Chapter 12: Even If You Can’t Win, You Can Still Gross People Out
While the Sect Leader was running around gathering materials, Song Zhen was causing trouble at home.
After the recent competition, everyone had gone back to their respective homes.
Those who lost were naturally determined to improve, practicing even harder.
The winners didn’t want to be outdone next time, so they also trained diligently.
Overall, the new disciples’ performance was fairly good, and the elders were satisfied.
But Song Zhen was different. In addition to practicing, she loved picking fights—especially with her senior brothers and sisters.
Her excuse: “I need to spar with someone stronger than me to know if I’ve improved.”
So, naturally, someone was always coming to Ji Fan to complain.
“Senior Brother Ji, you have to deal with Junior Sister Song. She keeps challenging my junior brother every day!”
Challenging someone isn’t a problem in itself—they all spar privately sometimes—so Ji Fan was confused.
“What’s the problem?”
“Well, to my knowledge, your junior brother’s cultivation is far stronger than my junior sister’s. Even though she’s improving fast, she shouldn’t be able to beat your junior brother any time soon.”
The senior brother sighed deeply, his face full of worry:
“It’s not about whether she can win. Even though she can’t, she still tries to gross him out during the spar!”
“You don’t know how over-the-top Junior Sister Song Zhen can be. She has to annoy him even if she’s losing.”
Ji Fan paused for two seconds, then asked seriously: “Did she… steal his peaches?”
The senior brother froze. “No! What are you thinking?!”
Ji Fan tried again: “Did she tickle his armpits?”
Better than stealing peaches, perhaps—but still annoying.
“No!” The senior brother shook his head frantically.
Nothing here, nothing there — then what exactly did she do?
Ji Fan asked again, “So she poked your junior brother’s throat?”
Song Zhen had done the whole “poke the throat” thing before, so it wasn’t surprising, though it was undeniably disgusting.
After all, poking someone’s throat is genuinely nauseating — in the literal sense.
“No!” The senior brother shook his head frantically.
The Senior brother let out a sigh, “Neither that nor anything else you can imagine. She somehow got her wooden sword to emit the foulest stench imaginable. My junior brother is quite clean by nature and can’t stand such foul smells — he was about to lose his mind.”
Ji Fan took a deep breath and pinched the area between his nose and upper lip to steady himself.
Another one of her ridiculous tricks… can’t she just chill for a bit?
“Let’s go, take me to see it. I really want to see what she did to make that wooden sword.”
Making a sword that foul-smelling was really over the top — he had no idea what she was thinking.
Can’t she smell how awful it is herself? Killing a thousand enemies while hurting herself in the process.
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“Aaaah! Stay away from me! Throw that shit‑stirring stick in your hand away! That’s not how you’re supposed to spar!”
The senior brother who had been sparring with Song Zhen was frantically sprinting ahead, while Song Zhen chased after him at full speed with the wooden sword raised high.
Of course, she wasn’t using teleportation at this moment — she couldn’t rely on skills for everything.
“Senior Brother, come back! This isn’t a shit‑stirring stick, it’s my wooden sword!” Song Zhen shouted helplessly.
She really didn’t mean to make her sword like this.
One of the senior sisters had said that wooden swords also need maintenance, so she bought a bottle of wood polish and carefully applied it all over the sword. By the next morning, it had developed this smell.
The odor was a bit unpleasant, but the sword’s shine had improved. The smell was probably just a side effect.
After all, the wood polish solution was really cheap — that’s probably the downside of going cheap.
At first, she couldn’t stand it either, but after getting used to it a little, it was actually fine.
“Senior Brother, you can’t be so picky. If you ever face a demon that reeks like this, you’d be dead!”
Song Zhen had never faced demons herself, but she knew from books that some really do emit foul odors. Some demons arise from corpses, and the stench lingers.
Even the senior brothers and sisters had encountered such demons. They were tricky—some weren’t powerful, but the smell alone was exhausting.
Swinging the sword like this was also training. She couldn’t stay in the sect mountain forever.
To make the Sword Sect famous, she’d have to venture out. Strengthening her nose was part of her preparation.
“Junior Sister! I know you mean well, but I really can’t handle this smell. You’re the true heroine here; I surrender!”
The senior brother, running ahead, had tears streaming down his face. This little junior sister was too formidible—enduring this stench? Truly impressive. No wonder the Sect Leader chose her.
When Ji Fan and the senior brother arrived, they saw one running, one chasing—one crying, one full of determination.
Ji Fan and the senior brother: …
The senior brother, showing remarkable foresight, was already holding his breath.
“I told you this smell is intense. I have to say, this junior sister is truly extraordinary — not just anyone could stand this odor, and yet she can hold it in her hands!”
Seeing Song Zhen waving the sword, Ji Fan went pale.
He took a deep breath and roared: “Song Zhen! Get back here now!”
Song Zhen spun around. She saw Ji Fan’s blackened, furious face not far away.
“Fifth Senior Brother, I wanted to spar with this senior brother, but he won’t fight me! He thinks my sword stinks!”
Really? You’re aware it stinks?
Ji Fan went straight over and grabbed her back. Even after being caught, Song Zhen kept on complaining without stopping.
“I think this senior brother needs training. Can’t even handle a little smell! What if he faces a stinky demon later? He should learn from me. I can endure this kind of smell!”
When Song Zhen said this, she sounded quite proud — proud enough that it was almost asking to be scolded.
Ji Fan clenched his fists and ground his teeth.
“Hurry up and go back! If you want to spar, spar properly — leave all these shady tricks aside!”
With that, he snatched the sword from Song Zhen’s hands. The sharp, pungent smell hit him instantly, and Ji Fan nearly couldn’t hold back from vomiting on the spot.
Seeing his reaction, Song Zhen immediately stepped back several paces.
Don’t puke on me!
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