When Golden Finger Meets Salted Fish

In the canyon, layers of mist swirled as a rainbow hung high above.

Different from its usual serene beauty, a wisp of blue smoke rose from beneath the waterfall, giving the place a touch of earthly warmth. Anyone passing by might catch the faint aroma of meat lingering in the air.

By the pond, a pile of recently burned firewood still retained some warmth, with a human and a tiger sitting around the embers. The previously lively White Dragon Fish was nowhere to be seen, replaced by scattered scales and fish bones on the ground. The little white tiger, with a look of complete satisfaction, let out a contented burp and rubbed her slightly bulging belly, her last traces of unhappiness completely vanished.

Yun Qingyue hadn't been idle—she had been the one grilling the fish and was now cleaning up the aftermath. With a wave of her hand, she blasted a hole several meters deep in the solid earth, then threw the fish scales and bones into it before refilling and burying them. Finally, she formed a hand seal to disperse the residual spiritual energy from her spell, thoroughly destroying all evidence.

The little white tiger lay on the huge rock, her chin resting on her crossed paws, watching Yun Qingyue's every move. Eventually, curiosity got the better of her, and she asked: "It's just a fish. Why is Senior Sister being so cautious?"

Yun Qingyue didn't answer, unusually dismissive.

In truth, the White Dragon Fish wasn't originally native to Xuanqing Sect but came from the Eastern Sea. Thousands of years ago, a Xuanqing Sect ancestor had been traveling near the Eastern Sea and happened to obtain two such fish. Finding them beautiful, he brought them back to the sect to raise. The White Dragon Fish thus took root in Xuanqing Sect, multiplying over thousands of years until the original pair became a whole pond of fish.

In some unknown year, the spiritual pond housing the White Dragon Fish developed a crack, allowing the fish to escape and establish themselves in various waters throughout Xuanqing Sect. Now, White Dragon Fish weren't rare in Xuanqing Sect, but they weren't commonly found in just any pool either.

One could say the little white tiger had been quite lucky to catch such a rare species with a casual swipe of her paw. Unlike Yun Qingyue, who had visited this waterfall pond over a hundred times but had only encountered these fish twice...

After cleaning up, the little white tiger had grown drowsy in the afternoon sun, her eyes half-closed as if asleep.

With her excellent hearing, Yun Qingyue could even faintly make out the sound of snoring. Amused, she decided not to disturb the tiger and instead walked to the edge of the pond to draw the Fuxue Sword and clean it. The crystal-clear pond water washed over the ice-and-snow-like blade, scouring away the fierce energy accumulated from days of intense battles, while the pure cold energy dispersed the intensity of the afternoon sun.

After about half an hour, Yun Qingyue finally retrieved the Fuxue Sword from the water. Her pale hand stroked the cold blade, and the water droplets instantly vanished. She casually executed a sword flourish before sheathing the Fuxue Sword again.

The afternoon canyon was tranquil, and in such an environment, Yun Qingyue no longer hurried to cultivate. She sat with her knees drawn up beside the little white tiger, looking up at the drifting clouds in the sky, lost in thought. Only when time passed and the sun gradually shifted westward, did a furry tiger tail silently wrap around her ankle, pulling her back from her reverie.

"Let's go back," she said, withdrawing her distant gaze.

The little white tiger opened her eyes, her golden tiger eyes looking at Yun Qingyue, all traces of her earlier tantrum gone. She jumped into Yun Qingyue's arms on her own initiative and said: "It's still early. We can go back to Little Spirit Peak and watch—the competition shouldn't be over yet."

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Yun Qingyue had carried the little white tiger away for nearly half a day, and Zhong Heng had assumed they'd gone back. While watching the competition, he was startled when someone suddenly appeared beside him, and turning his head, he was surprised: "Senior Sister, didn't you go back?"

"We didn't go back," Yun Qingyue replied simply, economical with her words.

After nearly half a day, You Yi was no longer competing on the platform, perhaps several rounds had passed since then. However, the two people currently competing still attracted attention—two figures stood facing each other on the platform, one in white robes, the other in a monk's robe. The one in white was Mount Qingyun's Senior Brother Wen Jin, who waved his hand to deploy a formation disk, instantly filling the platform with thick fog. The one in the monk's robe was a young monk with ruddy lips, white teeth, and a face as fair as a beautiful woman. He pressed his palms together, and a faint golden light immediately surrounded his body as he calmly stepped into the thick fog.

Seeing this scene, Zhong Heng couldn't help but suck in a breath through his teeth: "Although Senior Brother Wen hasn't reached Nascent Soul yet, I've heard he prepared extensively for this competition, with many techniques he didn't even use in the previous sect competition. This formation clearly isn't easy to deal with—it probably has multiple layers with who knows how many traps, yet the young monk just walked right in..."

As he spoke, Zhong Heng shook his head, his face showing he couldn't bear to watch, as if certain the young monk would meet a bad end.

However, Yun Qingyue didn't think so, because the young monk was none other than the Buddha Sect's hidden disciple. She didn't believe that the renowned Buddha's Disciple would be so easy to defeat, but she also didn't underestimate her fellow disciples, so she watched even more attentively.

