Chapter 45: Undercurrents on the Airship

Description

The boarding notice arrived late the following evening.

By the time they boarded and set sail, the daylight had already dimmed, and at the edge of the deep blue sky, only the remnants of the sunset lingered, like embers about to be extinguished.

Bai Yao stepped onto the boarding ramp of the airship and swept her gaze across the structure of this massive vessel.

The upper level had three stories of pavilions, the top floor adorned with carved beams and painted rafters, clearly suited for important figures to reside in.

The lower cabins were divided into three decks.

She glanced at them as she passed, noticing no spiritual fluctuations from formation restrictions within, but instead a number of military weapons piled up.

Blades, large mounted crossbows, and armor were haphazardly stacked in wooden crates, carrying the stale scent of rust and tung oil.

Bai Yao’s nose twitched slightly, and she sneered inwardly.

‘Using war preparations as a pretext to cover up the fact that they’re transporting the Huntian Copper Dragon to Tianye City.’

‘This Zhou Family certainly knows how to put on a complete performance.’

‘Unfortunately, even if I wanted to get off this ship now, it wouldn’t be easy to slip away.’

She didn’t linger, following the servant’s lead straight toward the central pavilion hall.

Pushing open the door and stepping inside, the hall was dimly lit, with eight oil lamps flickering on the beams and pillars, casting long, stretched shadows.

Aside from Zhou Wangchuan and Lin Biaotou, there were eight guards of unknown identity, including Bai Yao herself—all of them skilled young practitioners of the Hundred Refinements Realm.

Some sat, some stood, some crossed their arms, some leaned against pillars, and one rogue cultivator of the Mo Dao, who looked far from trustworthy, was cleaning his nails with a dagger.

There was also a purple-robed swordsman with a sword at his waist, who shared the same middle-stage Hundred Refinements Realm cultivation as Zhou Wangchuan.

That man appeared to be just past twenty, with fair skin, yet his eyes carried an air of arrogance born from being pampered all his life.

When he saw Bai Yao enter, his gaze paused on her face for a moment, then slid down to her waist, a barely concealed lecherous glint flashing in his eyes.

Meanwhile, everyone looked up at the late-arriving Bai Yao, their eyes filled with disdain toward a fellow cultivator.

Especially the purple-robed swordsman.

Priding himself on being an outer disciple of the Jiejian Gate, a second-rate immortal sect of the Xu Kingdom, and the highest-cultivated among the eight, he seemed to believe he was naturally destined to be everyone’s leader.

Seeing that Bai Yao appeared to be no more than thirteen or fourteen, with skin so delicate it seemed it might break at a touch, and possessing such exceptional beauty, he instinctively assumed she was nothing more than a naive, inexperienced girl—a pretty little vase who desperately needed some real-world experience.

With a single glance, he had already conjured up evil thoughts of coveting her body, and he also wanted to knock her down a peg in front of everyone to establish his authority.

Bai Yao ignored those stares and went straight to the most secluded corner seat, sitting down and crossing her legs.

She propped her elbow on the armrest and rested her chin on her hand, her gaze going distant, lost in thought.

Seeing her like this, the purple-robed swordsman curled his lips and rose, walking over.

“So you’re the Lady Bai Ling who caused such a stir at Chenfeng Port?”

“You sure arrived late enough.”

“Making all these people wait for just you—quite the airs you’re putting on.”

Bai Yao didn’t even raise her eyelids, merely tapping her fingers lightly on the armrest twice.

The purple-robed swordsman’s expression darkened slightly.

He hadn’t expected this young girl, with her modest cultivation, to dare treat him with such an attitude.

His voice immediately rose by a few notches.

“This young master is talking to you.”

“Deaf, are we? Hm?”

“Judging by your age and that unsteady aura, you’ve probably just broken through to the Hundred Refinements Realm, haven’t you?”

“Don’t tell me that old senior of the Heavenly Blade gave you a pass just because you’re pretty…”

Before he could finish, his gaze swept back and forth across Bai Yao’s face, his meaning obvious without needing to be said.

Some in the hall let out low snickers, some frowned, and others glanced over with a spectator’s mentality.

Bai Yao finally looked up.

There was no anger in her eyes, not even a ripple, as if she were looking at a piece of inferior merchandise sitting on a shelf, with the same contempt one reserves for garbage.

“Are you done?”

The purple-robed swordsman was taken aback.

“What do you mean?”

“Jiejian Gate?”

Bai Yao tilted her head, the curve of her lips unclear whether it was a smile or contempt.

“An outer disciple, middle-stage Hundred Refinements Realm, the highest cultivation among the eight—so you think you’re strong?”

