Chapter Seventy-Four: Occasionally, One Must Show Care for the Lonely Sect Leader

Inside the competitors’ tunnel, dim light spilled over the cold walls. Four nurses huddled in the rear, like chicks sheltering behind their mother hen, their eyes fixed tightly on the figure ahead. It was as though an insurmountable mountain stood before them, keeping all danger and storms at bay.

Tiger stood upright on the stretcher that had landed, rising even taller than Bai Yujing. Yet in terms of aura, he could not suppress Bai Yujing in the slightest. This only fueled the savagery in Tiger’s heart, so much so that he didn’t even wonder if Bai Yujing’s ability to take his punch so easily meant he was the stronger one. For Black Americans, thinking was the least necessary thing. When faced with something unpleasant, just fight first—regret was for afterwards.

With a snarl, Tiger’s eyes bulged wide as jet-black spiritual markings swiftly spread from his brow across his entire face. The gleaming lines stood out sharply against his dark skin, as though some sinister power was awakening. With a crackling sound, his bones seemed to fracture, and his muscles swelled before their eyes. He shot up from two meters to over three, his head nearly brushing the tunnel ceiling. His body was cast in metallic muscle, like heavy armor encasing every inch. His fingers grew razor-sharp, his mouth split open to reveal shark-like teeth gleaming with a cold threat. The oppressive energy filled the corridor, freezing the very air.

The four nurses, however, felt no pressure—only pure terror at Tiger’s current form, which was nothing like a human’s. Though most American Blacks were hard to call human in terms of character or morals, now even his body no longer looked human.

“I’m going to kill you!” Tiger roared, swinging his claws through the air with a screeching sonic boom. Bai Yujing didn’t even move his fingers. He merely glared, and in that instant, a vast spiritual force erupted, pressing down on Tiger like an invisible mountain.

In a heartbeat, Tiger’s movements froze; time itself seemed to halt. His pupils contracted, cold sweat pouring down his brow like rain. In his eyes, Bai Yujing’s figure expanded, looming like an untouchable deity. Tiger’s bones groaned under the crushing force, as though they would snap at any moment.

With a heavy thud, both his knees hit the ground, and his whole body toppled sideways like a puppet with its strings cut. His shorts were drenched in sweat, clinging wetly to his skin as if fished out of the sea. His breath came harsh and rapid, the savagery in his eyes replaced by terror. The only reason he hadn’t died on the spot was that he still held some value for questioning.

Bai Yujing turned and said, “You all go ahead. Leave this to me.”

“Alright,” the nurses answered quickly, nodding with looks of relief and excitement after their brush with danger. Their crisp footsteps echoed as they hurried away, whispering about the harrowing scene they’d just witnessed.

Bai Yujing then pulled out his phone and called the Six Doors Bureau. “Hello, I’ve just discovered a spiritual entity incident here. The address is Arena 1, Athlete Tunnel 2, Shanghai Sports Center.”

“Understood. We’ll send a team right away.”

He ended the call and didn’t wait long. At the entrance to the tunnel, a tall, broad-shouldered figure appeared: a square jaw, thick brows, and large, piercing eyes.

“We meet again, Chief Bao.”

“Yes, quite the coincidence,” Bao Long replied, his gaze falling on Tiger sprawled on the ground like a puddle of slime, the black markings on his face stark in the dim light. “Thank you for the tip, Sect Master Bai.”

Bai Yujing replied calmly, “Think nothing of it. I just happened to be here and took care of it. But if I recall, these spiritual entities are related to Yamata no Orochi. He’s dead—so why are there still entities out here?”

“Someone’s been spreading Orochi’s research on the black market. A few people have begun conducting their own experiments in secret, eager to obtain spiritual powers,” Bao Long explained without concealing such a minor detail. Grabbing Tiger, he said, “I’ll take my leave.”

“Goodbye.” Bai Yujing watched him disappear down the tunnel, then checked the time on his phone: 6:40 p.m. He glanced at the tally of completed orders—two hundred seventy at the lowest grade, eighty-two at the next, and two at a higher level.

“Not bad. I’ll log off for today.”

Night had fallen, and the moon and stars cast their glow over the flagstone plaza. Bai Yujing lay back on a bamboo lounge chair, a few bottles of wine and some takeout placed on the table beside him, three stools waiting quietly for their owners.

Liu Shuangling emerged onto the plaza after finishing her cultivation of the forbidden scripture, her brows knitting slightly as she saw Bai Yujing and the table at the center. She wanted to ignore them and walk on.

Bai Yujing waved, his tone casual. “Shuangling, the moon’s lovely tonight. Come have a drink with me.”

Expressionless, Liu Shuangling replied coolly, “Sect Master, am I allowed to refuse?”

“No worries, I’m not the type to hold a grudge if you turn me down. I wouldn’t put you on my blacklist and make life hard for you later,” Bai Yujing replied with a grand wave.

Liu Shuangling instantly caught his meaning: if she refused, he’d absolutely make things difficult for her. Sigh—so much for not allowing lies, when the right to define a lie belonged to the sect master alone, she thought ruefully.

Sometimes, one just has to bow their head. She stepped forward with a smile, “As it happens, I’m a little thirsty.”

Two figures slipped lightly across the plaza, not unlike employees trying to avoid being caught working overtime by the boss.

Bai Yujing called out, “Tia, Zhu Ying, you both come join us for a drink.”

They stopped. Tia, still sweating, turned and asked, “Sect Master, what’s gotten into you tonight, wanting to drink with us?”

“It’s a long story,” he began.

“No need, then. I’ll go change first,” Tia interrupted, hooking a finger in her collar. Sweat had plastered her white t-shirt to her chest, the leopard print beneath on full display. She headed for the changing room.

Liu Shuangling, also uncomfortable with the sweat on her body, said, “I’ll change too.”

Before long, Tia was the first to return, golden hair cascading over her shoulders. Her cropped leopard-print top revealed a slender waist, and her form-fitting shorts accentuated her curves, the striking contrast between waist and hips stirring an irresistible urge to take her for a spin.

She sauntered over, pulled out a chair, and sat down gracefully, picking up a wine glass with a look of disdain. “This isn’t good wine. You’re a millionaire, at least treat us beautiful women to something better than this cheap stuff.”

With that, she knocked back her drink in one gulp.

Bai Yujing sat up, poured her another, and explained, “To me, all wine tastes much the same.”

Tia asked, “Sect Master, is there a reason you suddenly wanted us to join you?”

“Just a whim. I simply wanted to share a drink with you all,” he answered simply, leaving her unable to argue—after all, she could hardly win against the sect master.