Volume 1, Chapter 5 – I’m Filing a Report Too

Way too brazen.

This outcome, this scene, those lines… it wasn’t just the patrons and students who felt a mess of emotions—even “one of our own,” Chen Jing, was stunned.

She had drifted through the whole thing from start to finish in a fog.

Her Sister Xiang had basically woven her a surreal dream just to vent on her behalf…

But…

She snapped back quickly, and her face soured again.

An off‑campus brawl, a broken leg—given the connections it took for Bai Xiang to transfer into No. 1, the school could probably be persuaded to shoehorn it under the “sword‑student duel” rubric and force it away.

But one of the people involved was Zhou Ji.

Chen Jing didn’t know his family’s exact background; she’d only heard he was Qingya faction, with deep ties to “Qingya Sword Dao.”

Otherwise how would he be student council president.

Even if a high‑school council résumé isn’t worth much, once sword dao is involved, without special pedigree you can’t convince the crowd.

Too late to say anything now. All she could do was whip out her phone and call the homeroom teacher for Grade 12 (Class 1), Gao Feng.

But the line was busy.

Maybe someone was already reporting it.

…

Gao Feng reached the scene in three minutes flat.

The Class 1 lead was a bald man of forty with a long, egg‑shaped face. With hair he’d actually looked decent; without it he somehow came off far fiercer than before.

Not only did students fear him—on crosswalks, one or two times out of ten even the inspectors would call him over to check his papers.

Parting the crowd, Gao Feng first saw a pool of blood on the floor.

It had been left by that broken‑legged student, “Monthly‑Fee‑Group 694936135 Li Jinhao.”

Across the street from No. 1 stood the Third Hospital. With an injury that severe, they weren’t going to sit and call for an ambulance. Before Gao arrived, classmates had already carried him over. At this point the process would be waiting for the Inspectorate.

Trouble.

Gao Feng frowned.

That went without saying.

It wasn’t some on‑campus scuffle just involving students. Even if the students didn’t call it in, the owner or bystanders would.

“Teacher Gao!”

“Teacher Gao, finally!”

“Gao Feng! What are you teaching your students!”

“Teacher Gao, that transfer student has to be expelled…”

The moment they saw him, the crowd swarmed him with chatter. A female teacher from his grade was among them, righteously indignant for the injured student.

You’ve got a bone to pick and you don’t take it to the culprits—you bring it to me?

Gao raised a brow and peered through gaps in the crowd, spotting two parties seated in a corner on the first floor.

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One was obviously the student council. Tang Min sat with them, and a dozen or so students ringed Zhou Ji, all looking at the other side with wary eyes.

Opposite them sat two girls.

Chen Jing.

And a white head of hair with her back to him—no need to ask, it was the transfer student.

What was interesting was that, judging from the dishes on the table and the way her shoulders moved, the kid was eating noodles.

Noodles?

Gao stared, dumbfounded.

A senior causes this big a mess, and instead of reflecting or showing fear, she’s thinking about filling her stomach?

Then again, laid out like this, the scene had a certain comic air…

There were clearly more on the left, and most were boys, yet they looked deeply wary of the two on the right.

No “talk big after losing a fight” routine you’d expect, not even quiet whispering in the ranks.

Had they… chickened out?

Beaten into fear?

Surely not?

Gao had been teaching for over a decade; a turn of thought and he grasped it—there was something off about Bai Xiang’s sword‑dao level.

Who was Zhou Ji?

He’d entered the Dao in the first semester of his second year. His body had been nourished for close to a year; strength and reaction were already above ordinary standards. He was one of No. 1’s key candidates for next year’s Big Exam.

Barring surprises, a shoo‑in for Qizhou University’s Sword Institute. Even if the word was he hadn’t used a sword—how could he lose to Bai Xiang?

Thoughts ticking, Gao hand‑waved a bit and pushed through the crowd.

Bai Xiang was indeed eating noodles—but while eating, she was also reviewing the fight.

She replayed her first sword‑swat, then the dodge past the chair and the leg‑break, then dropping two and finally forcing Zhou Ji to act. Every clip, detail, and vector of force ran through her head like a film.

I could have countered on the second punch.

But at that point I didn’t yet know how to modulate my intake of force more finely.

Chen Jing said Zhou Ji entered about a year ago; he should be at “Nurture the Spirit,” which explains his power.

Among No. 1’s sword students, he wasn’t weak.

But I could clearly feel that his control over his body was far worse than mine…

Her thoughts drifted, and she glanced down at her chest.

She had, after all, changed bodies.

Normally, someone in her situation wouldn’t adapt this fast.

Say the person wore glasses. When they habitually lifted a hand to push them up, they’d be thrown off—the wrist would bump into new obstacles halfway there.

But her?

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Every motion naturally avoided those obstacles, and every power posture had been adjusted to perfection.

That was “Know the Self.”

Mind and flesh, a seamless whole.

While Bai Xiang thought, Chen Jing sat across from her watching her eat.

With such a mess, and a pack of “enemies” across the aisle glaring, Chen Jing, for one, couldn’t get a bite down.

She really admired Bai Xiang. Had she already figured out how she was going to explain this?

Gao’s arrival was a rescue for Chen Jing. She sprang up to call out “Teacher,” pulling Bai Xiang out of her thoughts as well.

“They’ve already told me the gist.”

Gao Feng came in with full mentor posture, waved a hand at Zhou Ji’s group. “Split into a few groups and take Zhou Ji across to the hospital.”

