After three grueling months of relentless practice, the teams were finally ready to take the field and face off in a long-anticipated game of ball. Tension crackled in the air as the Mao brothers locked eyes, their glares sharp as blades. Without a word, both turned their faces away, refusing even the smallest gesture of sportsmanship, let alone a handshake. Xue Laohu, standing nearby, ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply, the weight of their rivalry evident in his expression.
A coin was produced to decide who would go first. The brothers stared intently as it was tossed into the air, spinning in a blur of silver. "Tails!" Sect Leader Mao declared, his voice sharp with determination. "Heads," his brother said calmly, a smirk playing on his lips as the coin landed, revealing heads. Sect Leader Mao muttered something under his breath, barely audible but undeniably bitter, while his brother snickered with quiet triumph.
The players' uniforms, crafted with care by Xue Tuzi, gleamed under the sunlight. They were as white as freshly fallen snow, accented by crisp blue lines that added a touch of elegance. Across the chest, the characters for "Mount Dingbu" stood proudly, precisely as Xue Laohu had envisioned. "A-Tuzi, these uniforms are clean!" Xue Laohu exclaimed with a broad grin, his voice brimming with pride. "You look like a pro! Back in my hometown, everyone would be fawning over you."
Xue Tuzi, caught off guard by the unexpected praise, tilted his head down, his cheeks burning red. He tried to hide his embarrassment, but the endearing flush only added to his charm. Xue Laohu's "hometown" was a place he often spoke of—a mysterious land no one had ever heard of. Then again, given that Xue Laohu was over a thousand years old, his tales of this enigmatic place were taken as just another of his many quirks.
As the teams took their places on the field, the atmosphere shifted. A big, burly man with a towering frame stepped up to the announcer's booth, a handful of lotus seeds in his hand. He chewed thoughtfully before standing tall, his protruding belly and deep voice commanding attention. "Welcome, everyone, to today's match!" he bellowed. "Sect Mount Dingbu versus Sect Mount Dingfeng! Today's game is sure to be a spectacular showdown. I'm Ying Wu, your announcer for the day!"
The crowd erupted in a loud jarring of cheers and applause. Demons and humans alike filled the stands, their voices merging into a thunderous roar. Flags bearing sect emblems fluttered in the breeze as spectators took their seats, eagerly anticipating the clash between these two rival teams. The stage was set, and the game was about to begin.
Ying Wu stepped up to the booth, clearing his throat as he began to announce the starting lineup for Sect Mount Dingfeng. Cheers and boos rippled through the crowd, their energy crackling like a summer storm. The lineup brought mixed reactions, with fans shouting encouragement while others jeered loudly.
On the sidelines, Li Zhameng fidgeted nervously, his fingers gripping the hem of his uniform. He felt a steady hand rest on his shoulder, and a calm voice followed. "Relax," Xue Laohu whispered, his warm smile both comforting and confident. Before Li Zhameng could reply, Ying Wu's booming voice rang out again.
"And now, for Sect Mount Dingbu…" The crowd erupted once more, a chaotic blend of applause and boos filling the air.
"On First Base, Li Zhameng!" Ying Wu declared.
Li Zhameng stumbled forward, his feet catching awkwardly as he jogged toward his position. Embarrassed, he tilted his baseball cap low to shield his face from view. Across the baseline, a group of young women giggled, their voices cutting through the crowd. "Good luck, Gege!" they called out, waving enthusiastically. Despite his nerves, Li Zhameng's lips twitched into a shy smile.
"On Second Base, Grandmaster Xue!"
Xue Laohu strode to his base with purpose, his face set in a mask of steely determination. He slapped his gloved hand rhythmically, his stance unwavering. The crowd quieted momentarily, their anticipation obvious as they watched the legendary Grandmaster take his place.
"At Shortstop, the Gu Worm Jiao Jiao!"
