pause, his words flowing smoothly, while simultaneously carefully observing Han Li’s every gesture. "Hm!" It's strange. The disciple being honored should have deep internal energy and solid martial skills, yet how come I can't discern his true strength? Neither his temples are slightly protruding nor his eyes shining with vitality—this man seems entirely unskilled in martial arts. Xiao Suanpan grew more puzzled with each observation. "The outcome has been decided," came a light, effortless remark from Han Li, cutting through his thoughts. Xiao Suanpan was startled and quickly redirected his gaze back to the field. Indeed, the swordsman had now set his blade aside, one arm steadily oozing blood, the other hand tightly pressing against the wound, his face pale and stern—clearly not satisfied with the result. It was only natural, for both combatants had comparable skill levels; they had merely stumbled upon the opponent's subtle tactics, falling just one step short. Seeing this, Xiao Suanpan expressed deep regret, repeatedly murmuring, "What a pity!" "But what exactly happened? What is there to lament?" "Han Li didn't see any particular strategy unfold, but with someone right beside him offering such a clear explanation, it would be a shame not to ask questions." "This match—if Wang Dabu's team wins, they'll have won three out of the four rounds and the final one will no longer be needed. Unfortunately, they still haven't managed to win!" "Oh!" "Still, it doesn't matter. Now only the final match remains. The person Wang Dabu sends out is the most skilled among our disciples—his powerful 'Burst Thunder Blade Style' is so vigorous that it can shatter stones and cut through metal. Ha! To witness Li Shifu's signature blade technique, I must say I haven't come all this way in vain. No matter who Zhang Changgui sends out, we're certain to win." Initially a bit disheartened, the young disciple soon became enthusiastic, clearly full of confidence in Li Shifu. "Has the final match already arrived?" Han Li casually replied, while thinking to himself—who exactly is this Han Shifu? He couldn't recall ever having met him before. At that moment, a young man with a cold and composed demeanor stepped forward from Wang Dapang's side. Holding a long sword that shimmered with a cold, brilliant light, he walked steadily to the center of the arena, then closed his eyes without a word. "Li Sheng! Li Sheng! Li Sheng!..." As the young man appeared, the crowd outside erupted into excitement, all calling out his name simultaneously—rising in volume with each call, one after another, growing louder and more passionate. The roar filled the entire arena, blurring the distinction between the wealthy and the less affluent disciples, all united in their enthusiastic support for this young man.