Volume 1, Chapter 27 – Seeing Through

Arriving at the camphor grove next door, Bai Xiang first took in the view.

Though they called it a camphor-bamboo grove, there actually wasn’t much bamboo—just a ring of plantings on the outside; within, it was still mostly trees.

The grove wasn’t large, but one had to remember it sat on the edge of the circuit city’s busiest district.

Land here was worth its weight in gold. To own a lot like this, build a dojo, and fence off a grove—by the standards of peer sword daos, that was unimaginably generous.

The dojo sat high. Coming to the grove’s edge, Bai Xiang stood by a three-meter boulder and the guardrail, gazing into the distance, where the flow of traffic made the bustle of the city coexist with quiet.

Soundlessly, Bai Zhuqing came up behind Bai Xiang.

Seventeen now, the girl had long since grown into her grace. In a pure white faux-ancient dress with her sleeves folded together, sleek black hair falling naturally, misty large eyes in a fair face fixed straight on Bai Xiang.

“Sister Xiang.”

She spoke first, breaking the hush between the trees. Her next sentence made Bai Xiang’s heart jolt of its own accord.

“…May I still call you Sister Xiang?”

What did that mean?

Bai Xiang froze.

Taking the scene, context, and the words together and analyzing them carefully, the only conclusion was—Bai Zhuqing had seen that she “wasn’t the same person.”

But how could that be?

With “entering the Dao and Knowing the Self” as the pretext for change, even Chen Jing, Gao Feng, Bai Shengju… and Bai Leying hadn’t noticed!

Why could Bai Zhuqing be sure I wasn’t the original?

Was there some key episode missing from my memories?

Thinking of Bai Zhuqing’s special gift, Bai Xiang frowned, wondering if the original had already had some vague, taboo entanglement with her.

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Between sisters… unlikely, but not impossible.

Yet no matter how she racked her brains, recalling scenes involving Bai Zhuqing, she found no evidence of the two being “intimate.”

“You may be wondering why I’d say this—and why I’m this certain.”

Bai Zhuqing lowered her head with a sigh.

“Right… Even Leying hasn’t noticed. Father and Grandpa are oblivious. If I were you I’d find it absurd too, and think, ‘Has she lost her mind, babbling nonsense out of nowhere?’”

“But that’s because…”

She lifted her face again, a near-feverish look in her eyes as she gazed at Bai Xiang, voice trembling:

“Because no one else—no one—has carved every last thing about Sister Xiang into her mind the way I have.”

“Sister Xiang’s daily likes.”

“Sister Xiang’s tone of voice—her rhythms and cadences.”

“How Sister Xiang sits, lies down, walks, stands…”

“These are things I doubt Grandpa and the others watch closely!”

“But only I—only I can see that there’s already someone else inside Sister Xiang’s body!”

“Perhaps I should be calling you… Aunt Nianchan?”

“…!?”

There was so much packed into that line that even Bai Xiang was stunned for a moment.

Oh. So we really didn’t have any taboo relationship—but this girl harbored improper thoughts for her own elder sister, one-sided.

And so strong were those thoughts that she’d etched her sister’s every word and gesture into her heart—and recognized at once that this body had changed owners.

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Indeed… everything else could be explained, but posture—how one walks and stands—those tiniest, most granular habits of life were beyond Bai Xiang’s ability to explain away.

Memory is memory; habit is habit.

Even if she knew how the original Bai Xiang sat, walked, and stood.

Even if the body held muscle memory, like with the Sword Contemplation posture.

It was still a different soul, a different spirit.

Those unconscious postures and movements were bound to warp.

They would inevitably skew toward Bai Xiang’s habits from her previous life, changing ever so slightly.

And those slight changes—a little girl had noticed them…

Bai Zhuqing’s eye for detail left Bai Xiang shocked.

But that “Aunt Nianchan” at the end did let her breathe easier.

Oh…

She knew about Bai Nianchan as well.

Grandpa would never have told her; either Bai Guanshan and Zhu Ying did, or she’d overheard them discussing Bai Nianchan.

Bai Xiang favored the latter.

Knowing Bai Nianchan’s story, she hadn’t suspected Bai Xiang was from another world—she simply assumed Bai Nianchan’s spirit had seized/possessed her.

That was probably Bai Zhuqing’s current thought.

But that wasn’t much better.

Thinking it through, Bai Xiang realized that if she were Bai Zhuqing, she too would pin it firmly on Bai Nianchan.

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First—shortly after Bai Nianchan’s death, this abandoned infant had been adopted by Bai Shengju.

Great Yu had Daoism and Buddhism. If you believed in reincarnation, the timing lined up “just so.”

Second—before the crossing, the original’s sword-dao talent had been quite mediocre—harshly speaking, not even as good as Zhuqing’s and Leying’s. Those two had both been declared by Bai Shengju likely to glimpse the truth and enter the Dao around eighteen.

But the instant I crossed over and took the reins, I made such a stir—my sword talent jumped from “mediocre” to “stunningly gifted,” “the sort of genius whose name could end up on the desks of a Watchman, a Chief Inspector… even the state governor.”

Using “entering the Dao” to mask that jump was normally fine.

After all, many people are like that—once they enter the Dao, their temperament changes as if they’ve become someone else. There are examples across the ages.

But in Bai Zhuqing’s eyes!

In this younger sister’s eyes—the one who saw through the change in her posture!

With that change and what she knew, she could only think it was Bai Nianchan—the dead aunt—manifesting inside “Sister Xiang,” that “Sister Xiang” had awakened past-life wisdom!

Bai Nianchan was a sword-dao prodigy too.

Bai Nianchan was stunningly gifted too.

From Bai Shengju’s short account you could infer she was also someone who acted more than she spoke—hard when needed, sparing of words.

The resemblance.

Too close.

With so many coincidences lining up, Bai Xiang truly had no idea how to argue.

And her staying silent, not even turning her head—of course that read as guilt to Bai Zhuqing.

“Aunt Nianchan…”

Her eyes burned, fixed on the fine lines of Bai Xiang’s back.

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“These days I’ve buried myself in Buddhist sutras.”

“The sutras say, ‘Between Heaven and Earth, the five paths are distinct. Good and evil bring reward and retribution; fortune and misfortune follow one another.’”

“I won’t tell anyone—and besides, I know no one would believe me anyway.”

“I just want clarity.”

“Was it Aunt Nianchan who took my Sister Xiang from me—”

“Or was Sister Xiang always Aunt Nianchan to begin with…?”

Finished, she held that gaze, quietly waiting for Bai Xiang’s reply.

But how were you supposed to answer something like that?

Any explanation would only tangle things further. So Bai Xiang cut the knot, turned her head, and said, “You’re overthinking it.”

“Now that I’ve entered the Dao, of course I’m not the way you remember. And I am certainly not any ‘Aunt Nianchan.’”

“…Say this once and it’s enough. Don’t come to bother me with it again.”

With a near-heartless reply to her sister, Bai Xiang strode off first.

While she spoke, Bai Zhuqing’s brows had knit slightly, but soon her fists clenched. Lips pressed tight, she fixed on Bai Xiang’s departing back.

“Of course you wouldn’t admit it outright…”

“And I won’t give up.”

“Whether you’re Sister Xiang—or Aunt Nianchan.”