A ripple of astonishment spread through the spectators as Jiao Jiao leaped from Xue Tuzi's hands, his tiny body squirming with energy. Determined, the little worm made his way to the shortstop position, his uniform—custom-made by Xue Tuzi—padded to fit snugly. A miniature baseball cap, secured with a delicate string, perched on his head. The crowd let out a collective aww, their hearts melting at the sight of the tiny but fierce competitor.
Lord Yanhua, reclined comfortably on a cushioned seat, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched from the stands. Beside him sat Shilui, his wife, an ethereal beauty with a delicate yet confident demeanor. Shilui's slender fingers held a plump grape, which he offered with a teasing smile to Lord Yanhua, who eagerly accepted it, his lips brushing Shilui's fingers. Lord Yanhua's arm wrapped possessively around Shilui's waist, drawing him closer, his touch firm but tender. Between moments of laughter and conversation, Lord Yanhua would press adoring kisses to Shilui's cheek.
"At Third Base, Sect Leader Mao!"
Sect Leader Mao's entrance was nothing short of regal. He walked with an air of grace and authority, completely unfazed by the cascade of boos and shouts directed his way. His focus, however, broke when a shrill voice rang out above the chaos. "Best of luck, Master!" his wife called, waving a handkerchief with fervor. Beside her, their son cheered wildly for his father. Sect Leader Mao's stern expression softened momentarily, a flicker of pride crossing his features.
"In Left Field, Fei Fen. In Center Field, Xiao Zongzi. And in Right Field, Fei Hong!"
As the Fei Twins and Xiao Zongzi took their positions, a new wave of whistles and boos surged through the crowd. Among the spectators, a disciple held up a brightly painted sign that read, We Love You, Fei Twins! The sign wobbled slightly as they jumped with excitement, their enthusiasm infectious. Seated beside them was their Shizun, Elder Yansen, who watched the scene with an indulgent smile, nodding her disciples' exuberance.
"Starting pitcher for Mount Dingbu—Xue Tuzi!" Ying Wu's voice boomed across the field.
The announcement was met with a loud whistles and catcalls. Voices from the crowd called out, some with cheers, others with suggestive remarks that cut through the noise. "Suck me Tuzi!" one voice teased, while others hollered lewd comments that drew laughter from the rowdier spectators. Xue Tuzi kept his head low, as he jogged toward the mound. His shoulders were tense, his gaze fixed on the dirt beneath his feet. Despite the overwhelming attention, he gripped the baseball tightly, determined to drown out the noise.
"And catching for Mount Dingbu—Shudu!"
The reaction was instant and thunderous. Boos erupted from every corner of the stadium, a deafening wall of sound that seemed to shake the very air. Both demons and humans jeered, their disdain for Shudu uniting them in rare agreement.
Amidst the hostility, one figure stood out. A snake demon in the stands remained utterly captivated, his gaze locked on Shudu with an intensity that bordered on obsession. His lips moved, mouthing words no one else could hear, while his eyes shone with an almost hypnotic adoration. Beside him, his sister tugged furiously at his arm, her face contorted in anger. "Get over it already!" she hissed, her voice cutting through his trance. But the snake demon barely flinched, his attention entirely consumed by the man on the field.
Shudu stepped into position, his movements deliberate and precise, as if the overwhelming animosity in the crowd didn't faze him. He adjusted his mask with calm efficiency, his expression unreadable beneath it.
"Ma-lang," a gentle voice murmured, breaking through the hum of the crowd. The demon horse turned his head toward his wife, her eyes glimmering with curiosity. "Who do you think will win?" she asked, leaning slightly toward him.
He stroked his chin thoughtfully before replying. "I'm not too sure," he admitted, his deep voice steady. "I'm unfamiliar with this game, but I do hope Dingbu wins." His words were calm, but his tail flicked slightly, betraying his subtle excitement.
On the field, Ying Wu's voice rang out again. "First pitch underway!"
Xue Tuzi hurled the ball toward home plate, the motion quick but slightly unsteady. The batter swung and connected with the ball, sending it high but foul. "Foul ball!" the umpire declared.
