Point to Point: The Fencer’s Heart | Chapter 1 | Lightning on the Piste | Novela.app

The moment I lunged with that final slash, I knew it was over. Ling Xiao’s blade also pierced my shoulder. Moving with the piercing intensity of a white flash, he drove his attack forward until the flexed blade caught firmly beneath my shoulder. That single thrust felt as though I had collided with an iceberg. The speed of a sabre duel is incomparable to foil or épée; victory and defeat are decided in a heartbeat. My subconscious told me I’d lost. Our lights flickered on almost simultaneously. Through my mask, I watched the white-clad figure on the other end of the piste already recovering his stance. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of expression was hidden behind that black mesh—on a face so handsome and spirited. Ling Xiao stood profile-to-me, his mask angled slightly in my direction, though I couldn’t tell if he was actually looking at me. He used his ungloved left hand to flex his blade, his posture neither joyful nor somber. It was only then that I realized... The referee raised a hand, awarding the point to me. ...I won again? I didn’t dare look at Ling Xiao as I pulled off my mask. I didn’t know if he was looking at me either; I only caught the motion of him yanking his mask upward before I guiltily averted my eyes. It was as if his defeat was entirely because I’d snatched the last of the sweet and sour pork tenderloin he liked at the cafeteria yesterday. Clutching his mask and sabre, Ling Xiao turned and walked off the piste amidst a stunned silence from the crowd. The intra-team matches continued. Other teammates still had to draw lots to compete, but Ling Xiao didn’t stay to watch. He left the training hall immediately—just like the last two times we’d faced off, not lingering for even half a minute. The guy had always been a loner. I couldn't tell if he was acting out of spite, or if he simply didn't care about winning or losing. I hoped it was the latter. After shedding my protective gear and returning to the spectators, I didn't have the energy to respond to my teammates' congratulations. My teammate and roommate, Gao Dapang, slapped my shoulder. "Mai-zi, not bad! Three wins in a row—that’s real talent right there!" "You don't have to tell me," I sighed, collapsing listlessly onto the floor, listening to the *clink-clank* of blades clashing on the piste. "You're the winner, and you beat Ling Xiao to boot. Stop with the sighing; quit being so dramatic!" Sitting to my right, Lao Qi—who slept in the bunk above mine—gave me a playful kick. "You guys think beating Ling Xiao is easy? I'm exhausted." I let him kick me, staring at the ceiling with an indifferent gaze. Gao Dapang, on my left, scoffed. "Ling Xiao’s skill just isn't up to yours. That kid has been overhyped by those looks-obsessed media types. Now that he’s run into you, his true colors are finally showing. Tsk, tsk..." "Don't say that," I said. "The media has a job to do." To be fair, with a face like Ling Xiao’s, you’d have to be made of stone and completely devoid of romance not to become a visual stan. Though it was just an intra-team scrimmage and technically didn't prove much, I was just like the onlookers—I never expected to beat Ling Xiao three times in a row. I looked down, turning my hands over and over. I thought to myself: *Ling Xiao is a genius, so does that make me a genius among geniuses?* Sigh, even if I am, so what? Usually, I’d be gloating for ages, but today I wasn't happy at all. This wasn't the result I wanted. Honestly, Ling Xiao is infuriating. He’s supposed to be this star-studded fencing prodigy; why couldn't he just step it up and beat me at least once? *** Ling Xiao and I were selected for the national team at the same time. We both rose to fame as teenagers, undefeated before coming here. We had each won national youth championships in different years, so it was only natural that we became the focus of attention both inside and outside the team once we joined. I didn't know what Ling Xiao thought of me, but as for my feelings toward him... well, I’d actually been quite fond of him since our "spiritual connection" days. I’ve been fencing since elementary school. Growing up, I never met a match among my peers. Because of that, I even gave myself the online handle "Invincible Under Heaven." I knew plenty of people called me arrogant behind my back, but I truly, sincerely wanted to experience defeat. When no one around you can keep up, the feeling is nothing short of soul-crushing boredom. The first time I heard of Ling Xiao was back in ninth grade. I was at a classmate's house, and his parents were watching a fencing match on the sports channel. That was when I saw Ling Xiao on the piste, cutting through his opposition like a hot knife through butter. I forgot to even greet my classmate's parents; I just plopped down on the sofa and stared at the TV, entranced. I’d read match reports before. I’d seen people describe me as having "attacks as fast as lightning." To be honest, that kind of description was usually written by female reporters—cliché, sappy, and totally insincere. I wasn't at all curious about what "fast as lightning" actually looked like. After all, I was young then, participating in small city or provincial matches where I rarely saw recordings of myself. But the first time I saw Ling Xiao on TV, I understood. I accepted that cliché, insincere description, and I was even more impressed by the youth who truly deserved to be called "lightning." Just how fast can it be? Anyone who plays sabre knows it’s different from foil or épée. Scoring a point can take less than a second. Sometimes, both sides hit each other in the blink of an eye—so fast that both athletes think they scored first, pumping their fists and shouting in celebration. Only the referee knows who the point actually belongs to by looking at the scoring box. Thinking you won only to realize you didn't get the point isn't even embarrassing; it happens to almost every fencer. It’s routine. But Ling Xiao was different. I noticed that whenever he pumped his fist after an exchange—no matter how casually he did it—the point was inevitably his. I doubt many people noticed that detail, but once you did, it was enough to make you break into