Volume 1, Chapter 41 – Bai Zhuqing’s Sword

Bai Zhuqing slept in until the sun was high before she woke. When she saw no one beside her, she was groggy for a moment.

Ah—what was I doing last night?

Why does this look like Sister Xiang’s room… How did I end up sleeping in Sister Xiang’s—Auntie’s—bed…?

Her gaze fell on the pen and paper on the table, and only then did Bai Zhuqing recall a string of details. She smacked her forehead and sat bolt upright.

“Bad!”

“Bad, bad…”

“Why don’t I see Auntie anywhere?”

“She didn’t take a wrong turn in practice and blow herself up, did she?”

“You hoping I’d blow up that much?”

Carrying a kettle, Bai Xiang stepped in through the door.

Bai Zhuqing hurried to look at her, then stared again once she took her in.

The antique dress and black stockings were gone—those were uncomfortable to wear at home—so Bai Xiang had changed back into a hoodie and sweatpants.

Nothing special about the clothes, but because her new inner‑landscape circulation had been established, she was cultivating her whole body at every moment; even the smallest movement, even a glance, held a different luster than before.

Bai Zhuqing gaped outright. After a long beat she came back to herself and asked in wonder, “Auntie… you succeeded?”

“More or less.” Bai Xiang’s answer hedged.

Lifting the cloth cover, she took out two cups and poured water into them, then poured more into the metal basin to set up Bai Zhuqing’s wash‑up for getting out of bed.

“Really?” Bai Zhuqing blinked, dubious.

“Auntie isn’t tricking me, is she?”

At first she was happy, but thinking back on what she’d copied out the night before, she felt Bai Xiang was teasing her.

Something that ridiculous—besides, I didn’t even tell her the last part—how could she possibly have cultivated it?

Impossible.

Absolutely impossible.

What she didn’t know was that in the original Scripture of Returning to Origin and Transforming Qi, whether Monk Yuanjue, Daoist Qu, or Chan Master Wenluo in the end, every practice they listed was wrong.

Since it was all wrong, hiding the “most important section” was meaningless. Bai Xiang simply didn’t need it.

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“I don’t believe it!”

Bai Zhuqing hopped off the bed and moved to press her palm to the back‑heart point.

Bai Xiang didn’t dodge; as the hand touched, she controlled her mind‑current and simulated its old inner‑landscape route.

“No change…!” Bai Zhuqing cried. “You really were tricking me!”

“You’re awful, Sis!”

Half frightened, she hugged Bai Xiang from behind and, cheek to her back, drew a deep breath. “Don’t take risks like this again, okay?”

“You’ve already gotten in with Governor Fang—if you want methods and training, he can say the word!… What Sword Dao under heaven wouldn’t take you?”

“If the price is you taking this kind of risk…”

Her voice grew smaller and smaller.

“Then I’d rather be thrown out of here!”

“Anyway, only where Mom, Dad, and Grandpa are—and you, Sister Xiang—counts as home.”

“If the people are gone, what use is a dojo left to me?”

Hm?

Bai Xiang was a little at a loss.

Truth be told, her seeing so clearly caught Bai Xiang off guard.

She’d thought Zhuqing’s feelings for her were nothing more than childhood memory not yet faded, friendship misjudged, sisterly affection she couldn’t untangle.

Like this… you’re putting me in a tough spot…

“Go wash up.”

With no answer at hand, she turned and ruffled her little sister’s hair.

“I’ll watch your swordwork in a bit, then I’ll go check on Grandpa.”

Taking that as agreement, Bai Zhuqing half‑closed her eyes to enjoy the head‑rub, gave a very obedient “mm,” and picked up a cup to brush her teeth.

So simulated mind‑flow really can mislead a person’s judgment.

From her reaction, Bai Xiang confirmed a suspicion.

That was good news.

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Even if something comes up later and someone needs to examine her inner landscape, she could fudge it with this trick.

While practicing, Bai Xiang made another unexpected discovery.

Namely, Bai Zhuqing’s grasp of the Shenming sword art was quite high—yet surprisingly poor in actual combat.

Why?

Because her body was too stubborn.

The swordwork taught at the Shenming Dojo now is an improved version of the ancestral Shenming Sword; Bai Shengju cut out certain moves that were simply unusable.

As for Bai Zhuqing—

Mentally, she understood and accepted the revised swordwork.

But her body still only recognized the old version. Whenever she practiced, halfway through she would naturally slip into the old moves.

For example, the “Only Hate Summer Is Short” that Bai Xiang had used before.

In the improved version, you snap the sword back and thrust straight and flat, aiming to strike at the heart and end it in one go.

But when Bai Zhuqing did it, she mostly used the old version—pull back, then hold the sword upright before you, stand at attention with a little pause, and strike a pose.

