Volume 2, Chapter 67 – Fetal Stirring

There’s something wrong with this guy.

The Luohou youth “Bolu” blasted his opponent off the platform. A lot of people saw it, Bai Xiang included.

But while others were shocked at how clean and ruthless his strike was, Bai Xiang felt a stabbing, nauseating pain in her head the moment she saw him.

She hadn’t felt this when observing the Luohou delegation earlier, probably because Bolu had been hiding among the crowd and banners at the time, never entering her direct line of sight. Now she could clearly see his face, his features, and even the way his lips moved when he exchanged silent words with Xia Ran. That sensation spiked all at once, making her instinctively wary of him.

At that moment, she deliberately turned to look at Xiang Xian and saw her still haggling with Wang Ran over exchange students, arguing over some interests.

Then Bai Xiang suddenly stood up, looking down the row of VIP seats from above. At the far end, she saw Master Li Sheng sitting with the students of the Qingze Sword Institute. Sensing her stare, Li Sheng was startled and immediately turned to look back.

Very strange.

Ignoring the murmurs around her at her odd behavior, Bai Xiang sat back down. The wariness in her heart not only failed to subside, it grew even stronger.

Xiang Xian, Li Sheng, and Wang Ran—three Divine Fetus experts—were all acting like Bolu was nothing.

Most likely, in their eyes, this Luohou youth was a formidable enemy for their own disciples and might even cost them some face at this exchange meet.

—but that was all. None of them thought Bolu had any other special qualities. The discomfort Bai Xiang felt when staring at him simply wasn’t appearing on any of them.

Am I the only one who can sense it?

Bai Xiang took a deep breath and shifted her gaze to the other Luohou contestants.

The Luohou people weren’t naturally dark-skinned. Their features were quite clear and well-defined. It was just that the hot local climate had tanned them to a brown-black, making them very recognizable among the crowd.

Soon she picked out two more Luohou contestants who gave her that same “wrongness”.

Three of them in total—that couldn’t be just Bolu’s problem. It had to be something affecting the entire Luohou delegation.

Bai Xiang came to that conclusion.

She still didn’t know exactly what this feeling was, but she did have some leads.

In a joking tone once, Xiang Xian had told her that the legend of the Nine Tribulations Method circulated among the upper echelons of the lands of Yu, but those with real connections never believed it. Because true reincarnation simply didn’t exist. Those so-called “Dao Kong’s words” that lingered on were just proof that he’d been tainted.

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Tainted, turned into Yaosui, with fragments of his soul clinging to certain objects and being passed down—that was the real truth behind the Nine Tribulations Method.

Xiang Xian herself had said that the Yaosui formed from Daokong Chan Master was the most dangerous kind, involving the soul itself. Even she might be caught off guard if she wasn’t careful.

So Bai Xiang was fairly sure that this discomfort—one that could slip past Divine Fetus cultivators yet be noticed by her—probably originated from the souls of those three.

“What is it, Xiang’er?”

Bai Xiang’s odd behavior finally drew Xiang Xian’s attention. She temporarily left the old man Wang Ran aside and looked at her with concern.

“What does Master think of that Bolu?” Bai Xiang asked.

She already had her own suspicions, but she still wanted to hear what Xiang Xian would say.

“I don’t know how he managed to train like that without a Visualization Chart.” Xiang Xian frowned slightly. “But his ‘shi’—his momentum—has been cultivated to quite some depth. He’s very likely proficient in two or more divine abilities.”

“And his physique is clearly different from ordinary people’s. In the Condensing the Aspect range, he’s a serious threat to the others.”

Master really hadn’t seen it.

Bai Xiang nodded and didn’t pursue the topic.

Wang Ran, however, was getting excited. Leaning past Xiang Xian, he said to Bai Xiang, “Lady Xiang once saved disciples of the Qi school. That’s a favor to me, Wang, as well.”

“And from what I see, Lady Xiang has no interest in all sorts of external things. You must be focused single-mindedly on cultivation. Why not stay in my Sword Institute for a while, study some classics in depth before leaving?”

“Oh?” Xiang Xian laughed at the side. “You planning to bring out all Thirty-Six Stance Arts?”

Wang Ran chuckled. “As long as Lady Xiang is willing, it’s not impossible.”

Now Xiang Xian frowned.

Even lacking the matching Demon Pool and Heart-Vessel Chart so that outsiders couldn’t draw out the full power of the Thirty-Six Stance Arts, they were still secret-level classics of Benling Sword Dao—not something just anyone could see.

The old codger was really bleeding for this. Should she just agree?

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Mm… better to ask Xiang’er when the time came and see what she thought.

Xiang Xian continued stringing Wang Ran along in conversation, while Bai Xiang turned her focus back to the duels in the arena.

After watching for a while, she quickly locked onto a few people whose abilities clearly outstripped the rest of the contestants. Barring surprises, the final champion would come from among them.

One of them, of course, was Bolu.

His fighting style was extremely simple and direct—huge strength, high speed. He could match long swords with his bare hands. Nearly every opponent had their sword slapped aside by one of his palms, leaving their center wide open, then got another palm to the chest that sent them flying from the platform.

