“Madam, it’s time to get up.”
The sun had climbed three hands-widths high, and the glazed tile eaves glistened with pearly dew. The maidservant stood before the tightly closed door and knocked three times, but only then did sounds of rustling emerge from inside the room.
It was as if someone had rolled up in the blanket on the bed and tumbled twice, then flopped back down onto the mattress, motionless. Then came a discontented, muffled voice, dull and drowsy.
“Just another half-quarter hour, and… don’t call me that.”
The same lazy bedtime excuse every time.
Jingxi, the maidservant, sighed helplessly. She was about to call again when a black shadow nimbly leapt down from a nearby tree. The young man walked to the door and revealed an expressionless face, his tone completely flat and emotionless.
“Young Miss, there is only a quarter hour left until the final match of the Heavenly Star Ranking begins.”
Silence filled the room for a few seconds.
This time the voice that emerged was much more alert, accompanied by the faint sound of fabric rustling.
“Oh, what does that have to do with me?”
Jingxi reminded softly, “Madam, the final match is the Sword Sovereign’s competition.”
The female voice in the room let out a light hum. “Let him compete, it has nothing to do with me. I never said I’d go watch. Don’t call me.”
After speaking, the room fell silent again, and Jingxi frowned in difficulty.
The black-clad youth beside her remained calm, composed and patient, standing with his sword held before him.
“Ma—”
The door suddenly flew open. Jingxi’s words stopped short as she looked at the young woman standing there. Her face was as fair and cold as the moon itself. Her eyes sparkled like stars, her dense eyelashes quivering lightly, but her complexion bore a sickly paleness, and a faint medicinal scent wafted from her body.
However, a brilliant red dress she wore suppressed this faint unwellness and made her skin appear whiter than snow. Perhaps because she had risen hastily, her hair and collar were somewhat messy.
Jingxi smiled warmly. “Madam, there is still time. Let me fix your hair for you.”
Sang Ying turned away abruptly, her small face icy cold. “Who said I wanted to watch the match? The talismans at home have run out. I need to go buy some urgently.”
After walking a few steps and before leaving the courtyard, Sang Ying turned back to the black-clad youth following behind her—Lengmian, a fitting name, since it meant “cold-face.” “Lengmian, you don’t need to follow me today. Stay home.”
Lengmian held his sword and spoke calmly. “The competition venue is at Ten-Thousand-Ice Valley, two thousand li away. Only I can get there within a quarter hour.”
Sang Ying: ?
“It’s always been on Minghua Mountain. How did it suddenly move to such a remote place as Ten-Thousand-Ice Valley?”
Lengmian remained calm. “A month ago, the Sword Sovereign accidentally destroyed a peak nearby during a match. Since then, any competition involving the Sword Sovereign has been held at Ten-Thousand-Ice Valley.”
Sang Ying drew a sharp breath. “…How much did it cost to compensate?”
“One hundred thousand spirit stones.”
Sang Ying gritted her teeth. “What a spendthrift! Why did he use so much force? Don’t you know how hard it is to make money these days? Do you know how difficult employment is? Half the streets are full of sword cultivators earning no money and driving rideshare for sects…”
Lengmian said, “Over this past month, the Sword Sovereign has already earned back the spirit stones he paid in compensation.”
Sang Ying said, “Striving to win is human nature.”
After all, the Heavenly Ranking was the true cultivation world’s ranking by actual strength, while the Heavenly Star Ranking had no cultivation level or race restrictions but was limited by age. Among those under fifty years old, ranked by strength within that age bracket, there were fifty spots in total.
Those who secured positions on it were all geniuses of the cultivation world, people who could become tyrants of one region in the cultivation realm in the future.
But…
Sang Ying felt somewhat puzzled. “How come I didn’t know about something that happened a month ago? I have no memory of it at all.”
Lengmian trod on sword light. “Young Miss was ill and asleep for two days at that time. By the time you woke up, the Sword Sovereign had already handled everything.”
Lengmian extended his sleeve to Sang Ying. Sang Ying grabbed it, lost in thought. That time, it seemed like she had exhausted too much spiritual power drawing talismans and fallen asleep? Never mind, it wasn’t important.
She narrowed her eyes, her tone sinister. “So, to avoid my anger, you also helped him hide it from me. Knowing but not reporting it, is that right?”
“No. This time I took payment.”
