The banquet was arranged in two rows, with Princess You seated at the very head, in the center between them.
For this night banquet at the palace gates, of the three kingdoms, only the State of Yan had come to attend. To show their respect, the Dao Palace had placed Princess You Hongying of Yan in the seat of honor, with a table wider and longer than the rest, laid with every dish of the evening, no need to pick from the passing platters.
You Hongying drew back her gaze from the doorway and asked with curiosity: "Who was that girl just now?"
No need for elaborate description—where light gathers, the eye naturally finds it.
Behind her sat two low tables, both occupied by women, the chosen seeds sent by Yan to enter the palace, bound to Princess You as mistress and attendants. One of them replied: "Your Highness, it's someone from the Chu family."
"She's one of the Chu clan's nominees this term, daughter of the clan chief. Awakened her spirit seed at age three, and has borne the seal on her brow ever since," added the other.
Clearly, their intelligence cut deeper than the common rumors floating about.
You Hongying nodded and offered a curt remark: "Interesting."
She glanced toward Yan Shu's seat. A pity that the States of Qiong and Liang had both declined to board this ship tonight—otherwise, there would have been a fine show to watch.
On the right side of the banquet, a youth had already grown bored enough to tap his chopsticks against his bowl and plate. He had a face of gold and jade, with a high ponytail strung with golden beads that fell in a smooth cascade past his bent knees. Handsome as he was, one could hardly call the pose improper.
"This feast is deadly dull," the youth muttered.
"There are fine things at this table," his companion said with a smile.
"Forget it, no fun in fighting for them." It wasn't really fine goods they'd be fighting for—it was reputation and standing that decided their very lives. But he didn't treat those things as life and death. The mere thought exhausted him.
"Then look at the fairy sister," the companion said, setting his chopsticks down on the table, tips pointed toward the Chu family's seating.
Lin Mufan lifted his eyes and looked, then paused, startled: "It's strange to say, but when I was little, I went to a feast at the Chu house and saw her once. Back then, she struck me as cute as a snowball. I never imagined she'd grow up to be—"
He could see the Chu sister clearly from where he sat. Her pale gold gauze and misty skirt were tucked beneath the low table, like a gathered bundle of light, fine jade enhancing the wearer. She sat quietly on her knees, turning her head now and then to glance around.
"The Lin and Chu families have always been close, and the two of you share a childhood bond—" Chen Kun smiled, letting the second half of the sentence hang unspoken.
"Not exactly childhood sweethearts." He had only seen the fairy sister that one time, back in childhood, when the Chu family hid her away like a treasure. Now, Chu Qinghe—her, he could truly call a childhood friend.
As he spoke, he suddenly straightened his back, trading his lazy posture for alertness. His "little childhood friend" was about to throw hands with someone.
Chu Qinghe held a spear in her left hand, her right hand's fingers pressed together in a seal. Spiritual light spilled from her fingertips like threads, looping around a glazed wine cup. The spear was held crosswise, its tip leveled at a man.
Candlelight illuminated her sharp, keen eyes. Her red robes blazed—bright, striking, and bold.
The glazed cup trailed two threads of spiritual energy, the other held by that man, and so it hung frozen in midair between them. The man's sharp jaw hovered only three inches from the spear tip. He shot Chu Qinghe a cold glare, then summoned a weapon with his right hand.
Clang!
The harsh crash of weapons colliding.
Two spear tips met. The man, it turned out, also used a spear.
"It's Baili Beichen," Chen Kun said, watching with relish, then added: "Trouble. Seems the sister got the counter."
She had struck first, using her pulling spell to seize the wine—so of course she'd sealed with her right hand; when the other party fought back, she brought out the spear in her left. The opponent was the reverse.
"Not sister. Older sister," Lin Mufan said with a frown, still finding time to correct Chen Kun's phrasing.
This cup of wine would be no easy prize.
The Baili clan of Yuezhou ranked high among the nine Seal-Holding Houses, and they passed down their legacy well, with outstanding juniors in every generation. In this one, it was a pair of siblings.
Baili Beichen was the elder brother; Baili Lingyue, the younger sister. One wielded a spear, the other a sword, and it was said even their talents matched those weapons.
"Looking at it that way, the older sister's spear work is remarkable too, isn't it? Her arm didn't even wobble." Chen Kun started cracking melon seeds. The feast held no interest, so he might as well enjoy the show.
"Why do you call her older sister?" Lin Mufan was unhappy again.
"What—" Chen Kun's eyes went wide. "Then what am I supposed to call her?"
"She has a name. It's Chu Qinghe."
...Fine, whatever, you young lords.
Chen Kun rolled his eyes as hard as he could.
On the other side, Baili Beichen said coldly: "The wine is closer to us."
"The wine comes toward us," Qinghe scoffed. As she spoke, her spear tip jabbed forward again.
This habit of talking and fighting at the same time stoked Baili Beichen's anger. With a shake of his spear, he clashed with her right there in the hall.
At the feast, many were speaking low, some fought in secret, others brawled openly—but those who, like these two, both used spears and fought this wide and wild, existed only in this corner.
