Point to Point: The Fencer’s Heart | Chapter 11 | Twice Lucky | Novela.app

Daily training always began with long-distance running. Gao Dabang was the type of athlete whose weight slightly exceeded the team standards, so he had a lot of opinions on the matter. Every time we ran to the far end of the track, out of Coach Hu’s line of sight, he would start grumbling. He’d complain that sabre fencing wasn't football, so why were we always practicing long-distance running? I told him he didn't understand—it was to give us a more robust physique. Lao Qi, running beside me, clicked his tongue in disagreement. "Old Hu is just bluffing idiots like you. Why the long distance? Because Old Hu has sadistic tendencies. He loves watching us line up and run ourselves ragged under his nose, first in the shape of an 'S,' then in the shape of a 'B.' Hey, are you even listening to me?" I was listening, but I was also watching Ling Xiao. I could do both. Today, the "Team Heartthrob" was wearing a black hoodie. As he ran, the little hood bobbed up and down behind him, giving him a bit of an unexpectedly cute "gap moe" vibe. I knew he came to the track to run laps every day before dawn, yet even now, running with us, he wasn't winded at all. I had to respect that lung capacity and his sheer obsession with discipline. The sky was a bit overcast today. Halfway through the second lap, raindrops began to fall without warning. Everyone stopped, looking up and making "oh" and "ah" sounds as if they’d never seen rain before in their lives—it was immature to the extreme! Only Ling Xiao didn't stop. He simply pulled up his hood and didn't miss a single step. Gao Dabang snorted. "What’s he acting cool for? Does he think he’s Zhang Qiling?" "He does look like him," I said. "He really does. Dabang, I didn't know you had such a sharp eye!" Lao Qi laughed. "If he’s Zhang Qiling, then you’re Wu Xie. I’d say you really are quite 'Tianzhen'—innocent and naive." My face flushed. "What are you talking about?!" "What's wrong with calling you Wu Xie? Why are you acting so bashful?" I looked at Lao Qi’s pure, clueless expression. Right, I forgot he was straight. When he read *The Grave Robbers’ Chronicles*, he didn't think about *that* side of things at all... Seeing me speechless, Lao Qi got even more hyped. He shouted as he ran, "Hey, Qiling! Why are you running so fast? Your Wu Xie is right here!" "Shut up!" I aimed a kick at him. Lao Qi twisted his waist to dodge. "What are you afraid of? He’s wearing earbuds; he can’t hear a thing!" "That doesn't mean you should keep blabbering!" I could catch up myself. I’d chase my own Qiling! Up ahead, Ling Xiao suddenly stopped while running. It scared the wits out of Lao Qi and me, and we slammed right into each other like two quails that had been chirping at an eagle, only for the eagle to flap its wings and send us rolling. Ling Xiao bent down and tightened his shoelaces. Lao Qi and I exchanged a look and let out a sigh of relief. Lao Qi mocked me, "Look at you, acting like such a coward!" I shot back, "I’ve seen enough of you!" "It’s normal for me to be intimidated by him; he’s stronger than me. But what are you afraid of? Didn't you beat him?" When he put it that way, I got confused too. Why did the taste of victory feel as fleeting and ethereal as the sweetness in bottled water? *** Ever since I’d "owed" Ling Xiao a photo, I didn't dare post any more selfies on Weibo. Now, when I went online, I just posted pictures of the sky at the training base, the clouds, the grass, and the base’s dogs. I had completely pivoted to a "literary and artistic" style. There was a user on Weibo named "Sword-Exalted" who followed me just to pick fights. He was the one who led the charge in tagging me in that long gossip post last time. No matter what I posted, he would mock me in the comments. For example, when Lao Qi and I took a photo with our swords in a Jedi Knight cosplay, he commented: *So much joy for a mentally challenged child.* You’re the one who’s challenged! Your ancestors' brains were split into four quadrants, and by the time it got to you, it had fragmented into 2048 pieces! Today, I posted another update: *Another internal match next week. Looking forward to it!* He commented: *North is this way.* What did that mean? I sat on the toilet for five minutes pondering it before it dawned on me—he was mocking me, saying that because I’d won once by a fluke, I’d "lost my bearings" and didn't know which way was North. I had to restrain the primordial power surging within me to keep from picking up my laptop and shaking his avatar out so I could stomp on it. In the end, I decided to follow Lao Qi’s advice and use the "Art of Ignoring." However, I couldn't quite figure it out. "Who do you think this person is? Why is he always giving me a hard time?" "Maybe it’s someone you knocked out of a tournament once, and they’ve held a grudge ever since," Lao Qi said while changing his clothes. "Is it you?" I asked, immediately suspicious. "Are you suffering from a persecution complex? If it were me, would you still be sitting there peacefully on the internet?!" "Then what would you do?" "I’d use your toothbrush to scrub the toilet, got it?" Damn, you really can't judge a book by its cover! While Lao Qi was changing, I quickly hid my toothbrush in my locker. Lao Qi turned around and gave me a smack on the head. Simply ignoring him wasn't satisfying enough. After thinking it over, I deleted my previous post and wrote a new one: *If I win, how about I post a new cosplay for everyone! Anything you want to see?* The fans were naturally all for it. That idiot "Sword-Exalted" couldn't stay quiet, of course. He replied: *And if you lose? Can you film yourself eating shit?