That morning,
after finishing their early lessons,
the three returned to the Sword‑Star Tower.
The lamps inside were still dim,
and only the lingering sword aura drifted through the air.
Xiǎo Chén broke the silence,
his voice low yet tinged with anticipation.
"So who should we strike first?
Feels like no matter which side we deal with,
the other will take the chance to stab us in the back."
Xuán Chén didn't answer immediately.
He gazed out the window for a moment,
eyes deep and unreadable,
before speaking softly.
"Exactly because of that…
we're missing a decisive catalyst."
Then he turned to Shī Tóngbǎi.
"Any news from your side?"
Shī Tóngbǎi rubbed his nose,
thinking for a moment before replying.
"Nothing about us, actually.
But something big happened outside."
"Something big?"
Xiǎo Chén raised a brow.
Shī Tóngbǎi grinned mysteriously.
"Senior brother,
you really haven't been paying attention to the outside world, huh?
In the outer courtyard—
someone from White‑Mirror Hall suddenly turned up dead."
Xiǎo Chén blinked,
then let out a cold laugh.
"People die in duels all the time.
What's the fuss?"
Shī Tóngbǎi shook his head.
"This one didn't die in a duel.
He was…"
He lowered his voice.
"…washed out by the rain.
The corpse was bruised purple—
not a fresh death.
And the place he was found was a deserted corner.
Looks more like someone dumped him there."
Xuán Chén's brows tightened.
"A private fight?"
Shī Tóngbǎi slapped his thigh,
eyes full of admiration.
"Knew it—Xuán Chén always thinks the fastest!"
But Xiǎo Chén frowned.
"If it was a private fight,
why hasn't anyone been arrested?"
Shī Tóngbǎi spread his hands.
"No idea.
Rumor says the White Lion suppressed the news.
He wants to investigate personally.
White‑Mirror Hall is in chaos—
everyone's hunting for the killer,
but nothing's leaked outside."
The three exchanged glances—
and the same realization struck them at once.
Xiǎo Chén suddenly grinned.
"Brother… isn't this our chance?"
Xuán Chén nodded slowly.
"Indeed.
If White‑Mirror Hall is busy cleaning up its own mess,
they'll have no time to bother us.
Which means…
we can strike Silver Mirror first."
Shī Tóngbǎi's heart skipped a beat.
He silently wailed inside.
These two senior brothers really can't sit still…
Everyone else avoids trouble—
they go looking for it.
Before he could speak,
a metallic clash rang out from below—
sharp, violent,
followed by a surge of qi so heavy
the entire floor trembled.
All three paled.
Who could ignore the sword aura
and force their way into the Sword‑Star Tower?
A moment later—
KENG!
A deafening metallic boom exploded through the tower,
accompanied by a blast of domineering qi
that shook the walls.
Xiǎo Chén, Xuán Chén, and Shī Tóngbǎi
rushed down from the second floor.
There, standing proudly in the center of the hall,
was a figure radiating raw, bestial power.
Sword aura tore at his sleeves,
but he didn't retreat an inch.
"ROAR—!"
It was the White Lion.
His face was slightly flushed,
his qi surging like wildfire
even under the tower's oppressive sword intent.
He grinned.
"Sword‑Star Tower…
truly worthy of its name!"
Xuán Chén's brows tightened.
"President Bái,
you didn't come here just to test the sword aura, did you?"
The White Lion bared his teeth in a smile.
"No need to tense up.
I'm not here to challenge the forbidden ground.
I came because I have business with you three."
Xiǎo Chén shifted slightly,
his voice low.
"Is it about the corpse?"
A sharp glint flashed in the White Lion's eyes—
then he laughed heartily.
"I know it wasn't you.
If it were you,
I'd actually admire your courage."
He paused,
and his tone dropped—
heavy, deliberate.
"What I want to discuss…
is something else."
His voice echoed through the stone tower,
clear and weighty.
He slowly lifted his head,
his gaze sweeping across the three of them,
a faint, unreadable smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
The White Lion spoke with a quiet dominance.
"That matter—
I know better than anyone.
The killer will surface sooner or later.