“The rest of you, disperse—especially you, Tang Min… why aren’t you back at school!”

“Teacher Gao.”

Zhou Ji frowned and looked at the white‑haired girl opposite. “What about her?”

Zhou Ji knew he and Bai Xiang were enemies now.

That kick had been anything but light. Afraid she’d stomp and break his post leg, he’d reflexively broken into a cold sweat and gone limp to shed the force—then took a brutal boot to the gut.

And she’d stepped on his face.

He’d been too dazed with pain to notice. Only after they helped him up did others tell him.

“Why are you worrying about that?”

Gao Feng, a touch impatient, tried to put some threat in his tone.

“No can do, sir.” Zhou Ji leaned aside. “I was insulted for no reason. That won’t do. I’m waiting here for my dad.”

He wasn’t opposed to going to the hospital; he was reasonable enough to see that if he’d lost, Bai Xiang must have hidden her sword‑dao level—she must have entered early like him. He’d sooner die than believe a fresh initiate could be that strong.

Which meant the school would try to paper things over to keep a newly discovered initiate on their side.

He figured that was why Bai Xiang was so brazen—why she dared step on his face in public and humiliate him like that.

A school is a little kingdom.

No. 1 had deep backing. If the powers that be dug in—keeping the students penned up and turning away all interviews and inquiries—even his connections wouldn’t reverse it.

So he deliberately refused the hospital and waited here for Gao Feng, planning to use his background to pressure him.

As long as he didn’t budge and these people refused to go back to school to give statements, once the Inspectorate arrived the school would be on the back foot.

…Slick bastard!

Gao’s eyes bulged.

He knew exactly what Zhou Ji was doing—and had little recourse.

First, Zhou wasn’t his student. Second, Zhou was a victim.

What could he do?

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Drag him away?

It wasn’t even his mess. Pull that and the Qingya faction would tear him apart.

Best to wash my hands of this…

Gao pulled out his phone to call No. 1’s principal, Zhang Longze.

You brought in the connection and dumped the transfer on me. You go smooth this over—don’t count on me.

But sirens cut him off. Tires screeched outside. Students parted of their own accord, and a man and a woman in black overcoats—Inspectorate police—walked in.

“Who called this in?”

The man had a square face; the woman was petite with a cutting look. The former scanned the crowd as he asked, and a bespectacled boy raised a trembling hand and described what had happened.

No one dared interrupt.

This was the Inspectorate.

The Inspectorate served the imperial house. Cross them and a slap would be getting off light.

“A girl?”

“And one against five?”

The male inspector, Han Li, froze when he’d heard the account.

He looked at Zhou Ji and the others inside, then at Bai Xiang and Chen Jing on the other side, amazement in his eyes.

“What’s with all the chatter!”

His partner, Zhao Xiaoqin, had no patience. She pulled out a pair of “silver bracelets” and strode toward Bai Xiang.

“Wait—”

Gao knew Zhao Xiaoqin. He hurried up to stop her.

“Inspector Zhao, it’s not actually that serious…”

“How is it not serious?”

Zhao glared, her right hand going straight to her belt.

“Teacher Gao, you heard the student. Was he lying?”

“I’m not saying he lied, just—”

“Then that settles it!” Zhao sneered. “We’re just following regulations, and you want to block that? Does No. 1 look down on the imperial rules?”

At that, Gao’s face turned very ugly.

A hat that big—who in the entire Chilong Circuit, the whole Great Yu, would dare wear it?

He already regretted it.

Should’ve stayed in the cafeteria…

Pushing past Gao Feng, Zhao Xiaoqin found another block in front of her—a twin‑ponytailed girl.

“It’s not Bai Xiang’s fault!”

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Chen Jing thought she had to be insane, doing something this crazy.

“They mocked me and insulted me—that’s why she couldn’t stand it and stepped in!”

“Is that so…” Zhao narrowed her eyes.

“It’s true!”

Chen Jing replayed the scene in her head and tried to make her eyes look a little more sincere.

She felt the whole thing really was her fault. Not helping Bai Xiang in the middle was bad enough—if she didn’t even dare to testify, how could she face being her friend?

But looking up made things worse: she noticed Zhao Xiaoqin exchange a glance with Zhou Ji across the way—and Zhao even gave him a nod.

Th‑they’re in this together?

Chen Jing’s scalp prickled.

Zhou Ji’s family…

Qingya Sword Dao…

She’d said before that if you came out of a sword institute without luck you became a coach or security—but if luck went your way?

The Chilong Army!

The Inspectorate!

This woman was Qingya faction?

Then stepping out like this was… walking into the net!

“Then you can come along too!”

Sure enough, Zhao grabbed her hand, ready to cuff her.

Gao beside them opened his mouth, but in the end said nothing.

Chen Jing went rigid. She felt completely done for, mind filled with cases dragged off to Inspectorate cells.

Even the innocent shed a skin coming out!

As the cold handcuffs were about to kiss her wrist, a sword scabbard flicked in between.

“You dare resist—arrest…?”

Zhao’s gaze slid along the scabbard to Bai Xiang’s face, her voice tight with reined‑in excitement.

“This isn’t resisting.”

Using her other hand to pull a napkin and wipe her mouth, Bai Xiang finally spoke again.

But not to the person in front of her.

In front of Zhao Xiaoqin, Chen Jing, Gao Feng, Zhou Ji, Tang Min, and the rest, Bai Xiang turned half around to face the square‑faced inspector.

“I’d like to file a report.”

“Someone poisoned the water in my thermos.”