Chapter 318

Chapter 318: Time to Go High-Profile

Yuan Mu of the sword court judged heroes by the sword. With Full-Star Realm cultivation, he forced his way into the Dual-Wind Line Battlefield and injured a Night Hunt of Black-White Heaven.

News like that kept reaching Wang Jie’s ears.

The outside world was a stage. The Starry Sky Martial Tournament was the final spotlight. And before the light even switched on, the stage was already roaring.

Only Wang Jie had nothing but doubt following him.

“Old Boss,” Qing Zheng said through clenched teeth, “you beat Shu Mu Ye, and people still don’t believe it. They’re calling it a stunt—Black-White Heaven hyping you up. They’re saying it’s fake, that Cheng Yi Dao doesn’t care because it happened in the Southern Dipper Bridge-Pillar. I want to tear their mouths off.”

Wang Jie didn’t care.

When he first received Enlightenment Tea, the gossip had been endless. Now hardly anyone bothered discussing him at all.

There were simply too many monsters on the stage. No one could watch everything.

Old Five leaned over, eyes glittering. “Look—someone from the heavenly insect clan got taught a lesson by Han Lin. They’re saying it was Han Lin’s half-sister.”

He squinted. “Wait. Isn’t that Chong Ruo Ruo?”

Wang Jie looked.

It really was Chong Ruo Ruo.

She was clearly Roaming-Star Realm now—yet she’d still been beaten by Han Lin. Han Lin’s strength was no joke.

A Star Vault Vista report displayed the scene: Chong Ruo Ruo sprawled in blood, Han Lin looking down from above, a dense mass of black insects behind him.

“Han Lin’s mother was murdered,” Sister Tang said with cold disgust. “Of course he’d hate the heavenly insect clan. Now that he’s strong, they want to drag him back. Typical.”

Right and wrong didn’t matter here. Only the person’s will.

With only a few days left, there was no point pushing cultivation further.

Wang Jie decided to rest and recover, shutting out the outside noise and waiting for the tournament.

But that didn’t mean he had to do nothing.

For instance—he could make someone memorize a eulogy.

“How many words?” Hui Zhua asked blankly.

“One hundred thousand.”

Hui Zhua’s face crumpled. “Why do I have to memorize that?”

“I want to hear it.”

Hui Zhua stood in front of Wang Jie, stunned.

Back in the Jinling base days, Hui Zhua had once been proud just to know Wang Jie. Now, in this place, he was doing fine—because he lived by one belief:

Follow Qing Zheng and the others, and you’d always have meat to eat.

Sure enough, he’d met Wang Jie.

If Wang Jie gave him even a little guidance, he could soar.

They were comrades. There was camaraderie.

And yet Wang Jie was making him memorize a hundred-thousand-word eulogy.

Hui Zhua couldn’t understand it.

But he couldn’t refuse.

Wang Jie patted his shoulder. “Work hard. I want to hear it in a few days.”

Hui Zhua trudged away, miserable.

Lockforce cultivation could raise combat power—and it could also sharpen memory beyond normal limits. Hui Zhua could do it.

It would just be painful.

A few days later, Hui Zhua returned and recited the entire hundred-thousand-word eulogy to Wang Jie.

He stumbled and corrected himself, but he finished.

Wang Jie nodded with satisfaction. “Good. Now go find me a rabbit.”

Hui Zhua stared up at the sky. “The pressure in the universe is insane. People have gone crazy.”

Wang Jie didn’t bother explaining. He’d done far more embarrassing things than this.

When Hui Zhua finally returned with a rabbit, Wang Jie stared at it like he was facing a great enemy.

“You’re so cute.”

He made sure more than five people heard those words from him—spoken out loud, alone.

Simple.

Requirement met.

Hong Jian looked at him, wanting to speak and not daring.

Wang Jie didn’t bother explaining. He was used to it.

At this point, only three materials remained for the undying body.

First: tell a proud, prickly woman, “I know you’re a spy.”

Second: hold the pass alone—one man to stop ten thousand.

Third: reject a peerlessly stunning woman.

The first was doable. The other two were ridiculous.

Where was he supposed to find a “peerlessly stunning woman” on command—and then reject her?

Wang Jie lay by the river, fishing lazily, and decided he’d figure it out later.

Under the sunlight of He Xu, he drifted into sleep.

In his dream, he saw his line hook a massive white bone that blotted out the sky—and then it vanished.

Wang Jie jolted awake, staring ahead.

That was something he’d once witnessed on the main battlefield.

Why had he dreamed of it now?

“Old Boss,” Old Nine contacted him. “Du Xian is here.”

Wang Jie’s eyes sharpened. “I’m coming.”

Soon, he sat facing Du Xian.

“Congratulations,” Du Xian said with a bright smile. “You advanced.”

Wang Jie shrugged. “Not easily. I nearly died.”

“If you can become an analyst for our Star Vault Vista,” Du Xian said, “then everything is worth it.”

She said it with the kind of certainty only the Star Vault Vista inspired.

Wang Jie didn’t argue. “Why are you here?”

Du Xian opened a light screen. “By tradition, before the tournament we publish a special report. People with enough fame can leave a line or two for the whole universe to see.”

Then she leaned forward. “What about you? Do you want to leave a line?”

She scrolled, showing him entries already submitted.