* Heh, for that comment alone, I refused to lose! At the critical moment, Lao Qi logged on and used a side account to reply to the guy: *If Maizi wins, will certain people eat shit? Though we don't care to see you do it. You smell as bad as shit anyway; we can't tell if you're eating it or if it's eating you. [doge]* Lao Qi’s insults were top-tier. The guy was silenced instantly and vanished. Lao Qi and I high-fived in celebration. Just then, we suddenly heard a "clatter" from the hallway outside the dorm, like the sound of a phone hitting the floor. Lao Qi and I looked at each other, our hearts skipping a beat. Could this person who hated my guts actually be on our team?! I rushed to open the door, but the hallway was empty. "Maybe it was a coincidence," I said. Lao Qi didn't say anything. He patted my shoulder and was about to head back into the room when the door to the dorm diagonally across from us opened. Ling Xiao walked out with his bag over his shoulder, put on his headphones, and gave us a nod. I felt a bit lightheaded. Watching his retreating back, I nudged Lao Qi’s shoulder. "The Team Heartthrob actually nods at me now." "You idiot, you seem to have forgotten I’m standing right here." I looked at him as if I were looking at a giant Swarovski crystal chandelier. "...Why are you still standing here?" *** The internal match arrived before I knew it. Although I’d talked big, I started regretting it the moment I "set that flag." I even dreamed I was soaking in a pool of filth. On the day of the match, an ominous premonition grew stronger. I paced back and forth in the dorm. "It’s over, it’s over. If I lose, I have to livestream eating shit. Why did I set that flag..." Lao Qi said, "Are you stupid? That guy told you to eat it; you never agreed to it." I wasn't sure, so I checked my phone. When I saw that I indeed hadn't agreed, I leaned back in my chair and breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed my IQ was still reliable at crucial moments. But the situation still wasn't great. If I really lost and got ridiculed by that "Sword-Exalted" jerk, it wouldn't be much different from eating shit. Before the match, I dawdled in the locker room while changing. Everyone around me was chatting and laughing; they all took the internal matches quite lightly. I was the only one who felt like a mountain was pressing down on me. Once most of my teammates had left, I sat on the long bench, unable to bear the pressure, and started sighing. Then, out of nowhere, Ling Xiao walked in. Is this guy part cat?! I stood up abruptly, facing my locker door, not daring to make a sound. It was just me in the locker room now. Someone like Ling Xiao, who couldn't "read the room," couldn't really be considered human; he was more like a humanoid AI. Since I was still shirtless, I tried to stay calm as I found the neck hole of my tank top and pulled it over my head. In the small mirror hanging on the locker door, I saw Ling Xiao take off his headphones and remove his hoodie. He changed with fluid, effortless motions, as if I were invisible. My soul felt like it had been dislocated; I just stood there like an idiot, watching him change from start to finish, right until he bent over to tie his laces and stood up with his mask and sabre. In my guilt, my hand on the locker door twitched. The small mirror reflected a flash of bright light, which—of course—hit Ling Xiao right in the eyes. Now, even the AI seemed to lose his composure from my interference. He frowned and glanced toward me. I was still struggling with my tank top. Ling Xiao walked to the door, then suddenly stopped, tilted his head, and asked me: "What do you want to say to me?" That slow, deep, resonant voice absolutely sank me. What did I want to say? I didn't know... Ling Xiao nodded to himself. "I understand." Then he left. What do you understand, big brother?! After that encounter, I could practically smell the "filth" already. So, when I once again reached 15 points first and beat Ling Xiao, I wasn't actually sure what had happened. Ling Xiao’s loss was perfectly logical and convincing. It was the kind of match where he could have checkmated you at any moment, but just happened to slip up and lose. If winning once wasn't enough to determine who was better, then winning twice in a row—even if I didn't clearly have the upper hand—had already caused more people on the team to side with me. I felt like something was wrong. How could Ling Xiao be so unlucky that he lost to me twice in a row? Was I really a once-in-a-century genius of the Chinese fencing world? And were the people I considered stronger than me actually far behind me? Was Qiao Mai actually a "humble genius" character? After the match, I remained in disbelief for a long time. Standing before the restroom mirror, I looked down at my hands. Ling Xiao suddenly walked past behind me again, shaking his head. How does this guy walk without making a sound? Does he have cat paws for feet?! *** ### Glossary Table Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation --- | --- | --- 高大胖 | Gao Dabang | A teammate's name; literally "High Big Fat." 老胡 | Lao Hu | Coach Hu. 反差萌 | Gap moe | A Japanese-derived term (fancha meng) referring to a character having traits that contradict their usual persona in a cute way. 张起灵 | Zhang Qiling | A main character from the popular novel series *The Grave Robbers' Chronicles* (Daomu Biji), known for being cool, silent, and powerful. 吴邪 | Wu Xie | The protagonist of *The Grave Robbers' Chronicles*, often paired with Zhang Qiling in fan works. 天真 | Tianzhen | Meaning "innocent" or "naive"; also Wu Xie's nickname in *The Grave Robbers' Chronicles*. 剑绝天下 | Sword-Exalted | A Weibo username; literally "Sword Surpasses the World" or "Sword Peerless Under Heaven." 找不着北 | Lost one's bearings | Literally "cannot find North"; an idiom meaning to be confused, cocky, or to lose one's head. 低音炮 | Deep, resonant voice | Literally "low-frequency cannon/woofer"; used to describe a deep, attractive male voice. 人形AI | Humanoid AI | Used to describe Ling Xiao's cold, efficient, and detached personality.