In the stands, Ma-lang's wife furrowed her brow. "I don't understand this game at all," A-Fengmi admitted, her tone a mix of frustration and amusement.
Ma-lang leaned closer to her, his shoulder brushing hers as he explained. "It's about strategy and precision," he said, gesturing toward the field. "But right now, Xue Tuzi and Shudu will have to develop some kind of chemistry. It seems like Xue Tuzi's missing Shudu's signals." He exhaled deeply, a faint whine escaping as he continued. "The relationship between pitcher and catcher is crucial in baseball. Without that connection, the game falls apart."
The next pitch was met with a sharp crack, sending the ball high into the air. "A pop-up to left center field!" Ying Wu announced. "Xiao Zongzi is under it—makes the catch! One out."
Though Xiao Zongzi's defense steadied the team momentarily, Xue Tuzi still struggled to find his rhythm on the mound. His throws were inconsistent, but through sheer grit, he managed to retire the side. The crowd cheered as the players switched, with Sect Mount Dingbu now up to bat.
"Leading off, Li Zhameng, followed by Fei Fen, and then Grandmaster Xue!" Ying Wu called.
Li Zhameng approached the batter's box nervously, his grip on the bat tight enough to turn his knuckles white. His heart pounded as he muttered under his breath, "Here goes nothing."
The pitcher from Sect Mount Dingfeng wound up and delivered the ball with a crackling force. "Strike!" the umpire bellowed.
Li Zhameng tried to refocus, but his nerves betrayed him. Two more pitches zipped past his bat. "Strike two! Strike three! You're out!" the umpire shouted, his voice echoing across the field.
Dejected, Li Zhameng trudged back toward the dugout, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The crowd's mixed reactions—some sympathetic, others mocking—buzzed in his ears.
Xue Laohu greeted him with a kind smile, patting his head affectionately. "It's okay," he said, his tone reassuring. "It's only the first inning. Shake it off—we've got plenty of game left." Li Zhameng nodded weakly, glancing at his teammates who offered quiet encouragement.
As the innings wore on, Sect Mount Dingbu struggled to put runs on the board. Despite their best efforts, their batters couldn't seem to capitalize on their opportunities. Thanks to Shudu's sharp batting eye, Xue Laohu's consistent hits, and Fei Hong's speed on the bases, they managed to get on base a handful of times. Yet, they remained scoreless, the tension building with each passing inning.
Meanwhile, Xue Tuzi and Shudu found their rhythm on the mound and behind the plate. Their earlier disconnect faded, replaced by a seamless understanding. Xue Tuzi's fastballs zipped over the plate with pinpoint accuracy, racking up strikeouts and keeping Sect Mount Dingfeng's batters off-balance. Even so, Dingfeng managed a breakthrough, sending a towering home run to right field in the third inning. The scoreboard read 1-0 as the game reached the bottom of the fourth inning.
"Bottom of the fourth, Dingfeng leading 1-0," Ying Wu announced, his voice rising above the hum of the crowd.
In the stands, A-Fengmi's brows knitted together, worry clouding her face. Ma-lang noticed her expression and wrapped an arm around her. "It's too early to call a winner, A-Fengmi," he said, his voice steady. "This game could go either way. Dingfeng might have the lead now, but anything is possible in baseball. All it takes is one play to turn things around."
Just then, the crack of a bat echoed across the field. "Fei Fen hits one to right field!" Ying Wu shouted, his voice crackling with excitement. The ball soared past the outfielders, landing deep in the grass.
"They're sending her to second base!" The crowd rose to their feet, eyes glued to the action. The throw from the outfield came in fast but just late. "And the throw is NOT ON TIME! Fei Fen is safe on second base!"
"Incredible double from Fei Fen," Ma-lang noted, a flicker of admiration in his voice. "She's got speed."
On second base, Fei Fen caught her breath, her chest rising and falling as she glanced toward Xue Laohu. Yes! Grandmaster Xue, if you can get a hit, I can make it home, she thought, determination burning in her eyes. Their gazes locked, and for a brief moment, a silent understanding passed between them.