Another sweeping spear strike. Though she used her off hand and held back her full strength, the shockwave still rippled outward, knocking cups, plates, bowls, and chopsticks from nearby tables. The sound of shattering porcelain gave this fight a grand, dramatic soundtrack.
Seated above the Chu family was the Baili family. Baili Lingyue stared at the scene with a blank, unmoved expression.
Seated below the Chu family was the Shang family.
Every cup and plate on Shang Ruxue's table had been knocked clean off, but she didn't seem to mind at all. Her attendant deftly cleared away the broken pieces, while she watched the duel with burning eyes, as if she was dying to jump in and land a few blows of her own.
Chu Qinghe ducked her face aside to dodge a thrusting spear tip, then suddenly called out: "Wangshu, move back. Don't get caught in this."
Wangshu looked up and obediently answered: "Mm!"
As she lowered her eyes and shifted her cushion, she also hid the light that flickered in them.
Her sister had used her talent.
The skill "Borrowing the Tiger's Might" had a trigger condition: call the target by name, and get a response.
Chu Qinghe dodged, then countered. She used her left hand, yet her speed suddenly shot up a notch.
Clang!
Baili Beichen's eyes snapped up. His arm strained—he stepped back a pace, but he still blocked the spear, now vastly more powerful.
At the feast, Yan Shu cast a cold glance this way. Up at the head, You Hongying went silent for a moment. Shang Ruxue nodded repeatedly in appreciation.
That strike had something to it.
Baili Beichen adjusted his grip on the spear to ease the sting in his palm. Questions arose in his mind, but there was no time to dwell on them. He was about to counterattack when his gaze suddenly froze.
He looked to the air—the glazed cup was gone!
Through the whole fight with Chu Qinghe, he had never once released his pulling thread. But a moment ago, the source of the pull had simply vanished.
As if sensing something, Baili Beichen looked toward Wangshu at the Chu family's seat. The glass cup was now pinched in her fingers. Meeting his gaze, she blinked, looking utterly innocent.
"You two seemed busy, so I just tried to take it. Who'd have thought—it slid right into my hand." There was a soft, reproachful tone to her words, as if to say: how careless of you not to hold on better.
Across the way, Chen Kun let out a muffled laugh. "That girl's got a mouth on her!"
Look at that—Baili Beichen, fuming after all that effort, and someone snatched the prize right from under his nose.
Baili Beichen frowned and shot a glance at Baili Lingyue. She pressed her lips together but offered no excuse.
She truly hadn't reacted in time.
The cup, once taken, could never be reclaimed.
The night feast at the palace gates was built on such minimal, restrained skirmishes—after all, no family was truly lacking in a single cup of wine.
Yan Shu watched Chu Qinghe holster her gun with a triumphant grin and return to her seat. "Kid, nicely done!"
Her sister smiled and handed over a glass cup, her eyes reflecting the candlelight brightly. “Sister, here!”
She didn't drink it herself.
Chu Qinghe didn't decline. Under the gazes of many at the banquet, she raised her lips in a carefree laugh and downed the plum wine spiked with spirit essence in one gulp.
Yan Shu thoughtfully withdrew his gaze.
After finishing, Chu Qinghe, right in front of Baili Beichen, turned the cup upside down. Seeing his face grow colder, she was absolutely delighted.
"Still daring to duel guns with me! Hmph!" She sent a telepathic message to Wangshu. "Kid, it's all in the bracelet."
Wangshu said, "Sis, so this is how you've been hiding it all along..."
"Just tell me—does it work or not?"
This routine had been performed countless times since childhood, and she could guarantee that no one at the banquet had noticed a thing.
On the eighth floor, the Lin clan leader laughed and nudged Chu Daixi's arm.
"Daixi, those two of yours—this year, they're bound to surprise everyone."
The commotion downstairs was fully visible to the elders seated above.
Chu Daixi suppressed a smile, saying, "Just a little horseplay between children."
On the fifth floor, Du Mei propped her chin on her hand and sent a telepathic message to Ming Chen: "So, are we still testing them?"
Earlier, they'd planned to test them again at the banquet. But then the two Chu daughters had made their moves—one in full ceremonial attire, stunning the entire gathering, and the other in full "battle gear," stirring up the whole venue.
The younger sister captured the spotlight, the elder sister walked away with the prize—this round, the Chu family had come out victorious.
Ming Chen frowned and shook his head. "The moment has passed."
The floating cup ritual had never stopped. Ming Yun, with sheer skill, dodged every surge of contesting energy and steadily caught the drifting cup. After drinking, he said calmly, "Rather than focusing on the Chu family, why not focus on improving yourselves? Isn't it more convincing to outrank the Chu clan in the Dao Palace?"
Ming Chen glanced at Ming Yun, tapped the table, and offered his own view: "You focus on self-improvement; I, whenever I feel like it, will throw a couple of obstacles in the Chu family's way. Call it division of labor—dual prongs."
Ming Yun let out a cold laugh and said no more.
The last three cups: one was scooped up by a servant and placed on Princess You's table.
One drifted past Yan Shu, who raised his hand and picked it up. No one objected.
