I step forward, the light illuminating me fully, ink-black hair falling, making my already clear-featured face appear even more pale and unreal.
I open my mouth, only to find I don’t know what to say.
Everyone below the stage has their gaze fixed on me.
Those gazes hold expectation, scrutiny, curiosity, and desire that makes no effort to hide itself.
“I…”
I speak, my voice slightly hoarse.
The crowd below quiets down, everyone straining to hear.
“I don’t have any wishes.”
A stir ripples through the crowd.
A flicker of surprise crosses the emcee’s face.
“I can’t answer because I’ve never thought about it. A virtuous person shouldn’t want things, a husband shouldn’t have desires of his own. If someone praised for being sensible suddenly stops being sensible, those who praised you will think you’ve changed. But you haven’t changed. You’ve just…”
I pause, searching for the right word.
“Just stopped pretending.”
“So today I’m standing here.” Shen Mo lifts his eyes again, his gaze moving away from the curtains of the private boxes, landing on everyone below the stage, on every pair of eyes that had just appraised him with amusement, scrutiny, and desire. “Not to prove anything. For the first time in my life, I’m just making a decision for myself.”
The entire hall falls silent.
Even the wind chimes stop ringing.
“My wife’s injury—I want to save her. Not because I’m her husband, not because a virtuous person should go through fire and water for their wife. But because—” Shen Mo’s voice finally cracks here, like the first line pattern spreading across ice. “She’s the one I chose. Seven years ago she asked me if I was willing, and I said yes. That yes was mine alone. No one forced me.”
“If I can get the Dragon Marrow Liquid today and save her, I’ll be happy. If I can’t…” He pauses, that faint, almost invisible curve at the corner of his mouth appearing once more. “Then at least I’ve tried making one decision for myself.”
He steps back, bends his knee, and offers a bow.
His crimson skirts spread across the white jade floor, ink-black hair falling forward to hide his expression, only his voice filtering out from between the strands, light as a feather of the crane landing on water.
“That’s all I have to say.”
Silence.
All sound disappears, leaving only the faint tinkling of wind chimes as the night breeze passes through the eaves of the Ten Thousand Flower Pavilion.
Because he spoke too softly.
Too softly to be addressing over a thousand people—it was more like talking to himself.
Yet it was precisely that softness that carried more weight than any frantic shouting. It was a person laying their heart bare, under the gaze of everyone.
In the corner, Su Wan’er’s lips tremble.
Seven years ago, she left on her wedding night, and on the journey, she never once looked back.
She was afraid that if she looked back, she wouldn’t want to leave. Afraid that if she looked back, her resolve would waver.
Less than three months together. She thought she was fighting for their future, never realizing he didn’t need that future at all. He just needed her presence in that moment.
Su Wan’er closes her eyes.
Tears seep through the seams of her tightly shut eyelids, sliding down her pale cheeks.
She never cries. In over two hundred years of cultivation, no matter how severe the injury, how perilous the situation, she’s never shed a single tear, because she is a Peak Master, and she has too many people to protect.
But she couldn’t even protect the one person she should have protected most.
On the stage, Shen Mo steps back, returning to his place in the line of candidates.
He doesn’t look at anyone’s reaction, just keeps his eyes lowered, quiet as a Tanhua flower plucked from its branch, placed in a vase, still trying to bloom.
The emcee collects herself, clears her throat, and speaks with a trace of unnatural hoarseness: “Very—very well, honored guests, the final statements of all twelve candidates have been delivered. Now, the voting officially begins!”
On the Jianfang Bi, points of light begin to flicker.
Shen Mo’s score climbs rapidly—nine hundred and thirty-two. Shuyu Gongzi follows at nine hundred and forty-one, leading by a slim margin.
Chiyan Langjun scores in the low eight hundreds, the Shuang Bi Xiongdi brothers just over seven hundred, Xuepo Gongzi at eight hundred and fifty.
Shen Mo’s score continues to rise. One thousand.
The number draws a low gasp from the audience—a perfect appearance score, unprecedented in the history of the Flower Queen Competition.
The other candidates are left far behind; even the closest, Shuyu Gongzi, is barely above nine hundred.
Now comes the true test.
Shen Mo circulates his dual cultivation method, his aura shifting.
A faint moonlight glow emerges from beneath his skin—not deliberately released spiritual power, but a translucence radiating from within.
The numbers on the Jianfang Bi begin to jump.
Three hundred… five hundred… six hundred and fifty…
Below the stage, the pupils of several great powers contract slightly. They recognize it—this is no ordinary breathing technique, but the Moonlight Heart Method, never taught outside the Ten Thousand Flower Pavilion.
The value of this method lies not in its power, but in its ability to resonate the cultivator’s breath with the moon’s essence between heaven and earth.
In combat, it’s useless. But in a setting like this—it can utterly transform a person’s bearing.
Seven hundred and thirty.
Seven hundred and eighty.
Eight hundred and ten.
The number finally settles at nine hundred and eighty.
Scoring this high at the Foundation Establishment level is enough to make everyone sit up and take notice.
Among the other candidates, the highest cultivation level belongs to Xuepo Gongzi, whose skill score is nine hundred and forty.
The final category.
Elegance.
This is the category that decides victory.
It’s also the very foundation of the Ten Thousand Flower Pavilion’s Flower Queen Competition.
Voice can be trained, appearance can be adorned, skill can be accumulated—but elegance alone, that thing which radiates from the depths of one’s soul, cannot be faked.