Lengmian said expressionlessly, “The Sword Sovereign paid me far too much.”
“…”
Sang Ying ground her teeth. “Spineless turncoat! [1]no backbone (mei guqi, 沒骨氣) (Idiom), lacking the integrity or resolve to stay loyal jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3243513_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3243513_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], }); So easily bought off with a few spirit stones.”
Lengmian calmly pulled a pouch of spirit stones from his storage ring. “You get six, I get four.”
Sang Ying patted his shoulder approvingly. “Lengmian, your tactics for infiltrating the enemy ranks are getting more and more sophisticated!”
Before her hand could touch his shoulder, Lengmian happened to turn away to look into the distance, pointing to a dark mass far ahead. “Young Miss, that over there is the competition venue.”
Sang Ying instinctively looked as well, but there were far too many spectators, and from this angle she couldn’t see the arena clearly.
Even from so far away, she could hear cheering. Many cultivators spontaneously shouted in unison. But the majority were young, beautiful female cultivators, who made up the bulk of the crowd, all shouting the same name.
“Qingyu Sword Sovereign!”
This session’s most promising candidate to win first place in the Heavenly Star Ranking, the direct disciple of the former sect master of the number one sect in the cultivation world, Wuwenzong, a demon cultivator prodigy of unparalleled talent in recent years.
Qingyu Sword Sovereign, Xie Lingyu.
Also… her Daoist companion of three years of marriage.
Wait, wasn’t it two years, ten months, and eight days? Or was it nine days? Or ten days?
Sang Ying counted on her fingers while Lengmian piloted the sword light and descended to an empty area around the arena’s perimeter. The cold of Ten-Thousand-Ice Valley surged up at once, and she couldn’t help but sneeze, covering her reddened nose tip.
Lengmian took out from his storage ring a white feathered crepe fox-fur cape that Jingxi had stuffed to him before departure, as well as a steaming food box, and handed them to her.
He also reminded her, “This place is bitterly cold. Staying too long risks cold qi entering the body. Stay at most two hours, and I will bring you back.”
“Young Miss, did you hear that?”
Sang Ying’s fair small face was buried in the fox fur, but her clear, bright eyes kept wandering far away. While gnawing on a bun, she replied impatiently and unclearly, “Yes, yes, I heard it. Both ears heard it.”
“Lengmian, isn’t this too far away? The announcer is like a bird, oh, the bird is talking. I think it’s starting? This is awful, I can’t see anything at all.”
“Young Miss wasn’t just saying a few days ago that you had no interest in watching the matches?”
Lengmian stood with sword in hand, glancing at her lightly. “If we were any closer, wouldn’t the Sword Sovereign see Young Miss? How would you explain it then? Went out to buy talismans and got lost two thousand li away at Ten-Thousand-Ice Valley?”
Sang Ying: “…”
Lengmian seemed to sigh lightly, “Why won’t Young Miss be more honest? Your sword tassel has been ready for quite some time now, hasn’t it?”
“…”
Sang Ying ate the hot bun in one bite and lowered her head to dig through her talismans. “Mind your own business. I have my own pace.”
“According to my plan, I should have been a woman learned in poetry and prose, beloved by thousands of young men in Qinghe Town, with all of Qinghe Town scrambling for my merchandise. But there’s been a small problem with the plan. Now I’m just a very full woman.”
Sang Ying patted her chest. “Burp.”
Lengmian said, “I told you to eat slower. Only Songbiao would compete with you for food.”
She gathered spiritual power and ran her brush tip through it, quickly drawing two disguise talismans. Sang Ying slapped one onto Lengmian’s forehead.
The black-clad young man’s appearance rippled like water, and in the blink of an eye, he had transformed into a completely unfamiliar young man’s face. His stature had also grown taller, becoming a young man’s build.
Sang Ying applied one to herself, then was about to transform when she thought of something and suddenly paused. Then she changed her mind and switched to a different face.
Lengmian put away his distinctive sword and turned his head to face, at close range, a face heavily made up with thick red and purple makeup, caked with what looked like three catties of powder, as ghastly white as a ghost procuress.
The young man instinctively stepped back half a step. His usually unruffled expression cracked for the first time, shock slowly shattering across his eyes.