Xue Laohu stepped into the batter's box, his face calm but fiercely focused. He swung the bat in a practice motion, adjusting his cap, and tugging at his jersey before fixing his gaze on the pitcher. The tension in the air was almost tangible.
The pitcher wound up and fired.
"FOUL BALL!" the umpire called as Xue Laohu made contact, the ball flying just outside the lines.
"STRIKE!"
Another pitch came, and Xue Laohu swung again. "FOUL BALL! FOUL BALL!"
Despite his frustration, Xue Laohu's determination never wavered. His grip on the bat tightened as he readied himself for the next pitch.
The ball came flying in. Xue Laohu swung—and this time, he connected.
"Next pitch… IT'S A DRIBBLER TO LEFT FIELD!" Ying Wu's voice climbed with excitement. The ball skipped past the infielders, rolling just out of reach.
Fei Fen's legs were a blur as she took off from second base, her speed electrifying the crowd. "HERE COMES FEI FEN! THEY'RE WAVING HER IN ALL THE WAY TO HOME PLATE!" Ying Wu yelled, now standing, his face a mask of amazement.
The opposing team scrambled, launching the ball toward home plate in a desperate attempt to cut her off. The crowd held its collective breath as Fei Fen slid toward the plate, dirt flying around her.
"AND NOT IN TIME! SAFE AT HOME!" Ying Wu roared, thrusting his arms outward to signal the call.
The crowd erupted in cheers, their roar shaking the stands. Fei Fen stood, her teammates swarming her with shouts of celebration. Sect Mount Dingbu had tied the game, and the momentum was shifting.
The game pressed on, with both teams battling fiercely for dominance. The score swung back and forth, each side tying the game only to lose the lead moments later. The tension on the field was obvious, and mistakes began to creep into the play. During a critical moment, Fei Hong and Xiao Zongzi sprinted toward the same fly ball, each focused solely on making the catch. Neither noticed the other until it was too late, and with a loud thud, they collided mid-run, the ball dropping harmlessly to the ground between them. Groans rippled through the Sect Mount Dingbu supporters in the crowd.
Despite these setbacks, Sect Mount Dingbu managed to pull ahead in the sixth inning thanks to a spectacular home run by Shudu. The ball soared over the center-field fence, silencing the jeers from the crowd and putting Dingbu in the lead. Xue Tuzi, now fully in sync with Shudu, shut down Dingfeng's batters with relentless precision.
The Sect Leader of Dingfeng, seated in a high booth overlooking the field, grew visibly agitated. His fists clenched around the armrests of his chair, his knuckles whitening as his team floundered. They were down by three runs, with only two innings left to turn the tide. His frustration soon boiled over into fury, and his team began resorting to underhanded tactics.
Subtle at first, the cheating became increasingly blatant. They shifted the bases just enough to ensure the Dingbu players couldn't touch them, frustrating the runners. Then came the smoke screens—thick, swirling clouds that engulfed the field at critical moments, causing confusion and forcing errors on Dingbu's side.
By the time Jiao Jiao stepped up to bat, Xue Laohu's carefully crafted strategy that had kept the game within reach came to a halt. The tiny Gu worm, along with Xiao Zongzi, posed a unique challenge for opposing pitchers. Their diminutive size meant their strike zones were minuscule, forcing the Dingfeng pitcher to issue walks rather than risk throwing bad pitches.
But this time, the Dingfeng pitcher had other plans. He sneered as he wound up, his eyes narrowing on the small, determined Gu worm in the batter's box. Jiao Jiao crouched low, his padded uniform snug around his body, his fat head tilted in focus.
The pitch came—fast, deliberate, and aimed directly at Jiao Jiao's head.
The sound was sickening, a dull, hollow crack as the ball struck the Gu worm squarely on his bulbous forehead. Jiao Jiao's tiny body flew backward, tumbling several feet from the batter's box. He landed with a soft thud, motionless on the ground.
"Xiao Jiao!"
