The day of the grand competition finally arrived.
In the early morning, before the sky had fully brightened, the disciples of Xueji Peak began leaving their courtyards one after another. Morning mist clung to the withered branches flanking the stone steps like a thin veil, and the air still carried the crisp scent of frost and snow.
Bai Qingxue changed into a clean, frost-white Daoist robe. The Frost Condensation Sword hung at her waist, and her long hair was gathered up with a white jade hairpin, carefully concealing those silver-white strands beneath the black.
As she stepped out of her courtyard gate, Lu Xueqing was already waiting on the stone steps.
Hearing the movement, Lu Xueqing turned around, her gaze falling upon Bai Qingxue.
The morning light wasn't fully bright yet, but it was enough for her to see Bai Qingxue clearly. Lu Xueqing’s gaze subconsciously shifted downward, landing on Bai Qingxue’s left arm.
The wound had healed.
A strange, inexplicable sense of loss suddenly welled up in Lu Xueqing’s heart.
She remembered that evening, the way beads of blood had slid down Bai Qingxue’s fair forearm.
That injury from Chen Ran had been her own fault; it should be a good thing that the wound was completely healed now.
Yet, the cleaner it looked, the emptier Lu Xueqing felt inside.
It was as if she had never left a single mark on Bai Qingxue.
Junior Sister Bai had, once again, lost that connection with her...
Lu Xueqing lowered her eyes, gripped her sleeve for a moment, and then let go.
“Let’s go, Junior Sister Bai. I’ll accompany you,” she said, her tone the same as usual, carrying a faint smile.
...
From the direction of the distant Qingyun Terrace, the faint sound of voices drifted over. Disciples from the various peaks were gathering, their voices carried intermittently by the morning wind like a distant tide.
The competition was held at Qingyun Terrace. It was a massive stone platform leveled by formations, spanning a hundred yards in every direction. The ground was paved with solid blocks of white jade, polished so brightly that one could see their own blurry reflection while standing upon it.
Viewing stands had been erected around the stone platform, with a designated area for each of the seven peaks, distinguished by different colored curtains.
Xueji Peak’s spot was in the northwest corner, not far from the main viewing platform. Their curtains were frost-white, embroidered with the Xueji Peak emblem.
By the time Bai Qingxue and Lu Xueqing arrived, most of the Xueji Peak disciples were already seated.
Shen Yao, a fellow disciple, was waving at them. Two seats were empty beside her, and Shen Yao’s face was filled with unconcealed excitement.
Lu Xueqing led Bai Qingxue over to her.
“Sister Bai, do you feel nervous?” Shen Yao leaned in to ask, her eyes bright like those of a curious little animal.
Bai Qingxue glanced at her. “No.”
Hearing this, Shen Yao stuck out her tongue. “Even though the competition doesn’t have much to do with me, I’m so nervous I couldn’t even sleep well last night. I kept tossing and turning, thinking about what would happen if you ran into that Shen Moyuan, or what if you ran into someone from Chixia Peak.”
Bai Qingxue didn't respond to this, merely fixing her gaze on the center of Qingyun Terrace.
Shen Yao, however, continued to chatter away.
Quite a few people were already standing in the center of Qingyun Terrace. Disciples from each peak were lined up according to their number tokens, talking in low voices in groups of twos and threes. Some were checking their weapons, while others were resting with their eyes closed.
Ye Qingyao was also standing in the queue, wearing a pale green disciple uniform and holding a short sword, looking toward their direction.
Her hair was tied high, revealing a smooth forehead, and her face wore an expression of forced composure.
Their gazes met across the distance. Ye Qingyao was stunned for a moment, then the corners of her mouth curved slightly. Bai Qingxue nodded in acknowledgement before withdrawing her gaze.
The viewing stands were becoming increasingly crowded. The elders of each peak arrived one after another and took their seats on the main viewing platform.
Liu Ningshuang was the last to arrive, dressed in a frost-white Daoist robe. Her expression was cold and her pace unhurried; wherever she passed, the surrounding disciples subconsciously fell silent.
She sat at the very front of the Xueji Peak section. Her gaze swept over the disciples behind her, pausing for a brief moment on Bai Qingxue before nodding slightly and looking away.
Just as Bai Qingxue was about to look away, she heard a low gasp from Shen Yao beside her.
“Look, look! The one leading the Tianshu Peak group is Shen Moyuan!”
Bai Qingxue followed her gaze.
A youth was walking down the stone steps.
He wore an ink-black Daoist robe made of fine material, with a long sword hanging at his waist. The scabbard was pitch-black and devoid of decoration, yet it possessed a heavy, solid quality. His features were handsome, with a hint of coldness between his brows. Several Tianshu Peak disciples followed behind him, but none walked beside him; they all consciously trailed half a step behind in a display of silent reverence.
