Volume 2, Chapter 14 – Taking the Stage

Because road restrictions had been put in place ahead of time, every intersection on their route had been switched to red lights. From Shenming Sword Dao’s Nanping branch road to Chihuan Road in the central district, it didn’t take long at all—just over twenty minutes and they were there.

After getting out of the car, Bai Shengju finally looked at Bai Xiang and patted her shoulder twice.

Unlike the second car, where the discussion had been heated, no one in the first car had spoken the entire way.

Bai Shengju had sat with his eyes closed, resting.

Bai Xiang had watched the scenery outside the window.

Bai Lianzhou had kept his gaze straight ahead.

Only Bai Guanshan kept looking at one and then the other. He had a bellyful of opinions about Bai Xiang’s ruthless move just now, but no idea how to put them into words.

“Big Brother.” Bai Lianzhou tugged on Bai Guanshan. “Come, there’s something I want to say to you.”

The two of them deliberately fell a little behind, letting Bai Shengju and Bai Xiang walk in front, facing the thickest crush of people and cameras.

There really were a lot of people today.

Walking along the red carpet toward Jinhua Sword Dao Hall, Bai Xiang’s gaze passed over the wall of security and fixed on the mass of media reporters jostling together.

Beyond the crowd, she also saw some parents bringing their children, and the children weren’t carrying schoolbags.

Those must be…

She took out her phone for a look, and sure enough, the morning broadcast notification said that starting this morning, the entire Chilong Circuit was taking a public holiday for the day.

They were already this eager to show off their “finished product” to the public?

Bai Xiang herself was focused more on the upcoming duel, but others didn’t necessarily see it that way.

“Miss Bai, there are rumors outside saying you’ll be the one to go up and face Dao Lord Liu in the duel. Is that true?”

“Miss Bai, many people are questioning how you could have defeated seven Daos in a row at the age of seventeen. Was yesterday’s live text report real? Could you tell everyone the details of what happened?”

These were reporters who hadn’t managed to build connections early and hadn’t even dared go to the Bai family dojo. Now they were clinging to the only chance they had.

“Who are you, huh? Hey, who are you?” An excited young man with glasses shrieked from within the crowd. “What are you! You think you’re worthy of riding on Senior Sister Chai’s name? Go to hell already, you hear me?”

He’d had a lot of people around him at first, but when they heard what he was shouting, quite a few shuffled away to the side, eager to draw a line between themselves and him.

Honestly… after yesterday’s live text and a full night of fermenting, most people had already come to a simple conclusion: that Bai Xiang truly was more gifted than the much-hyped “Senior Sister Chai,” Chai Xuan.

Chai Xuan had indeed won plenty of matches at the national Sword Dao bouts, and her strong image had sunk deep into people’s hearts. But from Forge the Sword to Condensing the Aspect, the gap in between was far too huge.

Forge the Sword, Visualization, Divine Union, Condensing the Aspect.

There were two whole realms in between.

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Never mind that some people thought those were just “minor realms within minor realms”—in most people’s eyes, and in terms of publicity’s direction, they were a chasm an ordinary person wouldn’t cross in a lifetime.

With a small Sword Dao sect, a small dojo, no secret arts and no legacy, you could live your whole life and never cross into Condensing the Aspect.

So to many people, what Bai Xiang had wasn’t “talent” anymore.

Something unrealized—that was talent.

You’ve already gone ahead of a whole bunch of old-timers, and this is still called talent?

This is fucking power.

How was Chai Xuan supposed to measure up to that?

This was practically bullying Chai Xuan.

Precisely because of that buffer, when last night’s delayed news finally aired—the interview of Bai Xiang on the steps, where she dropped that “classic line” calling everyone else trash—plenty of people honestly weren’t that angry.

Angry about what?

Great Yu honored and revered martial strength.

She was just telling the truth—what was there to be mad about?

Still, from that devoted Chai fan, you could tell the official notices from the Chilong Army and the Roads Directorate hadn’t gone out yet.

The public still didn’t know about the personal grudge between Chai Xuan and Bai Xiang. Even if they understood in their hearts, they’d still grumble a bit about her “arrogance.”

But Bai Xiang wasn’t worried.

A collective will could be swayed by many factors and end up doing stupid things.

She didn’t need to explain herself. As long as the story flipped in the end, the negative opinion would turn on a dime, and everything she did afterward would be labeled as reasonable.

After the Bai family went inside, there were still plenty of people gathered outside the hall, staring up at the huge screen hung on the plaza-facing wall.

Because the morning broadcast had gone out at the crack of dawn, lots of people had already been up. Those who lived nearby had simply gathered, coming over to join in on the rare excitement.

Bai Xiang didn’t know that some of her acquaintances were among them.

“Don’t shove, don’t shove!”

In the queueing area, her deskmate Chen Jing squeezed back from outside with a bag of snacks, pushing her way from the outer crowd into the inner area, soaked with sweat as she handed the food out to her classmates.

That’s right—because Bai Xiang was indeed a student at No. 1 High, there was no way the school could ignore such a commotion.

So they’d directly used public funds to bus a few classes that had resumed into coming here to watch the duel.

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While she was handing things out, Chen Jing could hear her classmates excitedly talking about the “mysterious Bai Xiang.”

She really was mysterious.

How long had it even been since she transferred in?

They hadn’t even had time to get familiar, and poof—she was a big shot now.

“I still think Classmate Bai is a bit too sharp-edged.”

A short boy with glasses was solemnly analyzing things for the others.

