Volume 1, Chapter 35 – Expelled from the Dojo!

What the—?

Smashed in the face, Jiang Haojing reeled in a daze, staggering back a few steps before the sharp pain in the bridge of her nose hit—and tears she couldn’t stop spilled out.

“You… Bai Xiang?”

Through the blur she barely made out the person before her.

White-based, black-trimmed faux-ancient dress; hem above the knee showing black stockings; a pair of red-thonged clogs… Dressed like that, and she dared ambush her?

“You wanted rules, didn’t you.” Ignoring the shock in Jiang Haojing and the crowd, Bai Xiang casually tossed the bundle of dirty stockings to Bai Zhuqing and drew her wooden sword in full view of all.

“The dojo rules include this: to withdraw from the Dao, you must face the Chief. Only those who can take three moves get their tuition settled.”

Such a rule did exist.

Not only in Shenming—many sword daos had it.

Usually, even if the gap with the Chief was huge, this was just going through the motions.

But this time, it was Bai Xiang doing it.

Which meant it wouldn’t be “just for show.”

“If you can’t even take three moves.”

She swept a cold gaze over the bystanders.

“Then this isn’t you withdrawing.”

“It’s me, the Chief, acting in the Dao Lord’s stead—expelling you all from the dojo.”

What the hell?

Jiang Haojing and the disciples seeking to withdraw were stunned.

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Sure, that rule existed—but Bai Xiang… was she sure she wanted to invoke that power?

Jiang Haojing had lived at the dojo most of the time; she knew exactly how strong Bai Xiang was. She snorted. “That’s right… but isn’t there another line after that?”

“If the Chief accepts a challenge and loses, then it’s not just a settlement—it’s a refund at double the full amount!”

At “double refund,” faces around the withdrawing disciples changed at once.

Judging by their black practice garb, they were “intermediate-class” students—a track aimed at ordinary families. In other words, most came from modest backgrounds.

If a handful quit, you could call it a matter of personal ambition. So many coming at once, led by a “direct disciple” like Jiang Haojing—anyone could see they’d been egged on from outside.

It was shameful; if not for real hardship at home and an offer too rich to refuse, they wouldn’t choose to withdraw and then show up en masse to demand money.

But… since this wouldn’t end cleanly and they’d offend Shenming Dojo anyway, why not squeeze what they could before walking out?

“Senior Sister Bai Xiang.” One finally gave in to temptation, raised his sword, and saluted from a distance. “I challenge Senior Sister here and now—do you accept?”

“Accepted,” Bai Xiang answered almost on top of his words.

“And don’t waste time one by one.”

“I’ll take all your challenges.”

“You said it!”

Delighted, Jiang Haojing drew her blade and pointed at Bai Xiang. “What are you waiting for! All together!”

She wasn’t stupid—she’d been slow at first, but as Bai Xiang spoke she turned over what gave her such confidence, and remembered… a moment ago, Bai Xiang had easily batted aside her sword.

Which meant this “Eldest Senior Sister” of mediocre talent had likely entered the Dao.

Jiang Haojing wasn’t the posturing type; if it were just her against Bai Xiang, she might hesitate.

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She’d meant to prod the others to test the waters first—but this foolish senior had the gall to boast she’d take them all at once!

A rare opportunity!

To withdraw they’d have to see Bai Shengju, and Jiang Haojing still feared the old man a bit. At the very least, she wouldn’t dare say some of what she’d just said to his face.

Which meant wrangling over withdrawal and tuition would drag on.

But now it was different!

Bai Xiang herself had accepted—and she really was the Chief!

So many had heard it; with mutual testimony, defeat her and nothing could block their withdrawal!

And they could squeeze double the money besides! Wouldn’t that be overdelivering?

If Dao Lord Liu knew she’d wrapped this up so neatly, would he take her to see the visualization chart?

Watching black-clad trainees, eyes gone red, swarm forward, Jiang Haojing’s head filled with the promises Dao Lord Liu Mengqing of Ride-the-Wind Sword Dao had made her.

“Ah!”

A scream snapped her out of her fantasy.

She focused—and her face went slack with shock.

It was Bai Xiang… Even in shoes that hampered movement, surrounded by no fewer than twenty wooden swords, she moved with ease, dropping someone within two moves.

That first screamer had his blade swept aside, midline pried open; her follow-up kick to the gut bowled him into two more, the three tumbling together in a heap.

Sister Xiang looks… truly angry!

Bai Zhuqing watched, wildly excited, wishing her eyes were a camera so she could record Bai Xiang cutting loose.

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“Die! Die!”

“Crack!”

“Aaah—”

Under pressure, someone slashed for Bai Xiang’s vitals; she didn’t go easy—either drove them off their feet with a thrust, or smashed a brutal sweep into the front of their supporting knee, producing several backward-bent breaks.

“‘Raucous Spring Wind’!”

“‘Hate That Summer’s Short’!”

Shenming’s ancestral sword forms flowed apart and recombined in her hands; paired with perfected skin-tempering’s flex and perfected flesh-tempering’s terrifying muscle—result: no one could lay a blade on her, and no one could meet a single cut head-on.

“Clang-clang—clatter—”

White hair flying, Bai Xiang ghosted through the crowd; where she passed came either screams or bodies arcing away, the ring of blades and wooden swords hitting stone merged in one; in a flash she’d broken out and dove straight for Jiang Haojing!

How can she be that fast?

Jiang Haojing flinched and sidestepped.

In her place, she couldn’t replicate Bai Xiang’s carnage. Knowing herself outmatched, she didn’t dare meet her blade to blade.

“Useless.”

At Bai Xiang’s speed, every move Jiang made was full of holes.

With that curse, Bai Xiang struck along Jiang’s line of retreat; her blade smacked square into Jiang’s sword wrist. “Ah!” The wrist warped, the wooden sword flew free.

“You—”

Jiang Haojing blanched; as she began to speak, another punch in midair smashed her face, a broken tooth flying sideways.

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Her head rang.

Her brain buzzed; she couldn’t muster a counter.

Bai Xiang’s power could blast a demon’s skull head-on—holding back or not, it wasn’t something a mere first-stage Nurture the Spirit like Jiang could endure.

With her foe going limp, Bai Xiang still didn’t stop.

She grabbed Jiang by the collar and, under the eyes of disciples cowering or sprawled, hauled her like a dead dog to the paifang gate—then flung her out.

“Thud!”

Terrified, Jiang barely shielded the back of her head; her body slammed hard onto the steps, sliding a ways down the slope.

“You—!”

In agony, she couldn’t fathom how Bai Xiang dared treat her like this.

Was she trying to cause a death!?

She meant to demand answers—but when she looked up, she met eyes gazing down from the high threshold.

White hair flared, antique long sword.

Evening light struck Bai Xiang from the right, masking most of her face in shadow.

“Remember this.”

From on high, she looked down the long stair.

“The one who expels you from these gates is Shenming’s Bai Xiang.”