Jiang Jianxin’s eyes widened as Lin Xin’an continued speaking at an unhurried pace:
“Just as you’ve figured, the TV Station’s surveillance methods are incredibly powerful.
It has a special way of acquiring information: everyone who registers on its platform must use their real name.
Once you log in, it’s like establishing a connection with it.”
“It can read all the information about every person who’s registered—their identity, abilities, and experiences.
It can even locate and monitor them.”
Lin Xin’an looked at Jiang Jianxin.
“If I’m not mistaken, you’ve already logged in, haven’t you?”
“That sword strike of yours from before, covering a ten-li radius and shaking the very earth—do you think the TV Station won’t send people after you?
To deepen their mental control until you’re nothing more than their puppet?”
Jiang Jianxin didn’t speak, because she heard footsteps approaching the door.
They were faint, but in the silent hallway, they were exceptionally clear—like the footsteps of the Death God himself.
TAP…
TAP…
TAP…
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK…
“Sob, sob…
Is anyone home?”
It was the voice of a young, innocent-sounding girl, thick with the sound of tears.
“Miss, I know you’re home.
Can you open the door?”
The girl outside spoke in a small voice, but it was so full of grievance that it would easily stir pity in anyone’s heart.
“My mother is dead…
and my daddy was eaten…
Miss, I’m so scared…
Sob, sob, sob…”
Jiang Jianxin, sitting on the table, pursed her lips and lifted the gleaming Tang Guang Sword with one hand.
“Sob, sob…”
“Sob, sob…”
The little girl outside was still crying, her sobs growing louder and more pitifully aggrieved.
Just as Jiang Jianxin was about to stand up, Lin Xin’an pressed down on her sword hand and pointed under the table.
Her old-fashioned table was covered with a long tablecloth.
It was pitch-black underneath, and the cloth was large enough to hide a person.
“Get under there.
Don’t come out until you hear me call for you,” Lin Xin’an whispered.
Jiang Jianxin glanced at him.
“Why should I trust you?”
Lin Xin’an smiled, a teasing light in his eyes.
“Because the TV Station is filled with Talent Users from the Bright Camp, and they specialize in Spiritual Attacks and control.”
“You can’t even resist my Mind Reading Technique.
Do you really think you can handle someone sent by the TV Station?”
Jiang Jianxin took a deep breath.
‘He’s right.’ From what she recalled of her childhood diary, this Little Sword Venerate, who had entered the Sword Sect at age four, had focused her cultivation primarily on Body Training and practical swordsmanship.
‘As for her Primordial Spirit, she had once stated outright that it wasn’t a mandatory subject for a Sword Master; it was something more suited for those in Alchemy Cultivation or talisman cultivators to practice.’
‘The main reason she had become a Sword Master at eleven was her unwavering dedication to the Sword Dao.
She had never spared a single moment for these non-essential disciplines.’
‘Now that the Bright Camp’s surveillance had tracked her down and cornered her at home, if she couldn’t finish her opponent with a single strike, defeat was certain.’
She glanced at her Tang Guang Sword, but in the end, she let it transform back into a Little Paper Sword and hid with it under the table.
“Sob, sob…”
“Sob, sob…”
BANG—BANG—BANG—
The whimpering continued, but at some point, it had morphed into fierce knocking.
Lin Xin’an, perfectly calm and composed, sat beside the table slurping instant noodles.
He even sniffled once from the hot steam.
After a little while longer, the knocking gradually faded.
Through a gap in the tablecloth, Jiang Jianxin saw the peephole on her door begin to glow red.
It gradually morphed into a giant, crimson eyeball embedded in the door.
The eyeball swiveled around, carefully scanning the room—up, down, left, and right.
Jiang Jianxin averted her gaze and stayed quiet under the table, feeling the silent, piercing scrutiny that felt as sharp as a blade’s edge.
After scanning the room fruitlessly, the red eyeball fixed its gaze on Lin Xin’an, who was busy slurping his noodles.
It rolled its iris and shrieked in a sharp, piercing voice:
“Hypnotist!
Why is it you, you damn pest?”
“Where is she?!
Where is she?!
Where is she hiding!”
Lin Xin’an turned his head, his dark eyes filled with amusement as he met the red eyeball’s gaze.
“If you can’t find her, then screw off and go fix your tracking.
Don’t bother me while I’m eating.”
The red eyeball blinked.
With a flash of red light, it reverted to its original form as a peephole.
Silence returned to the room.
Just as Jiang Jianxin started to shift, about to crawl out from under the table, Lin Xin’an stuck out a foot to block her.
‘Oh, right.’ Jiang Jianxin suddenly remembered Lin Xin’an had told her not to come out until he called.
So, she crouched back down and remained still.
For a time, the only sound in the room was Lin Xin’an slurping his noodles.
PFFT—
After a wait of about twenty minutes, the peephole on the door suddenly vanished, leaving behind an empty hole.
Lin Xin’an swallowed the mouthful of noodles in his mouth, then called out slowly:
“All clear.
You can come out.”
Jiang Jianxin lifted the tablecloth and crawled out from under the table.
She looked at the empty hole in the door and asked in astonishment:
“Just now, that was…?”
“It didn’t leave.
It just disguised itself and kept waiting.
When you’re fighting the Bright Camp, you have to be extra cunning,” Lin Xin’an said, daintily wiping his mouth.
The daylight illuminated his long eyelashes, casting him in an enigmatic light.
Jiang Jianxin glanced at the empty hole, then back at the calm and composed Lin Xin’an.
‘For a moment, she couldn’t tell which of them was more cunning.’
The long, twenty-minute wait had made her legs go numb from crouching.
She sat down on a chair and took a deep breath.
Beside her, Lin Xin’an placed his empty instant noodle container on top of nine other empty ones, stacking it into a tall tower.
Then he looked at her and said with a grin:
“So?
Am I reliable or what?”
Jiang Jianxin shot him a wary glance, considered it carefully, and finally relented.
“If you want to come with me, then fine.”
‘The unknown Superpower World, the Bright Camp with its endless schemes and diverse methods…’
‘She was just a simple Sword Master.
It was entirely possible she could get tripped up by these people’s plotting.’
‘Although Lin Xin’an wasn’t purely good-natured either, at least for now, his intentions seemed benevolent.’
Lin Xin’an looked very pleased.
He suggested,
“That’s great!
But since the TV Station just sent someone, this place isn’t safe anymore.
Grab your diaries, and let’s find a new spot.”
Jiang Jianxin nodded and went into her room to find the diaries.
The room was as she had left it.
Four diaries sat quietly in a cardboard box, the topmost one being the pink, Peppa Pig-themed Sword Master’s Diary, which lay open.
Each of her four childhood diaries was very thick.
How to carry them was going to be a problem.
‘She couldn’t just carry them in her arms the whole time, could she?’
Just as Jiang Jianxin was frowning in vexation, the Little Paper Sword flew out of her pocket.
It hovered next to the four diaries and, with a HUM, sucked all four of them inside itself.
Jiang Jianxin’s eyes lit up.
‘She remembered now.
Sword Cultivators treated their swords like their wives, and the Little Sword Venerate had once created a Sword Intent Space within her Tang Guang Sword.’
‘The space wasn’t large, only about three cubic meters, and it was piled with medicinal agents and talisman stones for maintaining Tang Guang, as well as beautiful sheaths.’
‘Though it was filled with many things, it wasn’t completely full.
There was still some room left—just enough for four diaries.’