a cold sweat. Ling Xiao was like a machine; he never made a mistake. The moment he closed his fist was the moment of his victory. Not only were his physical reactions incredible, but his eyesight was also terrifyingly sharp. He was a genius with a reaction time of practically zero. Even if his opponent had the priority to attack, he could deflect the blow with effortless grace and strike back. In the space of a single breath, he would slash and cut, reversing the score! The word "lightning" suited him perfectly—so much so that it no longer felt right for me. When he wasn't attacking, Ling Xiao was a very quiet fencer. He didn't use many feints. Even when he forced an opponent to the backline, his footwork remained composed. Then, in the tiny gap between your heartbeats—*shua*—a flash of white light, and he’d hit you. That is true lightning: a bolt that appears suddenly in the darkness. The first time Ling Xiao competed in the National Youth Championships, he tore through the bracket all the way to the finals. I still remember that in the final match, he reached fifteen points in the first two periods, securing his victory with a gap between him and his opponent as wide as the heavens. When he took off his mask at the end of the match, I was both nervous and excited. As a shameful sucker for a pretty face, I was praying fervently in my heart: *Please, let this guy with the god-tier sword skills not be a chubby kid with freckles!* Then, the mask was lifted gently. I watched as a chin, a nose, and cheeks were revealed. My heart sank... and then it soared. It sank because he actually *did* have freckles! It soared because, even with those few freckles, they did nothing to diminish the high-altitude, mountain-peak beauty of that fifteen-year-old boy. Walking home that day, I felt like I was treading on clouds. It was as if those few inconspicuous freckles on that icy young man’s face had become something innocent and adorable. Back then, in my peak "edgy teen" phase, I felt a sudden surge of "I’ve finally found you." Finding an opponent who is your equal is hard enough, let alone one whose appearance is exactly your type. It happened just as I was losing my drive for Western fencing. Suddenly, as if by fate, this frog at the bottom of the well saw a dragon swimming across the sky above my world, and my passion for fencing was reignited. But fate likes to play tricks. Despite finally finding a worthy rival in Ling Xiao, we kept missing each other. I competed in two consecutive national tournaments that he skipped, and the one time he made it to the finals, I had to withdraw for personal reasons. And so, I brooded over him for many years until we were both recruited into the national team. They say "destiny" is just a way of saying that fated rivals are bound to end up on the same path. I’d been secretly following Ling Xiao for years, but I wasn't sure if he’d been "stalking" me too. I’m a proud person and I’m terrified of unrequited feelings. So, although I’d been searching everywhere for the boy who had dazzled me since the moment I stepped into the national team training base, I didn't dare make it too obvious. On that fated morning, I made sure I looked sharp and handsome. I’d even borrowed some hair gel from my childhood friend next door to style my hair. At nine o'clock, carrying my luggage, I strode into the national team’s training hall at Purple Mountain. Many new and old faces had already arrived. I stood by the entrance, trying to look low-key while sneakily scouting the room. "Look, is that Qiao Mai?" Someone spotted me. Soon, several pairs of eyes turned my way, whispering. I have to admit, I quite enjoyed the attention. Then, another voice rang out: "Ling Xiao is here too!" My heart skipped a beat. I almost blurted out, "Where? Where?" but I realized everyone’s gaze hadn't shifted away from me. To be precise, after landing on me, their eyes performed a sort of double-jump and landed right behind me. I felt a sudden spark of intuition. Suppressing the surge of excitement in my chest, I turned around— Ling Xiao, wearing a black V-neck sweater and carrying his luggage, was coming down the hallway behind me. I was so familiar with him, yet this moment felt entirely new. After a quick visual measurement, I realized Ling Xiao was actually taller than me. He seemed leaner, though; as an athlete, he was the slender type. I’d seen many of his past matches, but I wasn't familiar with how he looked in civilian clothes. Seeing him in person now, I felt that while he was like a bolt of lightning in motion, he was as elegant as a jade tree in repose. He was incredibly good-looking. It was as if he were born for fencing—possessing both aesthetic grace and lethal aggression. He wasn't just a piece of unpolished jade; he was a diamond! I gripped my duffel bag with both hands, my heart blooming with joy. The doorway was only so wide. I saw him, so he must have seen me. Just as I felt I was about to lose my cool, Ling Xiao tilted his head and glanced at me, as if we were sharing a telepathic moment. However, that glance didn't bring me a shred of joy. He looked at me as if I were a giant street sign, and with a "didn't take a wrong turn" deadpan expression, he walked straight past me. ...Wait, that’s not the right reaction, is it? Do I look like a landmark to you? Are you trying to say you’ve never "stalked" me? That you have no idea who I am? Heh, who would believe that? Who would believe that, you bastard! *** Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation ---|---|--- 凌霄 | Ling Xiao | Love interest, fencing prodigy. 乔麦 | Qiao Mai | Protagonist/Narrator, fencing prodigy. 麦子 | Mai-zi | Qiao Mai's nickname. 高大胖 | Gao Dapang | Teammate/Roommate (lit. Gao Big-Fat). 老七 | Lao Qī | Teammate (lit. Old Seven). 佩剑 | Sabre | One of the three disciplines of fencing. 花剑 | Foil | One of the three disciplines of fencing. 重剑 | Épée | One of the three disciplines of fencing. 剑道 | Piste | The strip on which fencing matches are held. 独孤求败 | Invincible Under Heaven | Qiao Mai's online handle (lit. "Lonely Seeking Defeat"). 紫山 | Purple Mountain | Location of the national training hall. 死偷卡 | Stalking/Stalker | Transliteration of the English word "stalker." 玉树芝兰 | Jade tree in repose | Idiom for an elegant, noble young man.