Silence was the answer.
From Ling Cang's silence, Ling Xuan understood many things.
Although his brother had always considered himself the number one person in the Dao of the Sword and could walk sideways through Jiuxuan City without anyone daring to stop him, he was never the type to "pretend to understand when he didn't."
When encountering things he didn't understand, he would usually admit it directly. But his silence now meant he likely guessed something, but what he could say was probably something no one would believe if told.
Ling Xuan gasped, suddenly feeling a chill down his back.
Was this Han Xuanji already so strong that even his brother had to remain silent?
Then that wild talk he had made earlier at Qianmeng Pavilion was practically a death wish.
He suddenly felt that the matter of apologizing in public earlier really wasn't shameful at all. If someone dug up old scores after Han Xuanji won the championship, that would be true social death.
No, just apologizing lacked sincerity; he had to give gifts to build a better relationship.
Even if he couldn't befriend Han Xuanji, at the very least, he shouldn't make an enemy of him.
Ling Xuan's mind became active, and his gaze drifted involuntarily toward the direction of Wang Ping, Li Tiantong, and the others.
After this Law Conference ended, Han Xuanji himself would inevitably become a target for major factions to fight over; he wasn't a big shot he could easily approach, so he would start with his friends.
As long as he could build a good relationship with these few people, perhaps he could get a word in with Han Xuanji in the future.
Thinking of this, Ling Xuan straightened his robes, cleared his throat, and snuck over toward Wang Ping's side again.
Wang Ping was talking to Hun Jiuge when he suddenly caught a glimpse of a figure sneaking closer out of the corner of his eye. He looked up and immediately chuckled.
Ling Xuan grinned, completely lacking the demeanor of a noble family disciple.
"Brothers, I feel my apology earlier still lacked sincerity."
Ling Xuan cupped his hands, his tone sincere:
"How about this: after the conference ends, I'll host a meal at the best restaurant to make amends. You must absolutely give me this Face."
Wang Ping was stunned for a moment, then laughed, "You really know how to handle things. Fine, if someone is treating, how could we refuse?"
Even though Ling Xuan's words earlier had made them very unhappy, having one more friend was better than having one more enemy.
Being able to befriend a Saint family disciple like Ling Xuan was a good thing for him too.
Hun Jiuge also nodded, "That sounds great, but we can't summon Young Master Han."
Ling Xuan waved his hands repeatedly, "I wouldn't dare trouble Young Master Han; I just want to make friends with you all. Making friends—that's not too much to ask, right?"
Li Tiantong glanced at him without speaking, only the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.
Although this person had been a bit arrogant at first, he could bend and stretch, knew when to correct his mistakes, and wasn't entirely hopeless.
A gentleman judges by actions, not intentions. Since he intended to make amends, there was no need for them to keep cold Faces.
Ling Cang had also secretly observed this scene and nodded slightly. His younger brother had finally done something smart.
For his Ling Family to stand tall in Jiuxuan City for so many years, it relied not only on powerful Old Ancestors but also on this grasp of social nuances.
Make more friends, make fewer enemies. That is the way to exist and endure in this world.
In fact, most ordinary spectators did not see the subtleties of the battle.
They only saw Song Tiancheng looking aggressive, seemingly unleashing a powerful technique. Then, Han Xuanji used some unknown method to neutralize the move, and Song Tiancheng conceded cleanly and decisively.
This process sounds complex, but in reality, to onlookers, it didn't take much time at all. It made it seem like Han Xuanji won too easily.
"He's conceding already? It's just over like that?" Someone couldn't help but shout, "His stance looked so intimidating; I thought they were going to have a huge fight!"
"Exactly, such a big display, only to be broken in a few moves, and then he just concedes? Isn't this a joke?"
"Is Song Tiancheng really bad at actual combat? I saw him winning sluggishly in the previous rounds too; once he hit a tough opponent, he couldn't handle it."
"I don't think it's that Song Tiancheng is bad; it's that Han Xuanji is too strong. I heard from my elders that this move of Song Tiancheng's is a Saint-level Dao technique. Even if an Eternal Dao Lord unleashed it, the power would be extraordinary."
"Then explain why he conceded so cleanly?"
"How would I know? I'm not Song Tiancheng!"
The discussions rose and fell, and in the end, most people reached a surprisingly consistent conclusion: Song Tiancheng was overrated.
So much for "Number one in Dao Foundation" and "Unrivaled Comprehension Ability." Is this all he amounts to when actually fighting? He conceded without even touching a corner of his opponent's clothes?
Although these discussions weren't loud, most of those present were Cultivators, and their perception was incredibly sharp.
Song Ling sat on the high platform, and those voices were like thin needles pricking his ears, making him feel physically uncomfortable all over.
Of course, he knew Song Tiancheng wasn't just famous for nothing. The fourth level of the Tianluo Dao Domain was genuine skill; in any Law Conference, it would be a performance that shocked the entire audience.
But laypeople watch for the spectacle; they didn't understand the intricacies, only knowing that Song Tiancheng had lost, and lost quite ugly.
And as a senior of the Song Family, he naturally lost Face as well.
Song Ling endured and endured, but in the end, he couldn't suppress the doubts in his heart. He quietly activated a sound transmission secret technique, sending his voice into the ears of Song Tiancheng, who was resting beside him:
"Tiancheng, in that battle just now, what method did Han Xuanji use? How could your Tianluo Dao Domain be broken so quickly?"
Hearing Song Ling's voice, Song Tiancheng was silent for a moment. His gaze fell upon the figure in green robes on the light screen, his heart still savoring the feeling of that moment.
Han Xuanji's power was like a bottomless ocean; his Tianluo Dao Domain fell into it without even stirring a ripple. That feeling wasn't about being inferior in skill, but a gap in essence.
In the end, it was even neutralized by the opponent using methods related to Dao laws. He opened his mouth, wanting to tell the truth. He suddenly remembered that when Han Xuanji defeated him, he had sent a message telling him to keep it a secret. In the end, Song Tiancheng swallowed the words that had reached his lips and replaced them with a calm and light tone:
"It's nothing, just inferior skill."
Song Ling frowned, "What kind of talk is that? I am your clan uncle; are you keeping secrets even from me?"
Song Tiancheng was silent for a moment, then spoke again, his tone flat yet firm, "Uncle, some things are better left unknown. You only need to know that Han Xuanji's strength far exceeds my imagination; that is enough."
Song Ling was stunned, opened his mouth to say something, but in the end, said nothing. Although he was a senior, Song Tiancheng was the precious treasure of the various Old Ancestors in the clan. If he reprimanded Song Tiancheng now, even if he were in the right, when the other party returned to the clan, he would be lectured by the Old Ancestors one by one.