Please Stop Spreading Rumors About Me — They Keep Coming True Chapter 38: Mutual Respect (Sort Of)

The strangest part ca after. After the roar had faded, after the sky still held her na — that’s when Bai Qing ca to find on our wall one last ti.

She wasn’t the sa person who’d put a sword through my door, all those weeks ago in Tianlu. She wasn’t even the sa person who’d told about her teacher on this wall. Sothing in her had finally set down a weight she’d carried for twenty years, and she moved lighter for it. When she sat beside , the old furious tension was just... gone.

"I got it," she said quietly, looking up at her na, still glowing faintly above the capital. "The thing I’ve been chasing my whole life. The world sees now. Ten million people. I’ll never be unknown again. What happened to my teacher can never happen to ." She was quiet a mont. "I should feel finished. Whole. The wound should be closed."

"But it isn’t," I said. I knew, because I had the thing she’d chased. I knew exactly how little it had ever filled.

"No," she admitted. "It’s — strange. It’s wonderful, don’t mistake , I’ll treasure it till I die. But it’s not what closed the wound." She turned and looked at , and her eyes were clear. "You closed it. Not just now. Before. On this wall, weeks ago, when there were no ten million people watching — when it was just you and in the dark and you said you saw . That you watched my fight. That you knew what I was." Her voice was very steady. "That’s what I actually needed, Lin Bo. Not the world. Not the sky. One person, who knew the real — the unglorious, overlooked, true — and chose to see it anyway. The whole world’s belief is a beautiful thing. But it’s the cheap thing. That’s the real one. And I had it from you before you ever gave the other."

I didn’t know what to say. So I said the honest thing.

"That’s what Tao Tao said," I told her. "About . That anyone can believe in a hero. The rare thing — the real thing — is being known. All the small true unglamorous of you, known, and kept anyway." I looked out at the dark. "I think maybe that’s the only thing in this whole fa-drunk world that’s actually worth anything. Everything else is just... belief. Loud and bright and empty. But being known — that’s the thing they can’t manufacture. That’s the thing even the Empire can’t touch."

Bai Qing was quiet for a long mont.

"I know what I’m going to do," she said finally, and there was wonder in it — the wonder of soone who has just found a door they didn’t know was there. "After all this. When the tournant’s done." She looked up at her na in the sky. "I have all this fa now. Real, permanent, mine. And I used to think the point of fa was to never be erased." A slow breath. "But you can’t use being-rembered for yourself. It just sits there. What you can do—" her jaw set, fierce and new "—is spend it. On the gate. On the naless old n, and the unknown schools, and the quiet real ones the famous step on because no one would notice." She turned to . "There are a thousand teachers like mine out there right now, Lin Bo, about to be erased for the cri of being unknown. And I’m famous enough now that if I stand at their gate — if I see them, na them, make the world look — they can’t just be wiped away anymore. I can be for them what nobody was for him." Her voice was low and certain. "That’s what the fa is for. Not so I’m never forgotten. So I can make sure they aren’t. I’m going to be the one who rembers. The one who stands at the gate."

And there it was. The warrior who’d spent twenty years running from the gate, turning around to stand at it, for everyone else. Her teacher’s death, finally becoming sothing other than a wound.

"He’d be proud of you," I said quietly. "Your teacher. Not for the fa. For that."

She smiled — a real one, the warm rare kind I’d only started seeing lately. For a mont she just looked at , and sothing passed between us that wasn’t rivalry and wasn’t quite only friendship. Sothing warr that neither of us said out loud, because it wasn’t the ti, with the final two days away and the First Author watching and the whole sky uncertain.

"You’re a very strange man, Lin Bo," she said softly. "The most famous fraud in the world, and you spend every scrap of it trying to make other people real." She bumped my shoulder with hers, gently. "When this is over — if we survive it — I’d like to know the clerk better. The actual one. Not the demon-slayer." A pause, and the smallest flush. "He makes the rest of it worth surviving, I think."

"I’d like that," I said, and ant it. We left it there, warm and unfinished, which was the right place to leave it.

She went to sleep. I stayed up.

Three things were sitting heavy in , under the warmth.

The first was the Scroll, which had gone very quiet after the match, and which finally said, soft and aching: "That’s what they were like. The one before. They used it to give, too — every chance they got. The brighter they got, the more they gave it away." A long pause. "It’s why I loved them. It’s why I love—" it stopped, the way it always stops. "You’re so much like them, talent. It frightens . Because the world erased the last person who used this gift to make others real. I don’t— I can’t watch it choose the sa thing twice."

The second was the First Author, in her dark box. I’d felt her watching the whole semifinal — felt her attention sharpen at the exact mont I turned the belief outward, used it to lift soone instead of myself. Whatever she’d been deciding about , I’d just shown her sothing she hadn’t expected. And I didn’t know if a man who gives his power away reads to her as more worth keeping, or more dangerous. With her kind, I suspected it could go either way.

The third was the worst.

Sowhere in the high tiers, Xue Ningzhi had watched direct the belief — aim it, on purpose, with intention — and I knew, with cold certainty, what she’d just learned. Until tonight she’d thought the ghost was a wild thing, a flood I couldn’t steer, an accident. Tonight she’d watched grab the flood with both hands and point it.

Which ant the hand on my shoulder wasn’t just real.

It was being used.

And a tool that’s being used — I understood this, lying awake with my na and Bai Qing’s both glowing in the sky — a tool can be taken.

"Scroll," I said quietly into the dark. "Tomorrow she’s going to co for you. Isn’t she. Now that she knows you can be aid."

"Yes," the Scroll whispered. "I think she is."

"Then we’d better be ready," I said, with a calm I absolutely did not feel.

I held the noodle pot all night. Didn’t sleep. I thought about brightness gone from the sky, and gates, and the people I’d carried into the light — and I was very, very afraid that the cost the world had been promising was finally about to co due.