As long as they could wait patiently, a result would surely come. Yet, as Wei Zhao had said, dragging this out would leave both of them with lasting damage from the cold. Compared with the win or loss of this duel, the two of them themselves were obviously more important.

That being the case, how to score the outcome became a major problem. After all, in the history of the trial tournament there had never been a precedent of a draw—and now this match bore directly on the qualifications for the Primeval Trial; whoever lost was eliminated outright. Even Xin Yi'an could not lightly pass judgment.

"Need you even ask? We wait for them to stand up on their own, of course," Xue Jianming sneered. What became of Duanmu Yu was of no concern to him, but if this chance could be used to ruin Leng Leng for good, so much the better.

"That cannot be allowed. Both Leng Leng and Duanmu Yu are prodigies of surpassing talent. If anything were truly to happen to either of them, the Ye Ling Sect would never agree—and I doubt the higher-ups of your own Xue Jian Sect would agree either." Xin Yi'an rebuked at once, his voice grave. "I am the overseer of this trial tournament and hold the authority to rule on the spot. Standing by and letting them freeze themselves into cripples—that is a stupid thing old man that I could never bring myself to do."

Xue Jianming was left speechless for a moment. Xin Yi'an held the absolute right to speak; on that point he could not compare. So he stepped back, tone dripping with sarcasm: "Then what do you propose? Surely you aren't going to favor Leng Leng? She may be one of ours in the Xue Jian Sect, but let us call a spade a spade—just now she was plainly at a complete disadvantage, and in the name of fairness I say Duanmu Yu should be adjudged the winner."

Xin Yi'an choked at that. In his heart he of course leaned toward Leng Leng, but the situation just now had indeed been as Xue Jianming described. If he forcibly declared Leng Leng the winner, not only would Duanmu Yu refuse to accept it, but everyone else would likely say he had let his own bias tilt the scales.

"That is not necessarily so. Have you forgotten who unleashed Frozen Prison Mirror Shatter? Without the might of Frozen Prison Mirror Shatter, would the present deadlock ever have come about? By any measure, this should count as Leng Leng striking only after the enemy had spent herself." Wei Zhao stepped forward at once to argue his case on principle. Where Leng Leng's qualification for the Primeval Trial was at stake, he could not simply stand by.

"Striking after the enemy has spent herself? And freezing herself into that state in the process—are you trying to make me die laughing?" Xue Jianming snorted in contempt.

"If it really is so funny, why haven't you died laughing yet?" Ying Ziyu stuck out her tongue.

"You!" Xue Jianming's eyes turned cold, and instinctively he moved to teach this insolent little wretch a lesson. But Wei Zhao's stare made his hair stand on end, and he sullenly abandoned the notion, muttering inwardly: this fellow is plainly no more than peak Foundation Establishment, so how does he radiate such a chilling aura?

"Since each side has its reasons, why not let everyone take part in a vote? One vote apiece for the senior brother leading each sect—whoever gets the most votes wins." Xin Yi'an thought it over and said.

"I have no objection. Let them begin healing, then," Wei Zhao said, with a glance at him. If Xin Yi'an had a bit more mettle, in a situation like this he would have overridden all objections and decided the matter himself. He would never have resorted to such a muddled, half-and-half method, which looked as though it offended no one but in truth pleased neither side. Its only benefit was that if the higher-ups of the Primeval Alliance came to investigate afterward, he would bear no responsibility—after all, this too could be called the will of the majority.

There was no help for it; Xin Yi'an was simply that sort of man—seemingly honest and generous, in truth smooth and evasive. In ordinary times he was easy to deal with, but at a critical moment all that remained was the instinct to look out for himself. Wei Zhao was not in the least surprised.

"Ha! You really are full of yourself, aren't you? You are not the senior brother leading any Primeval sect—you don't even have the right to cast a vote. What damned opinion could you possibly have?" Xue Jianming seized the chance to mock him.

"Who says I don't!" Xin Yi'an gave a huff and at once announced: "My martial grand-uncle is the most honored person present from our Cangwu Sect of the North Island. Whom the Cangwu Sect votes for is naturally for my martial grand-uncle to decide."

He knew well enough that proposing this vote had already, without his intending it, displeased Wei Zhao. Now he must find some way to make amends. Handing the decision to Wei Zhao amounted to casting his ballot for Leng Leng in disguised form—a small token of apology.

"Very well. My vote goes to Leng Leng," Wei Zhao said without ceremony.

"Some people really do lose their heads at the sight of a pretty face. I am not like that—in a situation like this, one must follow the public judgment and nothing else. The Xue Jian Sect's vote goes to Duanmu Yu," Xue Jianming shot back, matching him thrust for thrust.

In saying this he entirely forgot Bing Wushuang's existence. In both strength and standing, Bing Wushuang was above him; moreover, Bing Wushuang's identity in the mortal world was that of the Xue Jian Sect's leading martial uncle sent to oversee them. By every principle of feeling and reason, the decision should have been his, not Xue Jianming's.

Feeling a chill at his back, Xue Jianming came to his senses and hastily patched things over: "Martial Uncle Bing surely means the same, does he not?"

Bing Wushuang said nothing. His displeasure at Xue Jianming's acting on his own was only natural, but to force the vote to Leng Leng would be too blatantly obvious, so he could only keep to his customary manner—and pay it no mind.

After that, the senior brothers leading the other Primeval sects declared their positions one after another, and soon Xin Yi'an had the tally.

"Seven votes for Leng Leng, four for Duanmu Yu. Therefore, according to the result of the vote, this match is to be adjudged a victory for Leng Leng," Xin Yi'an announced.

"How can that be?" Xue Jianming was astonished. This result was truly unexpected. He had thought that with the Golden Core strength he had displayed earlier, plus his long-standing prestige, a single cry would draw a hundred answers, and the senior brothers of the other Primeval sects would surely curry favor and echo him. Who would have imagined the crowd would go lick Wei Zhao's boots instead!

To be sure, the Golden Core strength Xue Jianming had displayed was somewhat frightening, but at bottom he was merely an early Golden Core expert, and at most he could overawe the others a little. To suppose the whole crowd would curry favor and echo him—that was truly thinking too much.

Every Primeval sect had its own early Golden Core experts. Even if they did flatter Xue Jianming, what benefit was that to them?

Wei Zhao was a different matter. From early on, everyone had known he was not short of spirit jade and was a veritable great patron of wealth. And over these many days of the trial tournament, they had come to see a thing or two: whatever the reason, this Wei Zhao truly possessed counters to the moves of nearly every Primeval sect. On these two counts alone, Wei Zhao was far more worth currying favor with than Xue Jianming. (To be continued.)