"Pfft!" The surging qi surged forth from Xiao Yan's palm, and Lan Yanran emitted a muffled gasp filled with pain, followed by a stream of bright crimson blood sliding down her lips, contrasting beautifully against her rosy ones—elegant, poignant, and graceful. Her beautiful eyes, shimmering with complex emotions, remained fixed on the still-cold young face before her. Slowly, she closed her eyes, lowered her arms, and her body, like withered petals, drifted gently, weightless, toward the ground. The entire arena fell silent. All eyes were fixed on the graceful figure descending through the air. The Yunlan Sect disciples' faces were filled with disbelief. Lan Yanran—the most outstanding young talent of Yunlan Sect—had first achieved a Qi Spiral at age thirteen, becoming a Battle-User; reached Battle-User status at sixteen; and ascended to Grand Battle-User level at twenty! A cultivator at the level of Grand Master at twenty—this pace of cultivation, while not quite among the very best in Yunlan Sect over the years, certainly ranks in the top ten. Yet, such an outstanding individual, one whose excellence commands genuine respect from ordinary people, has been defeated by the very person once considered a useless relic from the Xiao family. For Yunlan Sect disciples who have long regarded Lan Yanran as their personal goddess, this outcome brings a deep sense of disappointment. However, when reflecting upon Lan Yanran's cultivation journey, some individuals begin to involuntarily associate her progress with Xiao Yan. Once those with a slightly sharper mind overcome their initial reservations, carefully assess Xiao Yan's age and cultivation pace, and then—astonishment spreads rapidly through their hearts. Three years ago, Xiao Yan was not even a Competitor. Yet by the time three years had passed, his strength had caught up with Na Lan Yanran and reached the level of Grand Competitor. In just three years, he had leaped across the thresholds from Competitor to Competitor, firmly establishing himself among the Grand Competitors. If Na Lan Yanran's progress was impressive and worthy of admiration, then Xiao Yan—perhaps, even more so—was beginning to inspire fear. Beyond his mature, refined appearance, which had seemed to have smoothed out his youthful edges, some insiders could not help but feel a subtle tremor in their hearts. Only now did they recall that three years ago, Xiao Yan was merely fourteen. Three years later, he had grown to seventeen. The maturity and composure Xiao Yan consistently displayed had masked the widespread speculation about his true age. At that age, most people had only just reached the Competitor level. Yet this once-ordinary, overlooked Xiao Yan had already begun to truly enter the ranks of the strong. A Grand Combatant at seventeen! The founder of Yunlan Sect, that prodigy who had nearly stunned the entire continent, had also just reached the Grand Combatant rank at precisely that age! Reflecting on these details, several people quietly swallowed their breath, exchanged glances, and their faces instantly flushed with astonishment and perspiration. Of course, Xiao Yan's rapid progress was closely tied to Ye Lao's assistance. Yet, had Ye Lao not secretly drawn upon Xiao Yan's combat energy back then, and had not that golden period been wasted, who could have predicted that Xiao Yan might have attained the Grand Combatant rank even earlier? Nevertheless, without those three years of self-refinement and inner cultivation, who could be certain that Xiao Yan would have developed the present-day composure—so impressive that even many elders now regard him with renewed admiration? The saying holds true: a horse lost today may turn out to be a blessing tomorrow. "Oh...," atop the great tree, Lan Jie's face had grown noticeably pale, his straight posture slightly bowed. He exhaled a long, deep breath, the bitterness in the sigh thick and hard to dissolve. What had once been a smooth affair had now turned into a disaster—he not only lost a brilliant, admirable son-in-law, someone anyone would envy, but also suffered a severe loss of face. Truly, he had lost both his wife and his troops. Hearing Lan Jie's sigh, the others nearby, including Mu Chen, exchanged weary, sympathetic glances and shook their heads. Xiao Yan's performance had far exceeded their expectations. This seemingly solitary practitioner, who had always focused on his own cultivation, had managed to defeat Lan Yanran, a