Shen Yao continued, “Shen Moyuan is the most formidable of Tianshu Peak’s current batch—at the sixth level of Qi Refining with superb swordsmanship. I heard he has no rivals among his peers at Tianshu Peak; even some of the older disciples at the seventh level can’t beat him.”
Bai Qingxue watched the youth, her expression unchanging.
Shen Moyuan came to a halt in the Tianshu Peak area, his gaze sweeping the surroundings as if searching for something.
His eyes moved back and forth among the disciples of the various peaks until, finally, they landed on Bai Qingxue.
He watched her for a few breaths, then began walking over.
Shen Yao sucked in a sharp breath, her body shrinking back. “He... he’s coming over...” Lu Xueqing leaned forward slightly, subconsciously shielding Bai Qingxue behind her.
Shen Moyuan bypassed Lu Xueqing and stopped three paces in front of Bai Qingxue.
He looked at Bai Qingxue with a calm gaze, a faint, non-committal smile on his lips. The smile was perfectly polite, yet it made Bai Qingxue feel as though he were wearing a mask.
“You must be Bai Qingxue?” Shen Moyuan asked.
Bai Qingxue looked at him without speaking. Her silence caused the surrounding atmosphere to freeze in a subtle, awkward tension.
“I’ve heard much about you,” Shen Moyuan said. His tone was courteous, but his eyes made Bai Qingxue feel faintly uncomfortable.
Bai Qingxue finally spoke. “Mm.”
Shen Moyuan seemingly hadn't expected her reaction to be so lukewarm. He paused for a moment, but quickly regained his composed expression.
He smiled, the expression deepening slightly as he continued, “If we meet during the competition, please show some mercy.”
Several Tianshu Peak disciples nearby showed surprised expressions upon hearing this, exchanging glances with one another.
Shen Moyuan never showed weakness at Tianshu Peak; why was he saying such things to a junior sister from Xueji Peak today? Bai Qingxue’s expression remained unchanged as she looked at him and uttered two words.
“I won’t.”
Bai Qingxue’s tone was flat, yet her words sounded like a provocation.
Hearing this, Shen Moyuan’s smile stiffened for a moment, like a crack forming in a sheet of ice. Though it only lasted an instant, Bai Qingxue saw it.
Shen Moyuan stared at Bai Qingxue for a couple of breaths, then smiled again—a smile that was fainter than before, but felt more real.
“Good. Then I look forward to our match.” He then turned and left.
Bai Qingxue stared at his back for a few moments.
Shen Moyuan.
She felt like she had heard this name somewhere before. Not recently, but a long time ago. Was he some minor character from the original work?
Bai Qingxue frowned, only to realize that there shouldn't have been such a person in the original story as she remembered it...
But his smile, his gaze, and that comment about having “heard much about her” all felt wrong to Bai Qingxue. She couldn't quite put her finger on what was off, but it was a gut feeling.
Seeing Shen Moyuan felt like looking at someone wearing a mask. Even if the mask was exquisite, what lay beneath it made her instinctively wary.
“Junior Sister?” Lu Xueqing’s voice sounded in her ear, tinged with concern.
Bai Qingxue snapped out of it and looked at her.
“Are you alright?” Lu Xueqing asked, her gaze lingering on Bai Qingxue’s face as if searching for something.
Bai Qingxue shook her head. “I’m fine.”
Lu Xueqing glanced at her but didn't press further.
In the viewing stands, Shen Yao was still excitedly telling those nearby that “Shen Moyuan took the initiative to talk to Sister Bai,” her voice carrying a sense of shared pride.
Bai Qingxue ignored it and withdrew her gaze.
Regardless of who he was, if they met in the competition, she would simply fight.
Lu Xueqing leaned against the back of her chair, watching Bai Qingxue’s profile.
That face was the same as always—clear, aloof, and devoid of any expression.
When she had told Shen Moyuan “I won’t” just now, her tone had been exactly like this. She wasn't being intentionally cold or deliberately provocative; she had simply said those two words plainly, as if the person standing opposite her wasn't a famous rising star, but an insignificant passerby.
The corner of Lu Xueqing’s mouth twitched. She lowered her eyes, her fingers unconsciously rubbing her sleeve.
Bai Qingxue was like this with everyone.
She was like this with Shen Moyuan, she was like this with others, and she was... like this with her as well.
She wasn't anything special to Junior Sister Bai either...
Lu Xueqing suppressed that thought and looked up, her gaze falling on the distant Qingyun Terrace.
“Senior Sister?” Bai Qingxue noticed Lu Xueqing’s odd behavior and turned her head to ask.
“It’s nothing,” Lu Xueqing said, without looking at her.
Rate on N.U.