Xue Tuzi and Shudu shouted in unison, their voices filled with panic as they bolted toward the fallen Gu worm. The crowd gasped, a mixture of horror and outrage spreading through the stands. Players from both teams froze, their eyes locked on the small, unmoving figure on the field.
Xue Tuzi was the first to reach him, falling to his knees beside the little demon. His hands trembled as he gently scooped Jiao Jiao's fragile body into his palms. Shudu knelt beside him, his face pale with worry. "Xiao Jiao," Shudu whispered urgently, his fingers brushing against the Gu worm's padded uniform.
The tension in the stadium was suffocating, the air thick with the weight of the moment. For now, the game itself seemed unimportant, all eyes were locked on the tiny player.
Ultra Super Blah Blah Blah:
The author snuffed out their cigarette in the ashtray, a curl of smoke still lingering in the air. They exhaled slowly, their voice breaking the expectant silence. "Alright, the results are in."
Xiao Mei tapped her fingers against the table in a playful rhythm, mimicking a drumroll.
With deliberate flair, the author pulled up the rankings on the screen. They coughed, clearing their throat, and began in an authoritative tone: "At number one, we have… Jiao Jiao!"
The little Gu worm bounced in joy, his tiny eyes curving into crescent shapes as he celebrated his victory.
"Of course," the author continued, glancing at the screen. "At number two… Shudu."
Shudu leaned back in his chair, smirking with unshaken confidence. "Naturally," he said, flashing a smug look toward Xue Tuzi, who rolled his eyes with a scoff.
The author ignored the growing tension. "At number three… Li Zhameng."
Li Zhameng blinked in disbelief, pointing at himself as if to confirm. "Thank you, thank you!" He cupped his hands and bowed deeply to an imaginary crowd.
The author adjusted their seat, their tone turning slightly amused. "At number four… Xue Laohu—or should I say, Yi Ming."
Xue Laohu slammed his hands on the table, his voice rising in mock outrage. "How am I ranked so low? It's because I don't have a tragic backstory, isn't it?" Without warning, he lunged at the author, grabbing them by the collar. "Give me a tragic, tear-jerking backstory! Now!" he shouted, shaking them relentlessly.
The author wrestled free, smoothing their rumpled shirt and adjusting their non-existent glasses with exaggerated composure. "You transmigrated for being a snitch. It doesn't get much sadder than that."
Xue Laohu pouted but released him.
"Moving on," the author announced, taking a deep breath. "At number five… Lord Yanhua?"
The shadows in the room seemed to ripple as Lord Yanhua stepped forward, his movements impossibly smooth. "Ah," he said with a low chuckle, "what an honor to be granted such favor by the readers."
Laughter erupted from Shudu, loud and unrestrained. "The little bunny didn't even make the list!"
"Hmph," Xue Tuzi scoffed, flicking his glossy hair over his shoulder. "I don't care what a bunch of commoners think."
The author sighed, pointing a finger. "Oh, and Xiao Zongzi, you didn't make the list either."
Xiao Zongzi's many legs trembled. Her voice was soft, tinged with disappointment. "The professor always forgets about me…"
"Fear not!" The author struck a dramatic pose, pulling another cigarette from their pocket. "Your backstory is coming. It's in the works, I swear." They lit the cigarette, taking a long drag as the glow illuminated their face.
"Of course, my son and I are at the top," Shudu remarked, brushing a finger arrogantly along his nose. His smugness only seemed to intensify as he glanced sideways at Xue Tuzi.
"Xiao Jiao is number one because he's cute," Xue Tuzi retorted, scooping the little Gu worm into his arms like a cherished pet. He glared at Shudu. "And you're number two because people pity you."
Shudu leaned in close, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "Maybe if you let me fuck that ass you can be number one."
"Enough!" The author slammed the table, their voice cutting through the rising tension. "No fighting in my office!" They straightened their posture and cleared their throat. "Thank you all for voting, and thank you for reading thus far."
They exhaled another puff of smoke, the faint grin on his face betraying his amusement at the chaos around him.