Sect Master Jiang Xianwei watched it happen, then let out a quiet breath through his nose.
A smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth.
Monstrous.
There really was no better word to describe Elder Bai Qingshui when he played like this. Not wild, not overwhelming, but relentless in precision. Controlled, thoughtful, and deeply refined. Every strike had intent. Every step forward, earned.
If he ended up losing this match without even getting a chance to strike, it would sting. Not in the prideful way of a sore loser, but in the quiet ache of a missed opportunity. A match without a proper clash was not a match. It was just watching fate do what it pleased.
But he wasn't about to blame anything unfair.
If luck placed Elder Bai Qingshui as the one to take the break shot, then so be it. That was the draw. And it was playing out beautifully.
Still… that wasn't the full story.
It wasn't just luck.
