The Unknown

Applause rose, a little delayed at first, then growing ever more fervent.

Winning while twelve levels below his opponent was rare even in the history of the Great Soul Arena. What was more, he had won so calmly, so...

Beautifully.

Zhou Qiubai sheathed his sword at his waist and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Dai Mubai called after him.

Zhou Qiubai looked back, one brow lifting slightly.

Dai Mubai stared at him without blinking and asked, word by word, "Who exactly are you? With your strength, you can't possibly be some nobody. Which family are you from? State your name."

A commoner could never possess such strength. He had to belong to a sect.

Zhou Qiubai fell silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled faintly, carrying a hint of carefree ease.

"What a coincidence. I really am a nobody," he said with a smile. "I have no father or mother. I grew up eating food from a hundred households and sleeping in ruined temples. No one ever gave me a surname, much less a name. But..."

He paused and looked up toward the stands.

"The seasons change, cycles repeat, and reincarnation turns ever onward. That is not so bad. I gave myself the surname Zhou. I was born in late autumn, and when I saw frost whitening the mountains, I named myself Qiubai. White Clothes bore a sword, and the sword was named White Clothes. So, my name is Zhou Qiubai."

For the first time, he spoke his own name aloud.

When his words fell, the entire arena went silent.

After quite a while, Dai Mubai ignored that lengthy, lofty introduction and muttered, "Zhou Qiubai... Never heard of him."

"You have now." Zhou Qiubai turned around and waved. "Farewell."

He stepped down from the soul fighting stage and gradually disappeared into the contestants' passageway.

Dai Mubai stood frozen where he was, watching his retreating figure with an unreadable expression.

Only after a long time did he grit his teeth and mutter, "So? I really was defeated by some nobody?"

In the contestants' resting area, Zhou Qiubai accepted the bag of Gold Soul Coins from a staff member with a smile.

Zhao Yan smiled slightly beside him. "Little Brother Zhou, that was incredible! Even a Soul Elder like Dai Mubai was beaten so badly he couldn't fight back!"

Then he suddenly lowered his voice, looking somewhat mysterious. "But that brat Dai Mubai is no simple character. You embarrassed him badly today, so you'd better watch out for his revenge."

Zhou Qiubai glanced at him and said blandly, "Thank you for the warning."

With that, he turned and left the resting area, walking out of the Great Soul Arena.

Night fell, and the streets gradually emptied. Pedestrians vanished like shooting stars.

Zhou Qiubai was in no hurry to return to the inn.

Dai Mubai's strength was indeed above average among Soul Elders, but he relied too heavily on soul skills and brute force. His combat fundamentals were rough, and his mindset was somewhat impetuous.

"Star Luo Prince..." Zhou Qiubai murmured, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "Like a tiger raised in a greenhouse. No matter how sharp its claws and fangs, it lacks that wildness."

Just as he was lost in thought, he suddenly stopped.

A figure stood at the street corner ahead.

She seemed to have waited for a long time. When she saw Zhou Qiubai, her body stiffened slightly, but she still gathered her courage and walked toward him.

"Zhou... Zhou Qiubai." Ning Rongrong's voice trembled faintly. "I... I have something to ask you."

Zhou Qiubai looked at her and nodded slightly. "Go ahead."

"Why... why didn't you kill Dai Mubai just now?" She raised her head, confusion in her eyes. "With your swordsmanship, you could have killed him easily."

Zhou Qiubai was silent for a moment.

"I have no grievance against him, so why should I kill him? I taught you a lesson because you offended me first. As for Dai Mubai, it was a match in the arena, and stopping at the proper point was enough. Life is not something that can be taken casually, even if the other person is an enemy."

She wanted him to be the one to stick his neck out. Too bad...

Dai Mubai probably bullied her just now, and no one helped her save face, so she came looking for him.

Ning Rongrong froze.

Those words were completely different from the education she had received since childhood.

At the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, she had learned that interests came first, gains and losses had to be weighed, and others could be sacrificed when necessary.

Her father, Ning Fengzhi, was gentle, but he had never taught her that "life must not be taken lightly."

"But... but don't you hate people like us?" Ning Rongrong asked softly. "People who rely on their family backgrounds and look down on everyone else..."

It seemed Ning Rongrong had also learned Dai Mubai's identity from his Martial Soul.

White Tiger, mismatched eyes, and the surname Dai—his identity could not have been more obvious.

"I do hate them," Zhou Qiubai said bluntly. "But hatred does not mean killing. The martial world has its rules, and the imperial court has its rules. My sword does not cut down the innocent."

He paused, his gaze settling on Ning Rongrong. "You waited here just to ask me that?"

Ning Rongrong bit her lip. After hesitating for a moment, she finally said in a small voice, "That day... thank you."

"Thank me?" Zhou Qiubai raised a brow.

"Thank you for not killing me, and thank you... for showing me the real world." Ning Rongrong's voice grew quieter and quieter. "I used to think everyone should give way to me and spoil me. But now I understand that the world is so vast, and I... am truly very small."

As she spoke, the old arrogance in her eyes was gone, replaced by a trace of confusion and clarity.

Zhou Qiubai looked at her quietly, then suddenly asked, "Did your father send a reply?"

Ning Rongrong was startled. "How did you know..."

"The guards of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect are not decorations. They definitely reported what happened that day," Zhou Qiubai said calmly. "If Ning Fengzhi is intelligent, he should know how to educate his daughter."

Ning Rongrong lowered her head and said softly, "Father sent a letter. He said... I should accept this lesson. He also told me to cultivate properly at Shrek and stop being so willful."

"That is good." Zhou Qiubai nodded and walked past her, continuing onward.

"Wait!" Ning Rongrong called after him once more. "Will... will you stay in Suotuo City?"

"No." Zhou Qiubai did not look back. "Those of the martial world are fated to wander. If fate allows, we will meet again."

His figure gradually blended into the night. Ning Rongrong remained where she was, watching him leave as complicated emotions surged within her.

That night, the little princess of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect finally began to seriously consider what the "self" truly was.

By the time Zhou Qiubai returned to the inn, it was already midnight.

He gently pushed open the door to his room. Just as he was about to light the lamp, he paused slightly.

Someone was inside.

It was not killing intent, but an exceedingly faint presence. If his senses had not far surpassed those of ordinary people, he likely would not have noticed that barely perceptible existence at all.

"Since you are here, why hide in the shadows?" Zhou Qiubai said calmly, his fingers lightly resting on the sword hilt, ready to strike at any moment.

Just then, a light laugh came from the darkness, carrying a hint of teasing.

"What sharp senses."

The candle flame flickered, seeming to ignite on its own without any wind.

Zhou Qiubai studied him carefully. "A covert guard of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect?"

"Indeed. I am Shadow Seven, commander of the covert guards."