Chapter Three: The Escort Mission

Liu Shuangling had never imagined she would be defeated so completely.

Bai Yujing didn’t rely on the advantage of spiritual pressure; instead, he suppressed his own strength to match hers, using the same spells, incantations, and even martial arts techniques.

Yet she simply couldn’t withstand him.

Sweat soaked through her thin T-shirt, the fabric clinging to her skin and outlining her high, graceful curves. With each rapid breath, her chest heaved as if about to burst free from its confines.

Bai Yujing stood opposite her, not a single bead of sweat on his brow, his expression calm as still water. “That’s enough for today,” he said. “Sweep the grounds of Qingyun Sect and recover your spiritual pressure.”

As his words fell, the spacious hall shrank rapidly before her eyes, returning to its original size. The marks of battle on the floor repaired themselves as if by magic.

“Huff… ha…” Liu Shuangling gradually steadied her breathing. According to her plan, she shouldn’t be engaging in combat with equals so soon. She’d never had the chance to accumulate experience fighting spiritualists of her own level. Yet the lessons from this battle would surely serve her well in the next.

She silently encouraged herself. To fall from the pedestal of genius and become someone easily manipulated—this crushing disparity would have been unbearable for anyone else.

But Liu Shuangling was different; her spirit was as unyielding as iron. Temporary defeat only ignited an even fiercer resolve within her.

…

Leaving the hall, she spotted a broom leaning against the door and stepped forward to begin sweeping.

Sunlight spilled across the flagstone courtyard, the stones gleaming so brightly it hurt the eyes. Not a speck of dust could be seen between the joints.

Still, Liu Shuangling dared not sweep carelessly, wary that Bai Yujing might be watching her from the shadows.

Considering the possibility, she tested it: “The sect master has a face like an iceberg.”

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves in the courtyard; all around was silence. It seemed no one was watching.

Her lips curled in a relaxed smile, and the broom moved more leisurely in her hand, lazily tracing circles across the ground.

A thread-thin spark of electricity suddenly sliced through the air, striking her lower back.

“Ah!” she yelped, legs snapping straight, her slender waist arching backward until her whole body bowed like a drawn bowstring. The sudden jolt only emphasized the fullness of her chest.

“Don’t get lazy,” Bai Yujing’s voice drifted to her ear, calm as ever, as if the electric shock had nothing to do with him.

Liu Shuangling straightened slowly, her refined, oval face twisted in barely-contained fury. She opened her mouth to curse him but forced the words back down.

“Just you wait, old fossil!” she fumed inwardly, wielding the broom with such force it seemed she might skin the very stones.

Bai Yujing continued his silent surveillance, touching his cheek. Was his expression really so cold? He hadn’t meant to seem aloof; he’d simply lived alone in Qingyun Sect for so many years, spending his days cultivating, rarely interacting with outsiders. Naturally, he wasn’t much for words. And when neither happy nor sad, his face simply lacked expression.

“Iceberg face”—that must be Liu Shuangling’s nonsense.

Considering further, he decided it was necessary to correct her habit of speaking recklessly. He’d have her copy the lines, “Never do evil, no matter how small; never neglect good, no matter how minor,” as punishment—ten thousand times, since it was her first offense.

Bai Yujing wasn’t one to bear grudges, but he couldn’t abide lies.

…

“Never do evil, no matter how small; never neglect good, no matter how minor.”

Those two sentences echoed endlessly in Liu Shuangling’s mind like a curse.

Papers piled high on the table, every sheet densely filled with those words. At first, her handwriting was neat, almost mechanical. But as time passed, her pen strokes grew sharper and heavier, pressing so hard they nearly tore the paper, each character a vent for her frustration.

She desperately wanted to hurl the pen to the floor.

But she dared not stop.

Bai Yujing stood behind her, supervising her copying. The slightest laxity brought a jolt of electricity—a sensation so intense it triggered an urge she hadn’t felt in ages, nearly making her wet herself.

To avoid embarrassment, she focused all her energy on writing.

Suddenly, the chime of a bell rang through the hall. Bai Yujing checked his phone—a new order from the Demon-Hunting App.

The reward was ten thousand, to escort Wang Debiao from Shanghai Central Station to the headquarters of the Shanghai Embroidered Guards.

He accepted the order at once.

If he wanted to raise Qingyun Sect’s status, he had to increase its rank within Daxia. Unlike before, a sect’s rank was no longer tied to the sect master’s strength but set in grades: A, B, C, D. Advancement required completing a set number of orders from the Demon-Hunting App.

Glancing at Wang Debiao’s address, then at Liu Shuangling still copying lines, he announced, “Stop for now. There’s a new order. Come with me.”

“Yes!” Liu Shuangling dropped the pen at once. Anything was better than endlessly copying those two sentences.

Bai Yujing placed a hand on her shoulder, and an invisible wave of energy spread at light speed across Shanghai—locating, shifting, and in an instant, they were gone.

This was his own invention: the Soundless Void.

…

A muffled thud sounded as the air split. The scene changed abruptly; a tidal wave of noise crashed into Liu Shuangling’s ears.

Such speed! she marveled, realizing they now stood at Exit B of Shanghai Central Station.

Even though it wasn’t rush hour, the exit was still packed. Amid the stream of people, many were blond-haired, blue-eyed foreigners.

Their sudden appearance drew curious glances.

Liu Shuangling, unencumbered by glasses or a hair tie, was beautiful, voluptuous, and impossible to ignore wherever she went.

Bai Yujing might not have been heart-stoppingly handsome, but there was an undeniable heroism between his brows—anyone could spot him at a glance in a crowd.

Ignoring the stares, Bai Yujing found their client and stepped forward. “Mr. Wang, I’m the head of Qingyun Sect. I just accepted your order on the app. The code is 1532.”

Wang Debiao was an elderly man, his hair white and his face creased with wrinkles. Hearing Bai Yujing, he fumbled with his phone, embarrassed. “Ah, um… how do I do this?”

“Click ‘Arrived,’ then enter the code,” Bai Yujing instructed.

With the steps completed, the order status changed to “Escort in Progress.”

Switching to business mode, Bai Yujing said, “We’ll take a taxi.”

Wang Debiao’s face turned pale, his voice trembling. “Can’t you just do what you did just now and get us there faster?”

“We have to give those people a chance to make their move,” Bai Yujing replied, casually scanning the crowd before looking away.

Liu Shuangling’s delicate lips twisted in a cold smirk. “Those fools really are hopeless.”

“Shuangling, show some respect for the dead,” Bai Yujing chided softly.

She blinked in surprise, then couldn’t help but protest. “Respect? They’re not even dead yet and you’re already calling them the dead—how is that respect?”

Bai Yujing’s expression remained serene. “From the moment they chose to oppose me, they were already dead.”

Liu Shuangling had nothing to say.

Because it was the truth.