The Trouble with Being a Mediocrity

And what about himself?

Bai Huanran’s gaze instinctively passed over the crazed Nakamura Yu and fell upon the rest area of Huaqing Academy.

He saw An Changqing’s solemn expression and Su Yuehe’s gentle eyes.

Finally, his gaze landed on that person.

Chen Guan was still leaning back in his chair, eyes closed, completely detached from everything happening around him.

That was right. It had nothing to do with him.

Their struggles and unwillingness to yield, their glory and humiliation—in his world, perhaps they could not even create the slightest ripple. They were nothing more than fools troubling themselves.

Bai Huanran suddenly laughed. Supporting himself against the ground, he slowly rose to his feet and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

He watched Nakamura Yu charge toward him once more. The confusion in his eyes faded completely, replaced by an unprecedented calm.

Champion or laughingstock, he would have to walk his own path.

“Water and sky, one line.”

Bai Huanran’s voice was soft, yet it carried the resolve to sever everything in its path.

He raised two fingers and lightly drew them across the air in front of him.

A single strand of water, condensed to the utmost degree and thin as a cicada’s wing, silently appeared between him and Nakamura Yu.

Nakamura Yu’s charging body abruptly froze. He lowered his head and saw a bloody mark appear out of nowhere across his chest, rapidly widening.

The fury in his eyes receded like the tide. He opened his mouth, but only a spray of blood escaped.

Bang!

Nakamura Yu’s body fell backward in a rigid heap, striking the ground and sending up a cloud of dust.

Bai Huanran stood where he was, looking down at his hands.

So he wasn’t weak after all.

“Winner: Beishi Academy, Bai Huanran.”

The referee’s voice rang out.

The entire arena remained silent.

The brief and abrupt battle had stirred no reaction whatsoever. It was like the sea swallowing a pebble—not even the courtesy of a sound.

Bai Huanran turned and walked off the arena one step at a time.

When he returned to the rest area, Yan Feiyan came over and handed him a bottle of water.

“You…”

“I’m fine.”

Bai Huanran accepted the water. His hand was steady, and so was his voice.

“I just realized something. Some mountains aren’t meant to be climbed. They’re meant to be looked up to.”

As he spoke, his gaze once again fell upon that figure with his eyes closed in quiet meditation.

“We only need to walk our own paths well. That’s enough.”

“A competition has never been only about the championship.”

Yan Feiyan looked at him, at the light that had returned to his eyes. After a long silence, she finally nodded.

In Huaqing Academy’s rest area, An Changqing had taken everything in.

He suddenly spoke softly to Su Yuehe beside him.

“Yuehe, do you think an existence like Chen Guan will crush our era—or… force an entirely new era into being?”

Su Yuehe did not answer. She simply watched him in silence. Reflected in her clear eyes was An Changqing’s profile, the flames burning there more fiercely than ever before.

The next few matches passed with everyone watching absentmindedly.

When the final bout ended, the list of the sixteen advancing contestants finally locked into place on the enormous holographic screen. The portraits of those who had qualified shone brightly above it.

On the main platform, An Changsong looked at the list and wearily rubbed his brow.

He rose to his feet, and his voice spread throughout the arena through the broadcasting system.

“Congratulations to the sixteen contestants listed above for successfully advancing to the round of sixteen.”

“Considering the intensity of the tournament, as well as the need for… more thorough maintenance of the venue, tomorrow will be a rest day.”

“The quarterfinals will begin promptly at nine tomorrow morning.”

After making the announcement, he hurriedly left the platform, even his departing figure carrying a hint of panic.

With his departure, the spectators also began filing out. At last, the arena slowly recovered its vitality after the suffocating atmosphere.

At Huaqing Academy’s rest area, An Changqing stood up.

“Let’s head back.”

He glanced at Chen Guan, who was still meditating with his eyes closed, then looked at Su Yuehe and Shan Heng beside him.

“Senior Qin Wu and Long Ao should have finished their examinations by now. Let’s go check on them.”

…

Medical Center.

The corridor was filled with the sharp smell of disinfectant. They soon found Qin Wu’s room and pushed open the door. A heavy medicinal odor immediately washed over them.

Qin Wu was half reclining on the hospital bed. When he saw everyone enter, he greeted them with a grin.

“Yo, you’re all here.”

Long Ao was there as well, sitting in a chair nearby.

“Senior Qin Wu, how are you feeling?” An Changqing asked first.

“Not dead yet.”

Qin Wu waved it off carelessly. His gaze landed on Chen Guan, his eyes brimming with undisguised amusement.

“Finished your match? I could feel the floor shaking from here. You really made quite a commotion. What, did you tear the arena apart?”

“Nothing like that.”

Chen Guan denied it without hesitation, though he could not help feeling a little guilty as he looked at the engineering drones outside, which were busy repairing the venue.

An Changqing took over the conversation.

“This match was Chen Guan against Hiiragi Qingbai.”

“Hiiragi Qingbai used the Night Parade of One Hundred Demons.”

Qin Wu immediately became interested. “That guy’s trump card, huh? It really is a huge headache. And then? You won again?”

The last sentence was directed at Chen Guan’s back.

An Changqing paused, as though carefully considering his wording. His expression became indescribably strange.

“You can’t really say he won… It would be more accurate to say that Hiiragi Qingbai’s Night Parade of One Hundred Demons was deleted with a single click.”

“Deleted?”

Qin Wu froze on the spot, clearly unable to process the word right away. This wasn’t computer software—how could it be deleted?

“What do you mean, scattered? Didn’t he have an unlimited supply of summons?”

“Not scattered.”

Su Yuehe’s soft voice rang out as she explained, “The foundation that allowed him to summon his shikigami was erased from the source itself. Not a single one of them managed to return to the torii.”

Qin Wu was completely dumbfounded.

A dozen seconds later, a violent fit of coughing suddenly erupted from his throat. He had laughed so hard that he had even aggravated his serious lung injury.

Qin Wu coughed while howling with laughter, tears shooting from the corners of his eyes.

“Wiped clean? Good! That’s great! Hahaha! That guy named Hiiragi Qingbai must have lost even his underwear this time!”

Following the principle of taking pleasure in other people’s misfortune, Qin Wu was naturally delighted.

“Ahem. It wasn’t really deleted,” Chen Guan took over the explanation. “The software was only uninstalled and thrown into the recycle bin. It’s already been restored.”

The reason was that his final slash had freed all the souls sealed within the scythe. As a result, Hiiragi Qingbai’s shikigami had all returned to his possession.

He had probably been too devastated to notice at the time. It was only after inspecting the scythe himself that Chen Guan discovered what had happened.

All in all, it had not been a bad deal. He had gained another reusable experience source.