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Crucial Aid
Author: Mamanda
last update2025-12-11 09:48:10

The young man yawned widely while stretching both of his arms. He had to admit—sleeping on a tree had made his body stiff and sore. All the interconnected muscles throughout his body felt painfully tense. He had been forced to maintain his balance the entire night to avoid falling.

Fang An looked off into the distance, toward the direction where the sounds of fighting had come from. His position atop the tree gave him a slight advantage in visibility, although a few large trees blocked parts of his view.

It wasn’t usually in Fang An’s nature to meddle in others’ business, but for some reason, his heart seemed to urge him to approach the scene of the fight.

He leapt lightly to the ground and quickened his pace, moving confidently across a carpet of fallen leaves and lush green grass.

About thirty meters from the battle, Fang An stopped and leaned against a tree trunk. His sharp gaze focused on the dozens of men clashing with one another, while his tongue played with a blade of grass tu
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    Zhang Wuji and A Long immediately spun around, their eyes widening in surprise. They hadn’t expected Fang An to already be standing so close behind them, his presence so quiet that neither had heard him approach. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the stage, and Fang An stood there in his simple blue robes, his white hair catching the light as he looked at them with a warm, steady gaze.The son of the White Eagle Sect’s leader felt his legs give way beneath him, overcome by a wave of shame and gratitude. He suddenly collapsed to his knees on the hard wooden planks, his head bowed low as he prepared to beg for forgiveness. But before he could touch the floor, Fang An moved with lightning speed, reaching out to swiftly catch his shoulders and gently urge him back to his feet.“Stand up, Zhang Wuji... You don’t need to do that!” Fang An said firmly, his hands steady as he helped the younger man straighten his posture. “I am not a god for you to worship—I’m just a man who believes

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    But Zhang Wuji seemed to have lost all interest in claiming victory in the final match. He stood motionless in the center of the stage, his head bowed low in shame as the weight of everything Fang An had said crashed down on him. The stinging humiliation he had just received echoed through his mind, replaying every word of rebuke and every moment he had mocked the man who was now his future ruler. His hands trembled slightly at his sides, and he could feel the eyes of thousands watching him—including his father’s, which he dared not meet.“Don’t you remember what Fang An said? If you’re willing to change your ways and learn humility, he’ll accept you into the court with open arms,” A Long reminded him, his voice calm and steady rather than triumphant. He had lowered his fighting stance, standing relaxed as he looked at his opponent with genuine concern.Zhang Wuji glanced up at A Long for a moment—his eyes red with unshed tears, his face pale with exhaustion and shame—before lowering

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    Time passed swiftly like flowing water through fingers, and before anyone realized it, the dark of night had given way to the bright light of morning. The sun rose high over the capital, painting the sky in brilliant shades of gold and orange as the city awakened to the long-awaited day of the tournament. Zhang Wuji, along with his four companions—Peng Fei, Li Ming, Sun Zi, and Yong Fei—hurried through the bustling streets to the capital’s central square, their white robes billowing behind them as they pushed past crowds of excited spectators. They arrived just as the registration officials were making final preparations, and Zhang Wuji practically shoved his way to the front of the line, eager to secure his spot and find out if Fang An had dared to enter.Before long, as the sun climbed toward its peak just before noon, the registration desk was officially closed with a loud gong strike that echoed across the square. A large wooden board, tall enough to be seen from every corner of t

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