“Young Miss, you…”
Sang Ying watched his reaction and nodded in satisfaction. She dramatically waved her powder-scented pink handkerchief, affected coquettishly, her tone exaggerated: “Oh my, young master, why do you stare at this humble girl so intently? This humble girl is so embarrassed~”
Lengmian: “…”
Young Miss, as long as you’re happy.
“Big brother, could you lower yourself just a little? Your topknot is blocking me.”
A shoulder poke interrupted a youth who had been staring intently at the arena. Annoyed, he frowned and turned around.
A corpse-pale face crashed into view.
A fraction of a second later, the young man let out a startled cry, his face turning pale with fright, and he fled screaming that there was a demon ghost.
Sang Ying watched the person disappear. Hmm… was it really that terrifying? She felt it was rather good. Didn’t she think her makeup was quite artistic?
The space in front had cleared. The crowd had a gap. Sang Ying was about to stand on tiptoe to look when the spectator in front, drawn by the young man’s shout, just happened to turn around.
They locked eyes.
Sang Ying blinked innocently, a bit of powder falling from her lashes.
A few seconds later, a small section of the spectator seating in one corner erupted in successive shrieks, but mixed in with the cheering all around the venue, it wasn’t very noticeable.
After a commotion and flight, before Sang Ying knew it, she had been separated from Lengmian and squeezed to the very front, pressed against the protective barrier railing.
Her vision opened up. Sang Ying raised her head and saw at a glance the white-clad young man figure in the air. His sword moves were graceful as a startled swan, sinuous as a soaring dragon [2]light as a startled swan, graceful as a swimming dragon (pian ruo you long wan ruo jing hong, 翩若游龍宛若驚鴻) (Metaphor), a classical description of breathtakingly elegant, fluid movement jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3243513_1_2').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3243513_1_2', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });, gracefully resolving his opponent’s techniques, fierce sword qi pushing back the opponent who pressed forward relentlessly.
Compared to what she had seen in the back mountain a few days ago, the sword moves seemed to have become even more refined.
Sang Ying became unusually quiet, her eyes unwavering as she watched silently.
Suddenly, the opponent used escape arts and disappeared. The arena filled with thick smoke, leaving only the young man alone.
Sang Ying furrowed her brow. Her hand unconsciously formed a divination hand seal, sensing the qi carefully. She suddenly opened her eyes and spoke without thinking, “Xie Lingyu, seven paces to your left rear!”
Her voice was very small, and she was in a corner. It was completely drowned out in the noise and chaos of the crowd.
To prevent interference and cheating, the arena had barriers set down by mighty cultivators that isolated it. People inside could not hear sounds from outside, and even telepathic techniques could not be used.
Yet the white-clad young man in mid-air, for some reason, suddenly looked in her direction.
Across the faint smoke, Sang Ying’s eyes unexpectedly met his gaze, and her heart jumped.
However, the young man’s gaze quickly moved away, as if he had only swept past by accident. Then he drew his sword towards his rear left side. This stroke was solid and true. His opponent, who had been planning a sneak attack, was caught off guard and hastily raised a defensive technique.
Sang Ying let out a breath of relief. It seemed he was just locating his opponent.
She was right. With so many people in the arena, how could he possibly see her? Besides, who would dare look twice at her current appearance?
“Found it, the demon ghost is here!”
A sudden commotion erupted behind her. Sang Ying, caught off guard, was suddenly shoved hard by someone next to her. Her body tilted, and she grabbed the railing, a sharp pain shooting through her ankle.
“Demon ghost! This is not a place for you to cause trouble—”
Sang Ying turned around. Along with a nearby young man’s shout, a golden glowing magic tool, the blood drop, came at her with bloodthirsty force.
Her gaze turned fierce in an instant. Her finger tips clenched a demon-breaking talisman, guiding it with spiritual power.
A pale cyan light shot ahead of her first, whistling past her ear. Before her face, like a bamboo leaf floating gently, it silently knocked the magic tool from the air.
The dimmed blood drop fell to the ground and rolled twice. The eyes of every spectator in the arena shifted at once from the center of the arena to this corner.
Silence fell around them. You could have heard a pin drop [3]the sound of a falling needle, no noise (luo zhen wu sheng, 落針無聲) (Idiom), a place so silent that even the tiniest sound would be audible jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3243513_1_3').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3243513_1_3', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });.
The pale cyan sword sheath slowly flew back and landed gently in Sang Ying’s palm.
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