Volume 2, Chapter 4 – Sweeping the Field

“Shenming’s Bai Xiang… is she the adopted daughter Bai Shengju brought home?”

When Bai Xiang gave her name, many in the crowd immediately put it together and realized why she’d come.

Not only that—those who knew the backstory explained it to those who didn’t.

“It’s about tomorrow’s sword match…”

“Pei Jian saw they were down and wanted to kick them—and the others all want a few stomps in too…”

“Too much? That’s how small dojos are… you grab the spotlight to get famous. If you don’t, who’ll hand their disciples to you?”

“No disciples, no money; no money, no name—what dojo are you running on just one sword…!”

With the gate broken, the scene and chatter outside were plain for Pei Jian to see.

He even saw a cameraman at the front, under a bespectacled reporter’s direction, zooming in for a close‑up of the shattered gate!

Such loss of composure… utterly without grace!

A mere junior!

Outrageous!

Years of breath‑nurturing teetered; Pei Jian felt hot blood rush to his head. Pointing at Bai Xiang, he barked, “Go… throw her out of here!!”

Bai Xiang’s looks and figure were striking, and some senior disciples in the yard had long been itching to move. With the Dao Lord’s order, they surged in a dozen strong, brandishing wooden swords, planning to “educate” the cool, pretty girl with blunt force first.

The lead one even let his eyes rake over the waist the skintight suit hugged and chuckled, “Since you’re here, little sister, don’t leave—try our special ‘Mingyu Frost’?”

The smile froze on his face before the words had finished.

Because Bai Xiang lifted her right hand—and took the blade in her grip.

One sword flashed, like a white sheet ripped from its sheath; against that pale light, even the world dimmed, and everyone focused on the scene heard a sharp hum in their ears.

“Ah!”

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“Whoa…!”

Bai Xiang used “sword‑vibration,” yet never moved a step; invisible sword Qi rippled out around her on its own, not only blasting the encircling disciples away but carving deep, sudden gouges into the concrete all around.

The gale howled!

Sword Qi whirled like a force‑eight gale; strands of blade‑Qi threaded the storm and, with precision, skimmed past the first wave of disciples—shearing off hands and legs at the root and dropping them to the ground like limbless sticks.

“My hand… my leg…!”

“My leg’s gone? Waaah~~~”

“You—!”

Seeing it, Pei Jian’s eyes went blood‑red, and he roared, “How vicious you are!”

“Dao Lord Pei already made his choice—why feel bad about a little medicine money?” Bai Xiang walked toward him, sword in hand, voice cold. “If Dao Lord Pei gets what he wants, with newfound favor, wouldn’t it be easy enough to fit them with cybernetic limbs?”

How did she see through that?

A cold sweat burst from Pei Jian; the hot blood in his chest flashed to ice, and his mind began to clear.

Looking again at the bout just now—those “sword auras” weren’t anything average disciples could wield. At minimum she’d forged her blade; perhaps near Condensing the Aspect, able to draw on the sword’s Demon Pool for demonic power at least a little!

Shenming’s Bai Xiang… how could someone her age be this strong?

Pei Jian himself was only at Divine Union, and who knew if he’d ever touch full Six Harmonies in this life. Having tasted Bai Xiang’s power, he was already thinking of backing down—of finding a way to defuse this.

“I, Pei Jian, concede!” he said bluntly. His whole frame seemed to shrink; shoulders hunched, head slightly bowed. “Please, young lady, stay your hand!”

Bai Xiang halted, lifted her eyes to meet his, and said, “If our places were reversed—what would Dao Lord Pei choose?”

“This…”

Pei Jian had no answer.

Was that even a question?

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He wasn’t a child; why would he show a woman’s softness?

On the path, when enmity forms, you stomp your foe to death if you get the chance.

Otherwise you end up like Bai Shengju—killing the old but sparing the young—and the situation turns against you.

He wasn’t that stupid!

But how could he say it out loud?

“I won’t put Dao Lord Pei on the spot.”

Bai Xiang raised her sword upright before her; from the front, that bright face was split by the blade into left and right halves.