prodigy carefully nurtured by Yunlan Sect. Over the past three years, Xiao Yan's growth had been so remarkable that even Mu Chen and the others were left utterly astonished. "Such a remarkable youngster..." Fama sighed softly. Though during the earlier battle, Xiao Yan had gained an advantage thanks to his flight technique, his sharp combat awareness was evident to anyone with a keen eye—clearly the result of genuine, grueling experience, far surpassing the more refined, cautious cultivation approach of Na Lan Yan Ran. "Indeed, quite remarkable. Given time, this young man will surely achieve great things!" Jia Xingtian nodded, offering a quiet assessment—one of the first such evaluations he had ever given to someone so young. Lowering his gaze, he glanced past the group of Yunlan Sect elders standing on the stone platform, especially at Yun Ling, whose face had turned slightly pale with irritation. As his eyes settled on Yun Ling, the furrows on Hai Bo Dong's brows deepened. With a gentle flick of his fingers inside his sleeve, a subtle chill began to swirl around his palms, ready to respond to any sudden developments. "Damn youngster!" With a forceful palm strike against the stone beside him, Hai Bo Dong expressed his frustration—Yun Ling had expected some recognition for his earlier warning, but it had gone completely unheeded. "Grand Elder, what should we do now? Yanran... has lost." One of the Yunlan Sect elders asked, with a weary smile. Yun Ling's expression shifted constantly. Yanran was not just a mere contender—she represented the entire Yunlan Sect. Her defeat would undoubtedly harm the Sect's prestige. With the Sect Master absent, as Grand Elder, he had no choice but to devise every possible means to mitigate this loss. "Yet with so many power leaders present, how could I possibly salvage the situation without a suitable pretext? If we had to force the matter, wouldn't that make our Cloud岚 Sect appear nothing short of thieves?" Yun Ling's thoughts raced continuously. Frustrated by the need to find a solution, his gaze suddenly settled on Ge Ye below, whose face was pale as paper. At that moment, Ge Ye was staring at Xiao Yan hovering in the air as though he had seen a ghost. The sheer terror in his expression only intensified Yun Ling's irritation, prompting him to snap, "Ge Ye, attend to your composure! You're a senior official of the Sect!" Upon hearing Yun Ling's sharp command, Ge Ye trembled violently and finally regained his senses, swiftly turning his head to face the air. His mouth quivered, his fingers trembling as he pointed weakly at Xiao Yan, his voice barely audible yet laced with uncontainable fear. "The Elder, he—he is the very mysterious figure who killed Mo Cheng!" The moment Ge Ye uttered these words, the room was stunned into silence. All the Cloud Rhythm Sect elders on the stone platform were instantly stunned! A white shadow—merely a sheet of pristine paper folded with remarkable neatness. Perhaps due to countless folds, small flaps and tiny holes had appeared at the edges. This paper was familiar to Xiao Yan—he had seen it before. Back then, in the grand hall of the Xiao family, the young man had drawn it from the table and written a letter that left everyone stunned—a divorce letter! Gently unfurling the paper, the slightly稚嫩 handwriting came to life on the surface. As his eyes scanned down, the bloodstained handprint under the sunlight stood out vividly. After gazing at this divorce letter for a while, Xiao Yan gently shook his head, glanced at Lan Yanran, who was about to fall, and with a sweep of his sleeve, a surge of energy rose spontaneously, lifting her and carrying her softly to the smooth stone floor. "Ah…" Coughing violently, clutching her chest, blood trickling from her lips, Lan Yanran steadied herself with one hand, her gaze firm and resolute, fixed on Xiao Yan standing a few paces away, holding a sheet of white paper. Her expression shifted several times before, after a long pause, it seemed she had made a quiet decision. In the presence of all watching, she rose with some difficulty, her voice soft and slightly hoarse, laced with an unmistakable bitterness: "Xiao Yan, you've won... As per our original agreement, if I had lost in the final contest, I, Lan Yanran, should have become your servant or maid." "However, for the sake of the Sect's reputation, I must regret that I cannot fulfill my promise as agreed. After all, the image of being