The Record of Lady Ziwei's Holy War

Su Xiaoxiao had spent three full days preparing for this "grand opening."

At dusk, Xinghai City's commercial street plaza was packed with people.

A temporary stage stood in the center of the plaza. A purple-and-gold Great Scythe was printed on the backdrop, with a line of gilded lettering beneath it: Star Guardian Lady Ziwei's In-Person Fan Festival.

The plaza was packed shoulder to shoulder. Students held light-up signs, independent media creators carried cameras, and more than a dozen cosplayers in colorful Magical Armor moved through the crowd.

Even the Monster Hunting Bureau had sent two agents. They stood at the edge of the crowd with their arms crossed, ostensibly to maintain order, while their recording devices ran nonstop.

Su Xiaoxiao stood at the center of the stage.

She had spared no expense today. A long purple-and-gold wig was tied into twin tails. Her lace Magical Armor had gone through seven revisions based on screenshots circulating online, and the hem of her skirt glittered with star-shaped sequins. In her hand, she held a full-size Great Scythe made of cardboard.

Her old star-shaped hair clip was pinned to her bangs beside a new purple one. The two bobbed together whenever she moved.

"Everyone—!"

Her portable voice amplifier blasted her voice across the plaza.

"Welcome to the first Lady Ziwei Fan Festival! I'm the fan club president, Dark Dragon Pitch-Black Flame Envoy!"

Whistles and applause erupted below the stage.

"Everyone here today gets a free copy of The Record of Lady Ziwei's Holy War! Our research team stayed up all night putting it together. You won't find it anywhere else!"

She raised a homemade booklet, its cover lettering gleaming.

"First battle! The abandoned factory! Lady Ziwei killed a Blood Curse Species with a single strike, tore down a load-bearing wall with one hand, and rescued a trapped girl!"

"Yeah!"

"Second battle! The Heavy Industry Base across the sea! Forbidden spell: Dusk Calamity Annihilation! A lord-class monster rated at 3,100 units was vaporized on the spot! Lady Ziwei even forced its self-destruction to stop!"

"Ziwei! Ziwei! Ziwei!"

"Fifth battle! Huimin Supermarket!" Su Xiaoxiao swung her cardboard Great Scythe in a full circle. "Finishing move: Playing Baseball! One home run sent the ice spikes flying back and killed the monster instantly! Lady Ziwei told me the name of that move herself!"

Across the plaza, Su Bai sat by a second-floor window in a milk tea shop.

He bit his straw, expressionless.

A third cup of pearl milk tea sat on the table. He had worked as a porter today, hauling more than a dozen boxes of booklets and merchandise from two until four that afternoon. This cup was his pay.

"Master," Kabi said from where he lay inside the back of Su Bai's collar, "didn't you make up the name Playing Baseball on the spot?"

"I did." Su Bai took a sip of milk tea. "She treated it like a royal decree and still remembers it."

"She also said you stopped the self-destruction because you couldn't bear to see innocent people suffer."

"I was afraid the reactor would explode and the shockwave would wreck the two villas I'd just bought."

"Should we correct her?"

"Correct what? The wilder her stories get, the more money flows into the fan support fund."

Onstage, Su Xiaoxiao was getting carried away. Her voice had grown a little hoarse, but her enthusiasm hadn't faded a bit.

"And then there was the battle at the school! Lady Ziwei struck from a distance, severed an alloy guardrail three hundred meters away, and scared off an entire Night Watch squad from the Monster Hunting Bureau!"

"Our research team named that move the Line of Divine Punishment! The scythe swings, the line arrives, the gods rage, and heaven strikes!"

Su Bai nearly choked on a tapioca pearl.

"Cough... What Line of Divine Punishment?" He set down his milk tea. "I was just annoyed they were aiming a sniper rifle at me, so I swung once."

"You'll get used to it, Master." Kabi held back a laugh. "There are already more than twenty versions of your legend."

At the side of the stage, Xia Ning watched over the merchandise stall.

A row of Ziwei body pillows was stacked on the table. A sign read: Official fan club merchandise. All profits go toward the fan festival.

Business was astonishingly good. The line stretched more than ten meters.

"Ningning! More pillows!" Su Xiaoxiao called from the stage.

"Coming!" Xia Ning called back. She bent to drag a box out from under the table, but it got stuck halfway.

A hand reached over, picked up the box, and set it on the table.

"Su Bai?" Xia Ning looked up. "Weren't you at the milk tea shop?"

"I finished my drink and came down to stretch my legs." Su Bai stacked the pillows on the table. "How much are they?"

"Eight hundred and eighty-six each."

"And the cost?"

"Thirty."

"That's conservative." Su Bai dusted off his hands. "While the fans are this worked up, they'd fight over them at eighteen hundred. Raise the price on the next batch."

Xia Ning blinked. "But isn't that too expensive? Won't the fans complain?"

"They'll buy them anyway."

"Master," Kabi said with a tsk, "you're even making money off pillows with your own face on them."

"Of course. The profits go into the fan support fund," Su Bai replied in his mind. "And whose wallet does that fund go into? You know the answer."

"...Oh, right."

Xia Ning looked down as she arranged the pillows and muttered, "Selling these still feels a little dishonest..."

"What's dishonest?"

"N-nothing!" She handed a pillow to the next customer in line, her smile a little stiff.

At the edge of the crowd, three men crouched beneath the awning of a gift shop, smoking.

Their leader had a narrow, blade-like face. His cigarette had burned halfway down, and his eyes never left the donation box behind the stage.

"There's at least three hundred thousand in cash in that box." He flicked away some ash. "Once the event ends and things get chaotic, Old Ghost makes his move."

The tall, thin man beside him rubbed his fingers together and chuckled. "Don't worry. One touch of my Drunken Smoke and they'll drop. Even the gods won't be able to trace it."

The third man, a burly fellow, lowered his voice. "Boss, are we only taking the box? I heard that fan club president claims she can commune with Ziwei..."

"Obviously not. I was getting to that." The narrow-faced man stubbed out his cigarette. "The money's a bonus. That girl's the real prize."

"The Golden Scale Society put out a bounty. Anyone who uncovers Ziwei's real identity or where she's staying gets three million."

"Three million?!" the burly man's voice cracked. "Isn't the official reward only one million?"

"The authorities want to recruit her. The Golden Scale Society wants her dead." The narrow-faced man sneered. "Last month, that woman took every lord-class bounty in the city. The Golden Scale Society didn't get a single job, and dozens of its people were left with nothing."

"The chairman said that if this keeps up, either that woman dies or the Golden Scale Society disbands."

The tall, thin man licked his lips. "So we grab the girl and force her to talk?"

"She's just some kid playing make-believe. What could she really know?" The burly man scratched his head. "Communing with Ziwei? Who'd believe that?"

"It doesn't matter if she knows nothing." The narrow-faced man narrowed his eyes. "We kidnap her and spread the word. If Ziwei really cares about her number-one follower, she'll show herself."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then we sell the girl to the Golden Scale Society. She'll be worth something."

The tall, thin man stood, rubbing his hands together. "Want me to do it now? I'll knock her out onstage. Then we'll pretend to be friends of her brother and help her backstage to rest. Who's going to stop us?"

"Go. Keep it clean."