She paused, glanced at Zhou Wangchuan, and a slight smile tugged at her lips, though it never reached her eyes.

“Ah… the leader is still sitting in the main seat.”

Her gaze swept over the sword at the purple-robed swordsman’s waist, then back to his face, her tone unhurried.

“You’re the king in a deck of cards, the wildest one in Gotham.”

“That little show you put on for everyone was quite entertaining.”

Although no one could understand the first half of Bai Yao’s sentence at all, anyone who wasn’t a fool could hear the mockery in it.

The purple-robed swordsman’s face flushed red in an instant, and his right hand had already pressed onto his sword hilt.

“You!”

“What about me?”

Bai Yao continued to rest her chin on her hand, the teasing in her tone now completely undisguised.

“Those thoughts and intentions of yours… ah, you really can’t hide them at all.”

“And those eyes are too dirty.”

“Even a madam in a brothel in the mortal world knows how to conceal better than you.”

“An outer disciple of a second-rate sect dares to call himself young master?”

“Knock it off already.”

The purple-robed swordsman trembled with rage, his sword already half-drawn from its sheath, faint glimmers of cold light reflecting off his flushed face.

Just as the atmosphere was about to reach a breaking point, Zhou Wangchuan stepped forward, placing himself between the two.

A standard business smile hung on his face.

“Everyone, the voyage will take five days.”

“The skies up here are vast and empty, and this airship isn’t military grade.”

“The crossbows have limited range, and there’s a chance sky pirates might try to board us.”

“When that happens, we’ll need to work together.”

“Why harm our goodwill over a mere argument of words?”

He turned to the purple-robed swordsman and gave a slight nod.

“Brother Zhao, Lady Bai is young and speaks without restraint.”

“I hope you can be magnanimous.”

The purple-robed swordsman let out a cold snort, sheathed his sword, and stepped back two paces, though his eyes burned with venomous malice.

Bai Yao said nothing, merely pursing her lips and tapping her fingers on the armrest twice more.

Zhou Wangchuan then looked at everyone and said with a serious expression.

“When the time comes, you need only hold the third floor of the pavilion.”

“If anyone dares to attack, they won’t get any advantage.”

Bai Yao suddenly spoke up, her voice laced with mockery, as if deliberately exposing something.

“And what if a late-stage Hundred Refinements Grandmaster shows up among the attacking sky pirates?”

“Then wouldn’t we all be finished?”

Zhou Wangchuan smiled faintly, and hidden within that smile was a confidence Bai Yao couldn’t quite understand.

“Lady Bai need not worry.”

“We have our own countermeasures.”

Bai Yao sneered inwardly.

‘Their own countermeasures?’

‘Up here in the sky, they’d have better luck growing wings and flying away.’

Everyone dispersed to their respective guard posts.

Bai Yao walked toward the ship’s railing.

Night wind poured in through the gaps in the deck, though a simple wind-repelling formation blocked most of the chill.

A gray sparrow flew back and landed on her shoulder, chattering away.

“Xiao Baiyao, that Young Prince Ning has come as well, and the Huntian Copper Dragon is on the third floor.”

“The one secretly protecting him is none other than that Grandmaster who concealed his aura yesterday.”

Bai Yao gave a slight nod, her gaze turning toward the top-floor pavilion, where lights blazed bright yet revealed nothing.

“This Ji Xian may be young, but he certainly has the guts to throw himself into the game.”

She paused, then said in a low voice.

“Senior, please investigate the situation in the lower decks’ hidden compartments.”

“Since a Grandmaster has truly appeared, I need to find myself an escape route.”

Soon, the sparrow fluttered its wings and flew off, melting into the night.

Bai Yao leaned against the ship’s railing as the night wind whipped her hair into disarray.

Just as she was about to close her eyes and rest, the sound of footsteps came from behind her.

Bai Yao turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse from the corner of her eye—it was the purple-robed sword bearer from earlier.

He was walking over slowly, his gaze arrogant, looking at her with the same lecherous expression one would give a personal plaything.

“Lady Bai, you seemed pretty cocky just now, didn’t you?”

“Looks like you’re really just an inexperienced sect girl who doesn’t know the way of advance and retreat in this world.”

“Want this young master to teach you a thing or two?”

Bai Yao let out an almost imperceptible “tch,” just about to tell him to get lost, when the corner of her eye caught something at the turn on the other side—

A figure of a youth stood there, his fists clenched tight.

“Young Prince Ning?”

“Why is he coming after me too?”

Bai Yao was briefly stunned, then a hint of an ambiguous smile quickly spread across her face.