The final cup, oddly enough, went to the lone chosen delegate from Shuozhou.
Eyes naturally turned her way. Feng Yao blinked. "You were all busy fighting—no one was paying attention to me."
Really?
Shang Ruxue withdrew her gaze and curled her lips into a smile.
Tonight's banquet had offered far too much excitement; her "palm-print intelligence" was about to be upgraded by two more versions. Congratulations were in order.
The prizes were distributed, the banquet wound to a close, and the sea had begun to churn with wind and waves. Everyone dispersed early.
Each level of the grand ship had a deck accessible from the interior, though the higher the level, the smaller the space. Wangshu stood in the lamplight on the deck, letting the breeze wash over her. She watched the night sea reveal its fierce side—white foam pounded against the hull in layers, and the glow of the lanterns slowly lost ground to the darkness.
Fog was rolling in.
"We've reached the deep sea, haven't we. By dawn, we should arrive." Her sister stood beside her.
Back in their cabin, as the night deepened, Wangshu suddenly opened her eyes.
The simulator in her head clacked away in the dead of night, its mechanical voice carrying a hollow, drawn-out tone.
[Having met the carefully cultivated core chosen ones of various clans, on the surface you remain unmoved, but in your heart, a faint crack has formed.]
[You are merely a counterfeit genius, barely squeezing into the ranks of these prodigies by relying on the simulator's halo. Of course, you can't help feeling inferior.]
[You've even begun to harbor a wish to run away. The better you play the part, the harder the fall when it all crumbles. You want to return to the leader mother's embrace, to tell her you just want to stay in the Chu family, stay by her side—yet you're afraid she'll be disappointed in you.]
Wangshu lay in bed, expressionless, and replied, "If I were a real genius, what would I need you for? All these years working with the simulator, and you still manage to shake my resolve—have you properly reflected on yourself? Have you been putting in the effort all this while?"
"Mother would be glad to keep me in the Chu family."
"It's me. It's me who wants to go to the Dao Palace."
I want to shine at the Dao Palace.
Something shattered within her mind. Wangshu suddenly sat up, took a moment to calm herself, and pulled aside the curtain by the window.
The fog was thick, visibility nil.
Sea miasma.
Thinking it over, she got up, opened the door, and went to her sister's room. The ship was cramped, yes, but each person had their own quarters nonetheless.
She didn't knock right away.
Inside, Qinghe was dreaming. The grand elder stared at her sternly, saying: "Now you're the only one left in the Chu family—what excuse do you have for not working hard, not pushing yourself? If you can't even make the top hundred seats at the Dao Palace, you'll make the Chu clan a complete laughingstock! The family will ultimately be ruined by your hands!"
Terrified, Qinghe clutched her pillow and jolted awake.
She wiped the sweat from her brow and muttered, "What a horrible dream. The Chu family ruined by my hands—then what are the clan leader and my sister for?"
Outside the door came a soft call.
"Big sister."
Qinghe hurried over and pulled the door open. "Kid, I just had a terrifying dream—"
Wangshu listened, then lifted the corner of her mouth. "It's the miasma. The miasma affected you, causing a mental illusion."
"That dangerous?" Qinghe said, still shaken.
Wangshu took her sister's hand and spoke slowly. "Once the illusion breaks, the miasma's influence won't linger. Let's head to the first-floor deck."
She suspected this miasma was part of the night banquet's design, too.
Passing by Miaoying's door, Wangshu hesitated but made no move to knock.
The miasma only caused hallucinations—nothing more damaging. By morning, when the fog dispersed, everything would return to normal.
After she left, Miaoying stood by the door and breathed a sigh of relief.
She had broken through the miasma's influence almost at the same time as Chu Qinghe, and she'd sensed Wangshu's presence at her door just now.
Xu Miaoying didn't want Wangshu to knock.
This palace ship wasn't her stage. If she could, she wanted to minimize her presence.
Feeling the footsteps fade away, Miaoying made up her mind—she was not leaving this room tonight.
Quite a few people had gathered on the first-floor deck.
As each person came downstairs, a servant handed them a sky lantern, smiling. "Congratulations to the guest for seeing through the illusion and holding firm to their heart."
Inside each lantern was a prize, meant to be a token of good fortune.
Qinghe reached into the lantern to grab the slip of paper inside, only to see that Wangshu had already claimed hers.
Under the light of the ship's lanterns, she unfolded it and read: "Take the top seat at the palace gates."
She gave a faint smile, and with a flick of her spiritual energy, she reduced the slip to ashes.
Beside her, Qinghe read hers aloud: "No worries, no woes."
She spoke the words out loud, then let out a strange, snorting laugh. Now this—this was a good one.
On deck, a steady stream of bright sky lanterns rose one by one, piercing through the sea fog. The winds calmed, the waves settled, leaving only shimmering glimmers of light as a bright moon rose over the sea.
When the sky began to pale with dawn, and more and more people gathered on deck, the first golden rays of sunrise fell upon the sea—and the sacred mountain standing there emerged in full, breathtaking clarity before everyone's eyes.
Facing the vast, magnificent architecture, the long wind rang the palace bells.
The gates of the palace had arrived.