But that's not why I came to you personally."
Xiǎo Chén raised a brow.
"Then what does President Bái want from us?"
The White Lion didn't answer immediately.
He took a few steps forward,
hands clasped behind his back,
each footfall heavy,
like a mountain pressing down.
After a moment,
he spoke in a low voice.
"Silver Mirror."
Xuán Chén's eyes flickered,
though his expression remained calm.
"So President Bái wants us
to deal with Sītú Jìng?"
The White Lion laughed—
a booming sound,
yet cold as iron.
"More precisely,
I want you to disrupt Silver Mirror.
Keep them too busy to meddle elsewhere.
If you can weaken them directly—
even better."
His tone shifted,
a hint of mockery threading through,
yet beneath it
was an unmistakable, crushing authority.
"Relax.
As long as you turn Silver Mirror upside down for a while,
no one from White‑Mirror Hall will trouble you.
If someone disobeys my orders…
that simply means they don't respect me.
And people like that—
their deaths don't matter."
His words sounded casual,
but the pressure behind them
was like a beast breathing down their necks.
Xiǎo Chén let out a cold laugh,
meeting his gaze head‑on.
"Nice speech.
But why should we help you?"
The White Lion stopped walking.
When he turned back,
his eyes were sharp as blades.
"Because it benefits you—
and it benefits me.
You gain time to cultivate.
I gain room to hunt the real killer.
We take what we need.
Nothing more."
Xiǎo Chén pressed further.
"If that's the case,
why don't you discipline those who defy your orders yourself?
Why borrow our hands?"
The White Lion's gaze turned razor‑cold,
his voice dropping to a low rumble.
"Because to outsiders,
I am known for protecting my own.
If a disciple hasn't committed a grave offense,
and I personally punish him—
my authority collapses.
But if I need true discipline…
using outside force
keeps the foundation intact."
The pressure in the room thickened,
heavy as a mountain.
Then, suddenly,
the White Lion's coldness vanished.
A fierce grin spread across his face,
and a tremor of battle‑lust vibrated in his voice.
"Besides…
I look forward to the day I can fight you myself.
Boy—your fighting spirit on the stage last time
set my blood on fire."
Xiǎo Chén didn't back down.
His gaze sharpened like a spear.
"That day will come.
But before that—
answer me this.
If we stir up trouble for you,
and end up hated by both Silver Mirror and White‑Mirror Hall,
what guarantee do we have
that we won't become everyone's target?"
The White Lion paused—
then burst into booming laughter.
"Because—
the enemy of my enemy
is my friend.
Remember that."
With a sweep of his sleeve,
he turned and strode out,
his departing presence heavy and unshakable,
leaving the tower trembling in his wake.
Silence settled over the Sword‑Star Tower.
Xiǎo Chén let out a cold laugh.
"So he wants us to be his blade.
Fine.
At least it gives us a proper excuse to strike."
Shī Tóngbǎi frowned.
"But didn't Chief Dù announce
that no duels are allowed in the inner courtyard for three months?
If we act rashly, we'll be punished."
Xuán Chén's eyes cooled.
"Chief Dù said the inner courtyard.
He never mentioned—
the outer courtyard."
Xiǎo Chén's eyes lit up,
a smile curling at his lips.
"Exactly.
Silver Mirror has branches in the outer courtyard too.
We hit them there.
Force them to make the first move—
then the inner‑courtyard ban won't apply."
Shī Tóngbǎi slapped his thigh,
half laughing, half crying.
"You two…
that's just playing word games!
If we do that,
Silver Mirror will definitely snap and attack."
Xuán Chén replied calmly.
"That's the point.
If they break the rules first,
we retaliate—
and no one can fault us."
Xiǎo Chén added coldly,
"And better yet—
if they get desperate,
they'll send people who can't show their faces.
At that point…
not fighting back would be impossible."
Xuán Chén smiled faintly,
saying nothing—
but a shard of cold light flashed in his eyes.
Shī Tóngbǎi swallowed hard,
a chill creeping up his spine.
These two senior brothers…
they treat even disasters as whetstones.
This storm…
is only just beginning.