Chapter 108

108. Chapter One Hundred and Eight

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The Bai Xinli spoken of by the Bai couple.

The Bai Xinli she hadn't seen in fifteen years.

The Bai Xinli who had changed her Fate.

The Bai Xinli who could suppress her completely with a single glance.

Too strong, too strong, too strong.

Too wonderful, too wonderful, too wonderful!

She was going to draw her Sword against Bai Xinli!!

Atian knew she was going mad.

A lucid madness.

But what of it?

She was destined from birth to never be a well-behaved, rule-following young lady — so what harm was there in a little madness?

The hilt in her hand shifted from cool to warm, two flushes of red crept quietly onto her cheeks. Lady Bai, who had devoted herself single-mindedly to cultivating Atian into a proper lady, would of course never spend money hiring a martial instructor to teach her — all her fighting moves were rough street brawling, she couldn't even grip her fist properly, let alone hold a weapon.

Yet for a Sword Cultivator, the least necessary thing to learn is how to hold a Sword — something one is born knowing, does it still need to be taught?

Bai Tian was, naturally, no exception.

The moment Bai Xinli said "Junior Sister Bai, if you please," she thrust a Sword in a backhand strike without a second thought. Flames gathered on the pitch-black blade, forming a vortex, and the Sword's tip pointed straight at Bai Xinli's heart.

Her hand holding the Sword was steady, the blade was steady, the thrust precise and forceful, as though she had practiced it thousands upon thousands of times — even the slight sideways spin of the Sword's tip gave one a sense of exquisite, hairsbreadth precision.

This is what it means to be a Sword Cultivator — they are born for the Sword.

However, even among Sword Cultivators, there are the strong and the weak.

This Sword was stopped a few inches short of Bai Xinli's chest by an invisible wall. A moon-white hair ribbon covered his vision and concealed his expression, but Atian guessed that he must look, as he had that day, as pure and lofty as the bright moon hanging in the sky.

Then, she was sent flying by a tremendous force of impact.

Slammed heavily against the wall behind her, Atian slid down to the ground. A tearing pain shot from the web of her right hand; a sticky liquid welled up from it and dripped down along the hilt.

It hurts.

An unprecedented pain swept in from her back, instantly engulfing her five viscera and six bowels, churning them into a mess. Yet she wanted to laugh out loud, her fingers trembling slightly with excitement.

Bai Xinli had not drawn his Sword, he hadn't even moved — his protective Sword Qi alone had already given her a severe warning.

She, to Bai Xinli, was like Song Zhicheng to her — a mayfly trying to shake a tree, not worth mentioning. But偏偏, 偏偏, this was exactly how it should be!

Her Sword Bone was Completed, while Song Zhicheng's had only just begun to sprout.

Bai Xinli had achieved success in Sword Cultivation, while she hadn't even set foot through the door.

Song Zhicheng wanted to become her, and she wanted to become Bai Xinli.

And what was wrong with that?

Bai Tian, trembling, used her Sword to help herself up, shook off the lingering drops of blood from her right hand, and beamed radiantly at Bai Xinli. "Again!"

She thrust another Sword — faster and more cunning than the last — yet the flames still could not pierce the invisible barrier, and once again she crashed heavily to the ground.

"Haha…" She wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her left hand, then raised her Sword again. "Again!"

It went without saying that what awaited her was being sent flying once more.

Atian propped herself up with her Sword, her white undergarment already dotted with crimson plum blossoms. Yet she laughed brightly and said, "Again!"

Again and again she raised her Sword, again and again she was sent flying. In the end, the blood on her hands made it impossible to grip the Sword; she could only let the hilt slip from her palm. Her body was wrapped in searing pain, no longer able to carry out the commands her brain issued. She simply leaned against the wall and gave a shy smile to the gradually approaching Bai Xinli.

As if to prevent her from charging at him again without a care for herself, Bai Xinli extended one hand and gently pressed his index finger against her forehead. His body temperature was slightly cool, out of place in this room filled with flames.

And Atian — after catching her breath for a moment, slowly reached out; her drooping fingertip traced across his chest, leaving a red mark on his moon-white garment.

"Ah, I stabbed you." Atian said with a beaming smile.

Before she lost consciousness, she seemed to hear Bai Xinli sigh.

When Atian woke again, she was still in her own room, only now lying in bed. Everything around her was as usual — only the scorch marks on the walls and ceiling, and the pain across her body, proved that the raging flames had not been a dream.

"You're awake."

Su Ying, sitting by the bed, frowned at the bronze mirror in her hands. She had recently felt a fine line appearing under her eyes and been greatly troubled by it — though given her true age, a face full of wrinkles would be perfectly normal.

"Does it hurt? Good — serves you right, a lesson learned! Challenging Senior Brother, you really don't value your life!"

Su Ying didn't even look up, but that didn't stop her from lecturing.

