Ms. Diviner: The Prodigal Daughter's Return-Chapter 1188: Have You No Shame?

Even though they knew it was just a contest, under the invisible might of the Divine Sword, everyone felt like they were facing a formidable enemy, as if confronting Han Yan was equivalent to confronting themselves.

"So, your sword is actually a Divine Artifact!" Nan Aotian was slightly surprised and drew his longsword at an extremely slow pace. Just a flash of half an inch of sword light was enough to elicit the sound of a dragon’s roar, radiating waves of domineering grandeur.

The sword in his hand, even if not a Divine Artifact, was definitely not far off. Previously, he had not only concealed his strength but also his sword, so only now did everyone see that the sword he used today was completely different from the one he used last night.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment. Everyone’s hearts involuntarily quickened, as though about to leap out of their chests.

"It seems Han Yan has met his match this time. I wonder if I’ll get a chance to spar with him." Jiang Qiling looked at the scene, either in schadenfreude or regret, and said.

"I originally wanted to fight another round and step on Han Yan to clear my name. But now, it seems, there might be no such chance." Yue Fanchen shook his head and sighed.

Although the sky was clear, everyone felt an oppressive heaviness, as if dark clouds loomed, suffocating them.

"Actually, I know your most fatal weakness," Han Yan said with a slight smile.

"What?" Nan Aotian was taken aback.

Han Yan’s gaze seemed to be locked on a certain spot on his body, sharp as a blade.

No, impossible, how could he know? Nan Aotian felt a nameless panic rising in his heart.

"Nine Heavens, Star Fall!" At last, Han Yan slashed out with her sword. Her gaze remained firmly fixed on a certain spot on Nan Aotian’s body.

Her face bore a smile, still as confident as ever.

"Wait!" At this moment, Nan Aotian suddenly spoke.

Han Yan had only just executed half of her move when she forcibly stopped her Sword Force at the sound of his shout, and looked at Nan Aotian with a smile.

"How about we change the way we compete?" Nan Aotian suggested.

"How do we compete?" Han Yan asked.

"Both of us are sons of noble families. Fighting and killing are a bit beneath us. Why don’t we have a literary duel instead, sit and discuss the Dao over wine, wouldn’t that be a great tale?" Nan Aotian sheathed his sword with a clang, flicked his robe sleeves, and spoke to Han Yan exuding the noble aura of a noble family’s son.

"Puff!" Jiang Qiling and Yue Fanchen simultaneously spat out the tea they were leisurely sipping while preparing to watch a grand show.

Below the stage, everyone was equally stunned. No one doubted that Han Yan and Nan Aotian, matched opponents, would surely engage in an unprecedented battle, which would become a classic memory for them.

Who’d have thought, Nan Aotian actually sheathed his sword and proposed a literary duel? If he were given a folding fan and shaved off his beard, he might indeed look like a dashing young noble.

But look at your bulging muscles, and your stubbly beard, and you dare propose a literary duel? Does that suit your fierce appearance?

"Not interested," Han Yan refused without hesitation.

"Must we fight?" Nan Aotian tilted his head and looked at Han Yan.

"Nonsense," Han Yan resolutely said.

"Could we discuss one thing?" Nan Aotian put forward.

"Discuss what?" Han Yan asked with a grin.

"You can fight, but don’t hit my face, and especially don’t touch my beard," Nan Aotian stated.

His words once again caused jaws to drop all around the stage. A literary duel is fine by them; they were curious what kind of literary duel the stubbly guy envisioned. Seeing Han Yan’s firm opposition and Nan Aotian’s suggestion of negotiation, their curiosity piqued about what grand matter he contemplated.

Who knew, he made such a request.

Beard, is a beard so important? More important than the decisive duel of top freshmen?

"Is a beard very important?" Han Yan asked suppressing a laugh.

"Very important. It took me years to grow it like this. If you insist on fighting, that’s fine, but you mustn’t touch my beard," Nan Aotian said, almost obsessively.

"Then I’d better just admit defeat," Han Yan said irritably. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

"That would be best," Nan Aotian said joyously upon hearing this.

"Shameless! Too shameless!" Not only did the crowd below curse, but Han Yan almost joined in too.

"Hey, are you still competing or not?" Even the instructor couldn’t stand it anymore.

"Forget it, let’s not compete. I’ll admit defeat," Nan Aotian said straightforwardly.

"What, admit defeat?!" The instructor was dumbfounded.

The freshmen sword contest at Long Yan Academy was not only about earning fame and standing out but also involved substantial rewards. Furthermore, the courage and resilience shown in a duel represented their dignity as Sword Cultivators and that of their families and mentors. Hence, throughout history, rarely did anyone directly admit defeat.

After rambling a bit, Nan Aotian not only rejected a literary duel but directly conceded, certainly taking everyone by surprise.

"What else can I do if I don’t admit defeat? My domineering sword can’t suppress her Sword Power—engaging in a fight would be a terrifying battle.

The outcome aside, what if I accidentally get my beard hurt by her? Tell me, is it worth it, worth it?" Nan Aotian looked at the instructor, speaking confidently.

Beard, always the beard! The instructor was almost going mad, couldn’t help but repeat Han Yan’s question and roared, "Is the beard really that important to you?!"

"How could it not be important? You guys won’t understand the misery of being mistaken as a girl since childhood, later a pretty boy, or a rabbit. You wouldn’t know how important a beard is to me. Forget it, no point saying more, you wouldn’t understand—I concede," Nan Aotian said sorrowfully, then decisively admitted defeat.

Afterward, he waved his sleeve, departing without leaving a trace, except for the dropped jaws and dislodged eyes.

Beard, still the beard! Nan Aotian’s words seemed to echo in everyone’s ears, leaving them in disarray.

"Sir, this counts as my win, right?" Han Yan awoke the instructor from his stupor and said.

"Han Yan, wins!" the instructor announced with a wry smile.

No cheers, no applause, everyone stared blankly at the tall, departing figure of Nan Aotian.

"Hahaha, I won! I won! Hurry, pay up!" Finally, someone cheered excitedly, but clearly not due to the tension, danger, or ups and downs of this duel.

"Nan Aotian, you bastard, this is the freshmen sword contest, yet you just conceded like that," someone couldn’t hold back and cursed alongside Ling Baobao’s cheers.

"Your beard, it’s all you care about—throw a couple of moves and you’d die?" Another cursed in a tearful tone.

Apparently, these were the unlucky folks who accidentally had a stack of Silver Tael snatched away by Ling Baobao.

(Dear readers, it’s the last day of the month, and Han Yan’s identity as a female is revealed, hahaha, I don’t have to eat my keyboard. Asking for monthly tickets~~ Awoo)