An utterly baffling move. Imagine striking that pose in a real fight… And there were a few such bizarre moves in the entire old set.

Hence why Bai Shengju had to revise the Shenming sword art.

Without revision, it really couldn’t be used.

Bai Xiang tried correcting her several times to no effect, then called a halt and beckoned Zhuqing over. “Why do you keep slipping back to the original?”

“I don’t knooow?” Bai Zhuqing put on innocence. “I guess it started when we split up in middle school. Grandpa began teaching us formally, and by family rules… the first edition had to be learned too. Back then he taught it for maybe ten days, then it was the revised version all the way.”

“By rights the revised one should be far more deeply imprinted. But I don’t know why—once I’m practicing, I just slip back.”

“When you slip, do you feel out of sorts inside?” Bai Xiang pressed.

Bai Zhuqing nodded. “A little…”

“Is it the old method that feels off, or the new one?”

“Um…”

She pouted.

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“The new one.”

That was something she only dared say to Bai Xiang; she’d never say it to Bai Shengju.

No wonder you still haven’t entered the Dao.

Bai Xiang shook her head inwardly.

Entering the Dao, Knowing the Self, is a process of re‑knowing the body and the true self.

Before you start, you first have to relax the body and go with it.

“Follow the Dao of nature” speaks to exactly this step.

Zhuqing likely has the talent, but she keeps practicing the new method that feels wrong to her because Bai Shengju and Bai Lianzhou require it—how could she possibly Know the Self and enter the Dao?

“I’ll talk to Grandpa. From today, stop practicing the new method.”

Bai Xiang gave the advice straight.

“Practice the old.”

“Do whatever feels right to your body.”

“Eh?”

Bai Zhuqing froze.

Then she nodded obediently, fast.

“O‑Okay…”

“Zhuqing will do whatever Auntie says…”

Bai Xiang didn’t read too much into it.

Her main suspicion was that this might be a manifestation of the Bai family’s inherited bloodline.

It sounds a bit mystical, but that’s how it is.

The higher you climb in the Dao‑Initial Three Realms, starting at Forge the Sword, the body is gradually infiltrated and stained by demonic power.

Conceive children like that, and the descendants will carry a thread of demonic traits.

Zhuqing may be showing that trait outwardly; her body thinks she’s very suited to cultivate the Shenming sword art (old). But because the follow‑on Forge‑the‑Sword method and visualization chart were lost, the Bai family had to switch to the new method, burying her talent for nothing.

Thinking of this, she couldn’t help recalling Chan Master Wenluo and the others who bled themselves dry seeking to transform qi simply because they didn’t accept Sword Dao’s orthodox place in Great Yu.

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There is, admittedly, some reason there.

Back to Zhuqing’s bloodline showing itself.

Hard or easy to verify, depending on how you see it: just recover Shenming Sword Dao’s inheritance and let Zhuqing train it—the result will speak.

And that goal isn’t without leads: there really was someone… that Chai Xuan—she paid one visit to the Shenming Dojo, went back, and went from stage three of Nurture the Spirit straight into Forge the Sword—in only half a year all told.

What exactly did she and her father, Chai Jingyuan, get from Shenming?

Watching Zhuqing continue her practice, Bai Xiang kept thinking it over.

The past few days she’d risen early every day to clean the dojo, basically touching and looking over every corner. Beyond helping the dojo and wanting to move her limbs, she also wanted to see if there was a secret hidden here.

Bai Shengju had said it himself—he suspected something about Chai Jingyuan the moment he arrived and had kept a close eye on them. So it was unlikely they’d found some manual tucked into a crevice.

The dojo had been renovated too; if there were a manual, the Bai family would not be unaware of it.

So she suspected the Chais had gotten some hint elsewhere—perhaps even Shenming Sword Dao’s Forge‑the‑Sword method—but that method had a step requiring decryption, and the key to that decryption lay here at Shenming Dojo.

A residual aura?

Or a small‑scale map of the grounds?

But after cleaning every corner of the dojo, she’d found nothing at all.

“Vrrmm—~~~~~~~”

Hm?

Drawn by the noise, Bai Xiang looked up to see Zhuqing striking the “Only Hate Summer Is Short” pose—

Which was to pull the sword back and then hold it upright before her, standing at attention.

The noise came from Zhuqing’s sudden idea: after standing at attention, she gave her wrist a little shake.

No idea how she did it, but the wooden sword began to resonate along a frequency, letting out a low hum.

“Auntie!”

Finding it fun, Zhuqing met Bai Xiang’s eyes. “Look! You can play this move like this!”

And Bai Xiang, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed, stared at the quivering edge of the blade, deep in thought.