"Speaking of which, I heard the commotion you caused last night was quite something. Luckily I was on night duty — otherwise the one facing you last night would have been me, and I don't have Senior Brother's ability; I might not have been able to subdue you."

Finding her Life-bound Sword at the head of the bed, Atian reached out to touch it and felt somewhat reassured. Then she felt a chill across her chest, looked down, and discovered she was wearing only a single thin garment.

"Eek!" she shrieked, burrowing into the blankets.

"Eek what eek," Su Ying set down the mirror, her tone laced with irrepressible schadenfreude. "Last night you were wearing this very outfit, clinging to Senior Brother and refusing to let him leave — what's the use of being shy now!"

"A proper young lady must certainly be shy." Atian earnestly countered.

Su Ying was astonished by her professionalism, and with deep emotion handed her a bronze mirror. "Snap out of it! I've never seen a proper young lady who drags a man into a duel in the middle of the night and sets fires!"

Atian rubbed her struck forehead, feeling a little wronged.

"Speaking of which, helping Junior Brothers and Junior Sisters through the agitation brought on by forging the Sword is also one of Senior Brother's duties — you needn't feel guilty about it."

"Agitation?" Atian, who felt no guilt whatsoever, repeated thoughtfully.

"A Sword is a weapon of slaughter — once it leaves its sheath, the desire to fight will inevitably surge. And since your Life-bound Sword is intimately tied to you, being affected is unavoidable."

Su Ying explained seriously.

"A Sword is sharpest the moment it leaves its sheath — that relies on an all-out, forward-charging sharpness of spirit. If we hadn't let you vent that sharpness completely right then, your Sword Heart might have been damaged in the future."

Atian was too embarrassed to tell her Senior Sister that she was this crazy on ordinary days as well, so she could only nod vigorously to show she was listening.

"Since you have already successfully forged your Sword, there are some things that must be said." Su Ying's tone suddenly turned solemn as she spoke. "Have you felt it — your Sword Heart? Do you know — your Sword's name?"

The Sword Heart and the Sword Name are the two most important things for a Sword Cultivator.

Bai Tian gently stroked the long sword in her hand, yet her mouth brought up an entirely unrelated topic, "... Senior Sister Su Ying, Senior Brother—he's really strong."

"Why bring that up all of a sudden?" Su Ying knitted her brows.

Atian smiled, "Because I want to become that strong too!"

Su Ying fell silent at those words. She thought for a moment, then finally sat on the edge of the bed with her legs spread wide in a bold, commanding posture, and said to Bai Tian, "Junior Sister Bai, do you know what Senior Brother's sword is called?"

Atian thought of the beautiful White Jade Sword with red silk tassels that Bai Xinli wore at his waist, and shook her head.

"Senior Brother's sword... is called 'No-Self,'" Su Ying's face was utterly solemn, "Of the three thousand Daos, myriad laws return to no-self—that is what 'No-Self' means."

"The reason Senior Brother has been praised as 'the person of the younger generation closest to the Heavenly Dao' lies precisely in this. What others spend a lifetime pursuing, he obtained from the very start—but the higher the starting point, the harder the road ahead."

"How does one hold 'No-Self' in check? Losing the self plunges one into eternal calamity; clinging too tightly to the self leaves one unable to take a single step forward, the Sword Heart falls—hardships and trials within, perhaps only he himself knows."

"I have already nearly forgotten Bai Xinli."

That sentence Atian could not puzzle out no matter how she racked her brain echoed in her ears.

Speaking of which, a wry smile tugged at the corner of Su Ying's mouth, "Come to think of it, I'm actually a few years older than Senior Brother's mother. I raised him from childhood, but ever since he began nurturing his sword and sheathing its edge, even I can hardly understand him anymore."

However, the self-pitying mood did not last long. Senior Sister Su Ying, who could never resist breaking character, indignantly slapped the headboard, "That stinky little brat, hiding things from a Senior Sister as kind as a mother—truly lacking in filial piety! How utterly unreasonable!"

Atian nodded her head like a little chick pecking at grain.

Composing her emotions, Su Ying switched her form of address back, "A Sword Cultivator cannot choose their own Sword Heart, nor can they change their own original heart. Even though this path is ten thousand times difficult, Senior Brother can only advance in the face of difficulty."

"I say all this to let you know—if you wish to be as strong as Senior Brother, I'm afraid you can only—advance in the face of difficulty."

"On the road of Xiuxian, there are no shortcuts. Only by keeping faith with one's original heart and comprehending the great Dao can one fight an Immortal Path out among thousands upon thousands of people!"

As she spoke, her brows and eyes softened.

"I'll ask you once more—what is your Sword Name?"

"Ten Thousand Calamities," Atian smiled too, "Only through ten thousand calamities can one find beginning and end."

She tilted her head, and her fair, lovely face now looked rather innocent and artlessly charming.

"I like that name."