Another was Xia Ran, a Sword-Track Student from Qizhou University. On the surface he came across as nimble and elusive, always able to dodge when a slash came his way. But Bai Xiang paid attention to his feet—through all his fights, his soles never once left the ground.

He was using the Tang Step.

Tang Step emphasized the lower body, known for its steadiness and weight. There was no way he was really the agile type he appeared to be. Inside that skinny frame, there had to be a powerful force coiled up.

The gap between these two and their opponents was just too big. So far, no one had even forced them to draw their swords.

In addition, there was one man and one woman from Qingze University, representing Shangqing Sword Dao.

The man was named Zhao Jinyan. If his skin hadn’t been a bit dark, you could call him handsome and dashing. He wielded a curved serpent sword, his sword trends weird and vicious. Two or three strikes were usually enough to flick his opponent’s weapon from their hand and force them to concede.

The woman was the blue-skirted girl who’d been by Master Li Sheng’s side earlier, named Leng Qiu. She used a regular sword, but her sword trends were even fiercer and more ruthless than Zhao Jinyan’s. Every match started with a flash of violet lightning; her opponents never even had time to react before she had her blade at their throat.

Basically, it all came down to these four.

So Bai Xiang concluded.

This was the first tier she’d sorted out.

There were a few people in the second tier as well. From Qizhou University, there were Meng Zhiyu, Han Tong, and Zhou Yingxing.

From the Luohou delegation, there were Zongli and Yetasha.

Qingze had none—it seemed they’d only brought their elite this time.

Zongli and Yetasha were exactly the two Luohou contestants who’d given Bai Xiang that same sense of wrongness earlier. She’d been watching their fights the whole time, but couldn’t see anything off on the surface.

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Suddenly, a needle-prick sense of danger ran down Bai Xiang’s spine. She jerked her head up and scanned the surroundings, quickly locking onto a VIP seating section on the other side of the field—where she found a lean, immortal-looking old man staring straight at her.

Zhou Jing’an.

The Qingya Sword Saint was a big figure in the Chilong Circuit. Among the common folk, his fame and prestige were even greater than that of Xu Zhe, the Watchman. Bai Xiang had naturally seen his photo before and recognized him at a glance.

He’d come to watch as well. Was he invited?

As if something clicked, Bai Xiang turned back to the arena and saw a tall youth around twenty waving repeatedly in that direction. His features were fifty–sixty percent similar to Zhou Ji’s.

So that’s it… Zhou Yingxing.

He’d come for the younger generation competing.

Bai Xiang had never paid attention to whether Zhou Ji had an older brother, or where that person studied.

But judging from the Zhou clan’s influence and methods, Qizhou University was their best option.

She’d beaten Zhou Ji up because he and Chai Xuan had plotted against her. Now that Chai Xuan was dead and the truth of everything had come to light, that incident would inevitably be a stain on Zhou Ji that couldn’t be washed away. The Zhou family definitely wasn’t going to like Bai Xiang.

Is that why he wants to kill me?

Bai Xiang looked at Zhou Jing’an again and met the old man’s gaze head-on for a few seconds before ignoring him and focusing on the matches.

She’s not afraid of me?

Zhou Jing’an frowned, puzzled by her reaction.

Does she think that with a Divine Fetus cultivator as her backer, she doesn’t need to put a mere Purple Core like me in her eyes…

A shadowy gleam flickered in his eyes, and something nameless inside his body began to stir and roar, as if using his anger as fuel to grow and grow, trying to completely take him over.

His expression changed. Zhou Jing’an quickly took out a pillbox, poured a black pill into his mouth, and swallowed. Only then did his aura gradually settle.

When he turned his head, he noticed Zhou Ji was also staring toward Bai Xiang, his calm expression distorted.

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That was perfectly normal.

Even without grudges, a normal person would feel jealous and dejected seeing someone they knew suddenly soar into the sky. All the more so when Zhou Ji and Bai Xiang had a grudge—he’d even once had those kinds of thoughts about her.

But look at them now.

One was famous across the Qi region, her name remembered by teachers and students throughout all nine prefectures.

The other had colluded with human traitors and dragged his clan into scandal so deep he didn’t even dare attend school anymore, relying entirely on his elders’ sleeves to shield him from the wind and rain.

The tangle of feelings in all that was far from something a few words could describe. Zhou Ji watched Bai Xiang for a while, then turned and asked his grandfather, “We’re just going to let the debt with the Bai family go like this?”

Zhou Jing’an looked at him and said nothing.

Zhou Ji’s eyelid twitched. He muttered, “The Chengfeng Sword Dao mess was started by us.”

“If we just let them develop, one day, the status of the Qingya Sword will be taken by Shenming.”

“Sense of crisis,” Zhou Jing’an said at last. “That might be one of the few things you’re stronger in than Yingxing.”

Zhou Ji’s face darkened.

It was a compliment on paper, but he’d had enough of being compared to his older brother.

“But remember this: when something happens, don’t rush.”

Zhou Jing’an lifted his gaze to the arena.

“If you’re always trying to fulfill your wishes by relying on your own strength alone, the road is going to be very hard. The results often won’t be what you hoped.”

“You need to learn to borrow momentum.”

“Especially the momentum of an era.”