The first thing that caught Wang Jie’s eye was Gui Xiao Die’s message:

“Men, heh.”

Two words, dripping with contempt.

Wang Jie stared. “You’re letting her put that in?”

Du Xian laughed. “Anything goes.”

Wang Jie kept reading.

“One sword comes from the east—Xi Ci.”

“Killing formations fill the starry sky—Li Ao.”

“Either die, or win—Yuan Mu.”

“I’m not cross-eyed—Zhou Ye.”

Wang Jie blinked. “What is that?”

Du Xian pursed her lips. “I don’t know him either. But if he made it into the report, he probably has some ability.”

More entries followed.

“heaven-insect people, I’ll make you regret it—Han Lin.”

“I love you, Qing Kong—Qin Xiao Shu.”

There were countless more, but Wang Jie hadn’t even heard of most of the names.

Du Xian smiled at him. “So? Do you want to leave something? Or will you keep your head down? People aren’t talking about you much, but what they do say isn’t pleasant.”

“I’ll leave something,” Wang Jie said. “Everyone can see it?”

“Anyone who can access Star Vault Vista reports will see it,” Du Xian said. “And the pre-tournament issue sells the most.”

She tilted her head. “So—what do you want to write?”

Wang Jie smiled and spoke three words.

Du Xian’s smile vanished. Her eyes widened. “You’re serious?”

Wang Jie stood. “Just those three. Publish it.”

Du Xian stared at him for a long moment, then turned and left.

After she was gone, Qing Zheng and the others crowded in, demanding to know what he’d written. They had all assumed he would stay quiet.

Wang Jie only looked toward the distance, thinking of Shu Rang.

Master… it’s time to go high-profile.

—

A few days later, the special report dropped across the four Bridge-Pillars.

People had been waiting. The moment they got their hands on it, they devoured it.

And then the universe erupted.

In the depths of the void, Gui Xiao Die stood proud beneath the stars. She had written contempt—three impossibles. Who could meet them?

All trash.

“Miss Xiao Die,” someone said carefully, handing her the report. “Please look.”

Gui Xiao Die read one line and her face twisted in fury. “Is this Wang Jie insane? He dares to provoke me?”

In the Eastern Dipper Bridge-Pillar, Qin Xiao Shu stared, stunned. He’d thought the Lockforce cultivator understood restraint. So why—

Was he out of his mind?

Wu Ming read the report and laughed.

Shao Gu Chen slowly clenched his fist. Was this a provocation aimed at Cheng Yi Dao?

Yuan Mu’s gaze stayed calm, but an icy edge flashed in his eyes.

Curses rose from every direction, all triggered by Wang Jie’s three words:

“All of you need a beating.”

Simple. Ordinary.

And yet it slapped every participant in the face.

Gui Xiao Die looked down on men.

Wang Jie looked down on everyone.

He’d been quiet so long people had almost forgotten him. Now he became the universe’s favorite target again, condemned from every corner.

Even Black-White Heaven stared toward Suo Xing Jian in disbelief.

Wu Yuan, Han Ling, and the others were dumbfounded.

Was that really Wang Jie?

Zhi Xing Xue studied the report, her eyes deep.

Yes.

That was him.

Quiet?

Wang Jie had never been quiet on purpose. Back when he had only Ten Seals, he still dared to confront Zhi Qing’s faction head-on in Suo Xing Jian, fighting for her right to speak.

He had always been ruthless at his core.

A man who crawled up from the apocalypse of the Blue Star trial.

He didn’t fear anyone.

That was Wang Jie.

“Master,” Little Lan said anxiously, “isn’t he being… too loud?”

Zhi Xing Xue let out a slow breath. “Let him. He’s not someone we can control anymore.”

Then she added, softer, “And besides… this is who he is. The more he acts like this, the more confident I am. This Starry Sky Martial Tournament—Black-White Heaven will finally turn things around.”

The least surprised were Qing Zheng and the others.

They knew exactly what kind of person their Old Boss was.

Everyone else had been dancing on stage for months. Now it was his turn.

While the universe raged, Wang Jie didn’t care.

He took out his meditation cushion and sat down.

Tomorrow would come.

Sunlight fell across his face.

He looked into the distance, silently counting.

Time.

Hong Jian and the others watched with wide eyes as Wang Jie vanished from the meditation cushion—just like Flow had once done.

He was simply… gone.

And then he arrived in a strange place.

A colossal balance scale.

He stood on one end of it, surrounded by people—at least a hundred.

Every one of them was a Full-Star Realm cultivator participating in the tournament.

Above, a layer of “sky” spread like liquid mercury.

Below, endless darkness yawned like a bottomless abyss.

White above. Black below.

And all of them stood on the thin line between.

The Starry Sky Martial Tournament never followed a single format.

No one had expected to arrive like cargo weighed on a scale.

Soon, the rules became clear.

Rise and you die. Sink and you live.

Everyone stared into the darkness beneath them. It didn’t look like survival. It looked like oblivion.

But the rule was the rule.

To live, they had to press their end down—lifting the other end up, up, up, past that mercury sky.

After only a moment’s thought, someone attacked.

Jian Yi flung starforce upward, then drove it down hard.

The scale shuddered.

“What are you waiting for?” he roared. “Move!”

No one dared hesitate.