---
The sect's Grand Arena thrums with tension. Carved into a cliffside with hovering spirit platforms, the second round of the tournament pits Inner Disciples against one another. The crowd murmurs as Jiang Chen steps onto the platform, cloak fluttering behind him, sword sheathed in the Silent Sheath.
Announcer:
"Jiang Chen of the Outer Courtyard… vs. Luo Ming of the Thunder Vein Hall!"
Luo Ming, a robust inner disciple with the Thunder Vein physique, smirks as he steps forward, lightning coiling around his forearms.
Luo Ming (grinning):
"Lightning splits silence. Let's see how your whisper holds up."
Jiang Chen simply bows, eyes calm.
Jiang Chen:
"Lightning moves. Wind listens. Let's see which travels faster."
The moment the match begins, Luo Ming charges. His fists crackle with thunderous force, the air shimmering with electric pressure.
Jiang Chen doesn't move.
Luo Ming closes the gap.
Then—"Before the Thunder Falls."
A single step forward, sword half-drawn, energy suspended in the air.
> A flicker of silver. A delayed slash. And the crowd sees Luo Ming's robe tear open across the chest.
He staggers back, blood trickling down a shallow but precise wound. The technique hits after the movement ends—unreadable. Undodgeable.
Luo Ming (shaken):
"W-What was… that?"
Jiang Chen (lowering sword):
"The whisper before lightning."
The judge raises a hand. Match over.
Announcer:
"Winner: Jiang Chen!"
In the viewing stands, several inner disciples exchange glances. Lin Shaoyu smiles thinly.
Lin Shaoyu (to his junior):
"Now the elders have no choice. He's drawing too much attention."
Junior:
"Should we delay the plan?"
Lin Shaoyu (cold):
"No. Accelerate it. Send word to the Vermilion envoy. Let them test his silence… with blood.
Later that night, Jiang Chen walks back alone through the winding Jade Lantern Path, a mountain trail flanked by dim, floating spirit lamps. He senses the first flicker of killing intent even before the wind shifts.
Then—darkness.
The lamps blink out one by one.
From the shadows, masked figures emerge. Not disciples. Killers.
Their robes ripple with blood-inked script—Vermilion Shadow, Black Lotus Cell. Three of them, silent and coordinated.
Jiang Chen (drawing slowly):
"So you've come again."
One lunges. He dodges.
Another attacks from the rear—his Soundless Flow allows him to glide sideways, sword barely unsheathing.
A gash opens across the assassin's shoulder.
> Technique: "Petals Across the Void."
He dances between blades, each movement a breeze, each counter a ghost cut.
But these are not ordinary enemies.
One throws a Void Needle—a spiritual disruption weapon. It scrapes his arm, disrupting his qi for half a heartbeat.
Jiang Chen (wincing):
Smart.
They close in. He's losing ground. Too many. Too coordinated.
Then suddenly—a fourth presence joins.
---
A flash of white.
All three assassins halt mid-motion—slashed open across the waist in perfect synchronization.
Yue Qingshuang stands behind them, sword drawn, eyes unreadable.
Yue Qingshuang:
"Took you long enough to draw them out."
Jiang Chen (catching breath):
"You were… following me?"
Yue Qingshuang:
"No. I just knew you'd be stupid enough to walk alone."
She sheathes her blade and eyes the bodies. One is still twitching.
Yue Qingshuang:
"This one's alive. Let's ask him something before he regrets it."
---
In a quiet chamber beneath the Inner Sanctum, Jiang Chen and Yue Qingshuang stand before the restrained assassin. A spirit-suppressing talisman seals his cultivation.
Jiang Chen (calm):
"Who sent you?"
The assassin spits blood and grins.
Assassin:
"I was born in the Red Lotus Abyss. My tongue is not my own."
He mutters a phrase—and his body bursts into crimson flame. A self-immolation curse.
Yue curses and pulls Jiang Chen back as the flame engulfs the room.
Only a whisper remains.
Yue Qingshuang:
"Lin Shaoyu won't keep his hands clean for long."
---
The next morning. Jiang Chen trains alone in the Soundless Grove, replaying the previous night over and over. He adjusts his breathing, trying to recreate the moment he deflected three assassins in motion.
He senses something stir within his meridians again.
> Second Resonance Unlocked – "Whispering Veins: Branch Pulse"
A secondary flow forms, allowing two techniques to operate in tandem.
He tests it—drawing "Petals Across the Void" into "Before the Thunder Falls". A fusion of ghost motion and delayed impact.
The sword arcs—and five falling leaves slice in half.
He smiles faintly.
Jiang Chen (to himself):
"So this is what it means to walk a path no one can see."
---
That afternoon, Instructor Mei visits him, wine gourd in hand, and throws him a sealed scroll.
Instructor Mei (dry):
"Congratulations. You've made the inner sect elders extremely uncomfortable. That's usually a good sign."
Jiang Chen (opening scroll):
"…The next match-up is me against Chen Jiannan?"
Instructor Mei drinks and nods.
Instructor Mei:
"Former core disciple. Dual saber style. He's a lion wrapped in humility. Watch the left arm—it feints weakness but holds most of the weight."
She sets the wine gourd down, more serious now.
Instructor Mei:
"More importantly… Black Lotus agents infiltrated the sect once, a decade ago. They nearly destroyed the Whispering Line back then. If they're back, someone from the inside is feeding them your trail."
Jiang Chen's eyes narrow.
Jiang Chen:
"Then the blade must speak first."
---
In a quiet moonlit room, Lin Shaoyu moves jade chess pieces on a board resembling the sect's topography.
Each piece is labeled with names: Elders, Disciples, Paths.
He places one piece—"Jiang Chen"—at the center.
Lin Shaoyu (softly):
"Your sword speaks like a poem. But I've never liked poetry."
Behind him, a shadow kneels.
Shadow Agent:
"The plan proceeds. The Heavenfall Array will activate during the third round."
Lin Shaoyu:
"Good. Let him rise. The higher he climbs, the clearer the fall."
---
That night, Jiang Chen sits by a quiet pond near the Ancestor Hall. He holds a fragment of the Silent Sheath, running his fingers along the old engravings.
He remembers something.
> A boy hiding under a table. Screams. Swordlight. A voice telling him: "When your silence can cut through noise—draw."
A memory not fully his—but it anchors his resolve.
Jiang Chen (quietly):
"I'll cut not with hatred… but with remembrance."
The wind stirs. The water stills.
And far above, a single blossom from the highest peak floats down, landing silently on the surface.
---
End of Chapter 9