“A step back will do.”

Boom!

With that, the earlier storm returned. Ferocious sword Qi whirled around her; the blast sent Bai Xiang’s ponytail flying!

All saw it clearly: “sword auras” gathered out of nowhere at her side; in daylight they formed a cicada‑demon phantom—the gorgeous, transparent wings beating at high speed—as the blade gave forth “Shenming”!

Boom!

For the disciples staring from close range, heaven and earth seemed to change color in that instant.

All scenery shrank to a pin; the whole world was cicada song—as if dragged from September back into the fretful height of summer!

“…” Pei Jian watched that power mass, then glanced back at the “Seat Hall” behind him.

The Seat Hall is the largest face of nearly every dojo.

Huanxi Sword Dao was the same: not only were the ancestors’ tablets enshrined there, but a “dojo plaque” hung over the lintel—characters inscribed in his grandfather’s day.

She… she wants me to “step back”?

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Didn’t that mean she intended…

Pei Jian didn’t want to yield!

How could he! How dare he!

But Bai Xiang said nothing—only condensed more and more Qi, tighter and tighter.

At last the storm abated; all sword Qi condensed onto “Feixiang Heaven,” while that “Shenming” grew louder and grander—clear even out on the street!

To stand before such a blade—putting your body between that edge and the Seat Hall—took real courage.

Pei Jian lasted a full five seconds, then staggered aside and fell—the true self within unable to withstand mortal terror, instinct driving him to flee.

The instant he hit the ground, Bai Xiang struck.

Left arm lifting, right hand drove the blade in a vertical cut forward. A fine line appeared at her feet and shot straight for the Seat Hall.

Pei Jian lay there in despair—but his younger son, Pei Xuan, suddenly roared, “You dare!”

Face flushing, he charged—only to freeze in place, man and sword alike.

“Xuan’er—!!!”

Pei Jian cried out in anguish.

He saw it: that fine line passed straight through Pei Xuan, and in a blink split the whole Seat Hall in two; even the plaque fell in halves, the cut between smooth as glass!

“Xuan’er… Xuan’er…!?”

Pei Jian forgot the hall; he crawled over to clutch his son, patting frantically at his face.

“Father! Father! I’m fine!”

Pei Xuan truly was unhurt—and amazed to still be alive. He lifted his sword to look; only half the blade remained.

I lived through that?

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Did the strike curve around me?

While the youth was still baffled, Pei Jian snapped to it and pulled him to his knees.

“Our thanks, young lady—!”

They bowed to the floor. When they rose, Bai Xiang was just stepping over the threshold; her ponytail flicked as she vanished.

Sigh…

Pei Jian let out a breath.

He knew that after such a blow, Huanxi Sword Dao’s reputation would plunge.

But he still had hope.

After the slump, he set his gaze on his beloved son.

What was lost and found changed his heart; revenge on Bai Xiang was already far from his mind. He only wished to pour everything into the boy, and be content watching him grow.

Pei Jian could never have imagined that this was only the beginning.

Half an hour later on Beichen Road, a piercing cry rang from the Swift Rain Sword Dao dojo; then a huge crash and screams—the Swift Rain Seat Hall collapsed amid dust!

Forty minutes after that, on East Wharf Road, at Flying Feather Sword Dao, the surrounding blocks also heard an “autumn cicada’s cry.” Onlookers gathered; they not only saw Flying Feather’s Seat Hall cleaved in two, but watched Dao Lord Jiang Qian hurled limbless over the wall to flop in the street like a dead dog.

And White Crane Sword Dao… Qinghe Sword Dao… Autumn Fire Sword Dao… Severing Sky Sword Dao…

Through the whole morning and into midday, Bai Xiang, alone with one sword, swept through Chilong—cutting and crushing, she tore down the Seat Halls of seven dojos in a breath—and the whole operation was cleanly filmed by the crew.

At the end, standing before the ruins of Severing Sky’s dojo, she faced the camera, wiping her blade as she said, “I hope this lesson sticks with some people.”

“Provoke Shenming.”

“There’s only one end—ruin.”