Influenced by her, the little white tiger also stared intently at the platform, but one minute passed, two minutes passed, three minutes passed... after a cup of tea's time, the little white tiger finally lost patience. Because on the platform, there was only Wen Jin standing there, occasionally forming hand seals that were incomprehensible, doing who knows what. The young monk who had entered the dense fog still hadn't emerged, and there was certainly no exciting combat to see.

As such, focusing intently for a while was fine, but watching for too long became truly boring. Especially since the little white tiger wasn't particularly patient, she finally shifted her gaze from the dense fog and began looking around the platform.

Unexpectedly, the little white tiger's gaze swept over the names of the two competitors on the platform, and she suddenly realized she didn't know the young monk's name. She fixed her gaze to look carefully and saw that opposite Wen Jin's name were the characters "Tan Zhi"... so the young monk was called Tan Zhi. Not an unpleasant name, just a bit strange.

Just as she thought this, she vaguely glimpsed another figure appearing on the platform. Looking up, wasn't it Tan Zhi emerging from the dense fog? What was more unexpected was that his clothes were neat and he remained as composed as ever, as if he had merely taken a stroll through the fog without encountering any danger.

But how was that possible?!

When Wen Jin on the platform saw him, his expression changed several times, his eyes seemingly filled with disbelief.

Tan Zhi, however, maintained a perfectly normal expression. Facing Wen Jin's difficult countenance, his face remained unchanged, his attitude even exceptionally calm. It was as if he wasn't on a competition platform at all, but below the platform reuniting with an old friend—gentle and composed.

Finally, Wen Jin made a move. He took a deep breath, but instead of attacking, he cupped his hands and conceded: "Senior Brother Tan Zhi's cultivation is profound, I am not yet his equal. I concede defeat here."

With these words, there was an immediate uproar below the platform, as the spectators clearly hadn't expected such an outcome.

The crowd's shock and clamor were understandable, because this match had been extraordinarily calm. There had been no flashing swords, no flying spells—just one person throwing out a formation disk, and another person taking a stroll through the dense fog. Except for some formation masters, the vast majority of people didn't understand what had happened, much less why Wen Jin had suddenly conceded!

In fact, Wen Jin's concession wasn't unwarranted at all. Even though he felt reluctant, he had to admit he had no way to deal with Tan Zhi. Because just now, Tan Zhi had walked into his overlapping formations, but only the maze formation had any effect—the illusion formation hadn't confused him, the binding formation hadn't trapped him, and the killing formation had never even been triggered.

Outsiders couldn't know, but Wen Jin, controlling the formations, understood that Tan Zhi had truly just taken a walk through his formations. At most, his targeted adjustments had some slight effect, making Tan Zhi's path longer and taking more time—but otherwise, he remained completely unharmed.

What did this mean? It meant the young monk had seen through his formations, or perhaps he simply wasn't affected by formations at all!

Wen Jin couldn't believe it, but ultimately had to admit that as a formation master, without the aid of his formations, his chances of winning were practically nonexistent. Moreover, he had to admire the young monk's understated skill, so he decided to save face and not drag things out. After conceding, he promptly jumped off the platform.

Seeing this, Tan Zhi remained unmoved by either praise or humiliation. He pressed his palms together, uttered a Buddhist saying, and calmly walked down from the platform. Only when facing his fellow disciples' congratulations did he finally crack a smile, revealing a shallow dimple.

After a long silence, the little white tiger looked up at Yun Qingyue and Zhong Heng and asked: "What just happened? Did you understand it?"

Zhong Heng wore a profound expression and nodded: "I saw it. This young monk has considerable attainment in formations."

Hearing this, the little white tiger thought he had stated the obvious, but on further reflection, his summary seemed quite accurate. She blinked, feeling that watching this platform match had been a waste, as nothing of Tan Zhi's abilities had been revealed—mastery of formations didn't count, as neither she nor Senior Sister were formation masters. Since they wouldn't be facing off using formations in the future, knowing this was useless.

Yun Qingyue seemed to guess her thoughts and stroked the little white tiger's head, saying: "It's not entirely useless. At least we know Tan Zhi is proficient in formations, so in future battles, I shouldn't rely on secretly deploying sword formations as a backup plan."

That's right—when dueling with You Yi, Senior Sister had used a sword formation to blast him once.

The little white tiger nodded, satisfied, and nestled in Senior Sister's arms to watch the next platform match. Occasionally when her mouth felt idle, she would eat an Ice Lotus Seed or a Milk-Fragrant Fruit, thoroughly enjoying watching the competition.

As for Zhong Heng beside them, he had been seriously watching the competition with a rigorous attitude, but seeing the little white tiger eating and drinking beside him made him, who had long abstained from food, feel tempted. So he glanced at his Senior Sister, then quietly poked the little white tiger. When she looked over, he straightforwardly held out his hand—there was nothing to be embarrassed about, he had treated Jianbing to candied haws before, hadn't he?

The little white tiger clearly remembered this too. She looked at Zhong Heng and silently gave him a handful of Ice Lotus Seeds. Thus, there were now two people eating snacks while watching the competition. Only after putting the Ice Lotus Seeds in his mouth did Zhong Heng realize that these snacks were actually third-grade spiritual plants.