The points of light on the Jianfang Bi begin to flicker at an unprecedented speed.
Nine hundred. The moment the number appears, the first wave of gasps ripples through the audience.
Nine hundred and fifty. Gasps turn to uproar.
Nine hundred and eighty. The entire Ten Thousand Flower Pavilion falls silent.
Nine hundred and ninety.
The final point of light remains dark.
Shen Mo looks up at that vacant spot.
On the Jianfang Bi, only the last edge remains unlit, like a full moon missing its final sliver.
Suddenly, the crowd below quiets.
Because someone is flying over on a sword.
It’s Su Wan’er.
The Peak Master of Jiaoyue Peak, who hasn’t returned home in seven years.
Wife of the soon-to-be Flower Queen on stage.
No one tries to stop her.
Her eyes make it clear to everyone—if anyone blocks her now, she’ll fight for her life.
Su Wan’er walks to the Jianfang Bi.
In her hand, she holds a Viewing Jade Token.
The moment spiritual power flows into it, the token glows with warm light.
Then she stands before the jade wall reflecting nine hundred and ninety points of light, turns around, and faces Shen Mo on the high platform.
Then, she kneels.
Not the Ten Thousand Flower Pavilion’s kneeling courtesy. Not the cultivation world’s Dao companion ritual.
It’s the kneeling bow a bride offers her groom in mortal weddings.
One knee on the ground, spine straight.
She is asking for his hand.
In front of everyone, at the climax of the Flower Queen Competition, at the moment before her own husband is to be crowned Flower Queen—she kneels, and asks for his hand a second time.
On the Jianfang Bi, the final point of light ignites.
One thousand.
A perfect score.
In the Ten Thousand Flower Pavilion’s centuries-long history, the first Flower Queen to achieve a perfect score in elegance.
Shen Mo walks down the high platform step by step.
Surrounding him are the gazes of over ten thousand female cultivators; above him, the brilliant sea of light formed by a thousand points of light on the Jianfang Bi.
Su Wan’er’s eyes are red as if about to bleed, but Shen Mo’s eyes are calm—so calm, like a lake’s surface before a torrential storm.
He leans down and, gently, quietly, without a trace of reproach, pats her back.
The Ten Thousand Flower Pavilion is so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Pei Yu raises her teacup, and finds her hands trembling.
She sets the cup down, mutters a curse under her breath, then blinks hard.
Qin Shuying remains seated, expression unchanged, holding the tea that has long gone cold, sipping it mouthful by mouthful. Only she knows that when the tea goes down her throat, it burns as if trying to sear her from the inside out.
Her gaze passes through the bamboo curtain and lands on the hand gently patting Su Wan’er’s back.
That hand has lingered on a cloud-crane’s wing, left scratch marks on her back, been held in her palm to warm when it was frozen red at the edge of the Cold Pool. Now, it is comforting another woman.
“This year’s Flower Queen Competition, the champion’s position goes to—Young Master Shen Mo!”
A thousand points of light on the Jianfang Bi burst into radiant bloom at once.
Applause finally rises.
At first, a few scattered claps, like raindrops left on the eaves after a storm, then more and more, denser and denser, until it merges into a surging wave of sound.
“Please, Flower Queen Shen Mo, ascend the stage to receive the crown, and choose your preferred prize!”
The emcee’s high-pitched voice cuts through the commotion.
Under the gaze of thousands, Shen Mo walks step by step toward the center of the high platform.
A maidservant presents the ornate crown carved from Wannian Warm Jade and adorned with the finest spiritual pearls, symbolizing the championship.
He sidesteps it, and only calmly accepts the purple-gold token that represents the champion’s authority and status.
His gaze has already moved past such empty honors, fixed instead on the area behind the high platform.
Led by several maidservants in sheer gauze, with ample bosoms and slender waists, Shen Mo steps onto the treasure platform.
The space here is small, but spiritual qi gathers into a thick mist. Treasures rest on specially crafted spirit-jade display stands, each emanating a breathtaking radiance and Dao resonance.
“Champion Shen, per the rules, you may choose one item from the treasures displayed at this level.” The emcee gestures to the seven or eight treasures on display.
There’s a Pozhang Dao Dan that can help Nascent Soul cultivators break through bottlenecks.
There’s a fragmentary Tongtian Sword Diagram left by an ancient sword cultivator.
There’s a Xuantian Chengdu Shield capable of withstanding a full-force strike from a Deity Transformation cultivator.
There’s an Immortal Phoenix Grass that can extend one’s lifespan by three hundred years… and… that bottle Shen Mo has dreamed of—the Purifying Soul Dragon Spine Liquid, holding its faint blue, dreamlike liquid.
His gaze sweeps across all seven treasures without pausing.
“I choose the Soul-purifying Dragon Marrow Essence.”
Clean and decisive, without a hint of hesitation.
The emcee nods, raises a hand to form a spell seal, unlocks the prohibition seal on the cold jade stand, and carefully retrieves the small ink-black jade bottle, handing it to Shen Mo.
It’s cool to the touch, with a warm, smooth texture.
This is it!
Finally… I have it!
“Report—!!!”
A hurried transmission call comes from afar.
A Jinyun City guard bows with clasped fists. “Seniors! In the direction of Luoyan Jian, thirty li outside the city, a large group of demonic cultivators has been spotted! Thirty li out, a black mass of them—at least a thousand! Small groups are also setting fires and killing within the city—half the eastern marketplace has already burned!”