“She reached Condensing the Aspect at seventeen and overtook a lot of minor Dao Lords—that’s incredibly impressive, no doubt about it!”

“But it’s not like there’s no precedent. She doesn’t seem like… like one of those ‘founding monsters’, so her actual value isn’t necessarily that high!”

“In that case she shouldn’t be acting so domineering. She’s just making people dislike her for nothing.”

“You’ll see. If she goes up there, winning is one thing.”

“But if she really loses, just watch how people tear her apart afterward.”

“Cheng Chen!” Chen Jing stuck her head over, fuming. “You’re not allowed to badmouth our classmate!”

“How am I badmouthing her?”

Cheng Chen was the class publicity rep, and being contradicted just made him talk faster. “Hey! Saying I’m badmouthing her? I could say she badmouthed me first!”

“Leaving everything else aside, that word ‘trash’—didn’t that just insult everyone’s older brothers and sisters too?”

He was publicity rep for a reason; his tongue and reflexes were miles ahead of Chen Jing’s. She was so mad she stammered, “You… anyway, you’re just wrong!”

“I think Cheng Chen makes some fair points…”

“Yeah… Classmate Bai’s words were a bit too sharp. My dad said so too, that it’s bad… goes against the innate Doctrine of the Mean…”

The others whispered around them, but more of them were siding with Cheng Chen.

Chen Jing was still fuming when a wave of noise rose from ahead. She and the rest of the class all looked up to see a notice appear on the big screen: they were going to temporarily change the match format.

“They’ve added a chief-seat duel as an appetizer.”

Cheng Chen stared at the big screen and pushed his glasses up.

“As expected. I saw this coming too.”

The next second, though, his eyes—and those of many classmates—went wide as the display flickered and changed.

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On the right side of the screen was still Liu Mengqing in the cheongsam and slip dress from the posters.

On the left, they now showed a girl swordsman in a white-with-black-trim archaic long dress, slender-waisted and sandaled—Bai Xiang herself.

Both figures were shown full-body, turned half to the side, just right to form opposing stances.

Liu Mengqing’s black hair was done up in a married woman’s style, with a little fan tucked in.

Gentle, mature.

Bai Xiang’s white hair was tied up into a high ponytail, fringe parted to reveal her forehead and face.

Still, sharp.

They must have been using some special tech—the figures on the screen even breathed, as if they were truly alive.

“I withdraw everything I said earlier.”

Chen Jing heard the publicity rep speak up again.

“As a class officer, I am willing to do everything in my power to support Classmate Bai Xiang—even go through fire and water for her.”

Just shut up and go already…

Chen Jing opened her mouth, but honestly had no idea what to say.

Inside the hall, Bai Xiang and Bai Shengju had also separated from the rest of the Bai family for the moment. Staff led them to a waiting room and asked if they wanted any makeup or styling done.

“No need.”

Naturally, Bai Shengju wasn’t having any of that.

“It’s about time, isn’t it?”

“Let’s get started early!”

“I still need to do my morning practice!”

The staffer’s smile stiffened a little. Saying she had to go ask permission, she backed out of the room respectfully.

“How did I do on the way here?”

Once she’d gone, Bai Shengju turned his head and asked Bai Xiang, “I didn’t get any of that fancy etiquette wrong, did I?”

Bai Xiang froze for a moment, then felt a touch moved.

This Bai Shengju… he was a seasoned old fox. If Shen Xuelan could see what was going on, how could he not?

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And with his knowledge and experience, even without information channels, it wasn’t hard to guess this was a struggle between the New Affairs faction and the traditionalists behind the scenes. From there, he’d naturally be able to figure out the ultimate aim of Bai Xiang’s actions.

But he hadn’t said a word—he’d gone along with her in deed instead.

That was why Seven-Sword Dao’s challenge could be given a way out, and Tao Xingxuan’s lackey had his life taken at a single draw of her sword.

You bring killing intent and want to lay hands on these things.

If I don’t show you some color, what was the point of a lifetime of sword practice?

“Grandpa did everything right.”

Bai Xiang reached out and pressed down on the back of his aged hand.

“Relax.”

“It should be over very soon.”

“All right, all right…” Bai Shengju laughed, the wrinkles on his face standing out all the more.

Just then, the staffer returned to tell Bai Xiang that the chief-seat bout was ready for her to enter the arena.

After soothing Bai Shengju again, Bai Xiang followed the staffer into a narrow tunnel, and suddenly felt her guide stop, shoving something into her hand.

Earbuds…

She’d barely felt the shape when the space before her lit up and a wave of cheers crashed over her from all directions, engulfing her like a tide.

Straight ahead, a two-meter-tall circular sword platform rose from the center of the hall. The stands on all sides were nearly full, crammed with thirty-four thousand public seats.

Every camera—one after another—was trained on Bai Xiang. In that moment, inside and outside the venue, you could say that across the entire Chilong Circuit, in half the southern region, every single screen in every household bore her face.

She fixed her gaze on the platform and saw a familiar person sitting cross-legged on it in meditation.

Jiang Haojing?

With that three-legged-cat level of swordsmanship, what was she relying on?

“If I were you, I’d listen to what it says first before going up.”

The staffer covered her mouth and murmured beside her, hinting at the earbuds in her hand.

But Bai Xiang simply tossed them away, swept her sleeves aside, and stepped onto the platform on black-silk-clad feet in her sandals.

Her pace was steady.

In passing, she ground that technological trinket to pieces underfoot.