unreasonable in your eyes has already taken root deeply. Then, perhaps, I shall simply allow myself one more moment of任性." "Now that I reflect upon it, my approach during the incident involving the Xiao family was indeed inappropriate. Therefore, I kindly ask you to convey my apologies to Uncle Xiao in the future." As she finished speaking, Nalan Yan suddenly raised her jade hand, slightly swaying it. Instantly, a strong suction pulled a long sword resting beside a young disciple of Yunlan Sect, drawing it across. With swift motion, she grasped the sword firmly, bit her silver teeth, and with a graceful gesture, drove the sharp tip of the sword straight down, aiming for the long, snow-white neck. "Ah!" Nalan Yanran's sudden move immediately caused shock among all the Yunlan Sect disciples, including the elders, who had never expected her to take her own life after losing the match. Yet Nalan seemed entirely serious, her long sword dancing with no hesitation, directly slicing toward her own neck. Though several elders tried to intervene, their distance prevented them from acting effectively, and they could only watch helplessly as the sharp blade drew closer and closer to Nalan's neck. "Ding!" The sword carried a cold, cutting aura, slicing through the air. Just as it was about to touch Nalan's pale skin, two slender fingers suddenly appeared in mid-air and swiftly closed over the blade. With a clear, crisp sound, the sword halted abruptly. The sharp edge of the blade left a shallow wound on the delicate neck, from which blood slowly seeped out, staining the white skin with vivid red streaks. The long sword was blocked, and Lan Yanran suddenly lifted her head, catching sight of those calm, dark eyes. "I have little interest in making you my servant or my maid, so you needn't go to such lengths to preserve Yunlan Sect's reputation," Xiang Yan said, glancing at Lan Yanran's firmly pressed lips. Yet in his heart, he felt a growing sense of helplessness. Though he had won the battle, it didn't mean he could truly make Lan Yanran serve as a servant or maid. After all, Lan Yanran was the deputy sect master of Yunlan Sect, and the senior monks and nuns of the sect would absolutely never allow such a blow to their prestige. Moreover, if Lan Yanran truly died here, Yunlan Sect would immediately erupt in fury, turning their relationship into outright hostility—a development Xiang Yan certainly did not wish to see. "The three-year agreement has now come to an end. From this point forward, there will be no further entanglements between us. Today's failure on your part shall be considered merely the price paid for the initial misstep in your approach..." Xiao Yan spoke calmly, his fingers gripping the long sword. With a sudden pull, he tossed it effortlessly—sending the blade streaking through the air—and then drove it hard into the chest of the former Yunlan Sect disciple, the hilt continuously swinging. "You yourself know how little weight such a formal, paper-bound agreement carries." He gently shook the divorce document in his hand, then lightly tapped it with his fingertips, causing a jade-green flame to rise from his fingers. The document was swiftly consumed, turning into a pile of dark ashes that drifted in the breeze. "As I said three years ago, I repeat it now." Xiao Yan smiled softly, his gentle voice echoing steadily across the quiet plaza. "Nalan Yanran, from this day forward, you shall have no further connection with my Xiao family. You are free. Congratulations." Gazing at the smiling, refined young man, Nalan Yanran felt a complex mix of emotions on her face. The things she had long pursued had finally come to pass, yet for some reason, a vast emptiness remained within her. "Ladies and gentlemen," said Xiao Yan, smiling up at the group gathered high in the trees, "the show has ended. Now, let us all return to our homes." He then turned, walked a few steps, drew out the massive, dark bronze measuring rod from the ground, and casually pinned it to his back. Under the watchful eyes of countless onlookers, he slowly made his way toward the square's outer edge. Sunlight poured down from the horizon, and though his figure still seemed solitary, it now carried a sense of ease—clearly lighter than when he had arrived. As his feet stepped onto the square's surface, just as he was about to descend the steps, the faint, lingering voice that had weighed heavily on Xiao Yan's heart finally rose again.