“Oh, by the way, who is Junior Ning’s master?”
Dead silence.
The Supreme Elders seemed not to know who the “Junior Sister Ning” on the banner’s master was. After all, they’d just come out of seclusion; they couldn’t even recognize all the disciples’ faces.
A moment passed.
“It’s me.” Yun Qingyuan said expressionlessly.
Supreme Elders: “???”
Supreme Elders: “!!!”
“Haha, Nephew Yun, please don’t be angry. They’re probably just joking…”
“Young people these days are truly outrageous!”
“Nephew Yun’s cultivation is number one in the world, and the Dao is merciless. I’d like to see who dares to affect Nephew Yun’s cultivation. If this old man finds out who that ‘Junior Sister Ning’ is, he will definitely punish her severely.”
The Supreme Elder who had just wanted to “make the decision for Junior Sister Ning” had already found an excuse to slip away, afraid that Yun Qingyuan would hold her accountable.
Yun Qingyuan: “…”
His expression was cool and detached, leaving others unable to discern his true thoughts.
“Master isn’t angry,” Sang Jinse observed the commotion on the high platform and happily shook Ning Ying’s shoulders. “Looks like he’s not entirely opposed to it. Otherwise, he would have had someone take down the banner by now…”
Ning Ying looked helpless. “Actually, it could be taken down…”
“No way,” Sang Jinse said. “This is a token of affection from your senior sister and senior brother. We spent quite a few spirit stones on it.”
As soon as Ning Ying heard that spirit stones had been spent, she immediately felt that taking down the banner would be a waste, so she dropped the idea.
“Oh,” Sang Jinse whispered in Ning Ying’s ear, “Junior Sister, just between us sisters, tell me honestly—do you like Master or Junior Brother Gu?”
Ning Ying: “…?”
“Why are you asking me this, Senior Sister?”
“I’ve noticed Junior Brother Gu seems to like you too.” Sang Jinse lowered her voice.
“Impossible,” Ning Ying denied. “How could Senior Brother Gu possibly like me? He’s the one who wrote the ‘Marry Master’ copy on the banner.”
“…Ah, true.” Sang Jinse nodded, relentlessly gossiping, “What about Master? Do you have feelings for Master?”
Ning Ying quickly shook her head. “Would you have feelings for someone who makes you practice swords all day?”
Sang Jinse thought about it.
She herself might be a player, but she’d never considered going after Master.
As the two whispered, a series of announcements suddenly came from afar—representatives from other powers and sects had arrived.
“The Human Emperor arrives…”
“The Ghost Lord of Senluo Temple arrives…”
“The Crown Prince of the West Sea Dragon Palace arrives…”
“The Elder of Shaoyue Sect arrives…”
“The Abbot of Lianhua Sect arrives…”
“The Holy Son and Holy Daughter of Hehuan Sect arrive…”
“The Sect Master of Qingyu Sect arrives…”
One after another, immortal carriages pulled by phoenixes, dragons, and strange beasts flew to Yaoyue Sect, hovering above the main peak square. Rosy clouds swirled, dragons and phoenixes brought auspiciousness—a true immortal sect scene.
Crimson petals fell from the sky as a pair of stunningly beautiful youths floated down, walking along a flower path to arrive among the crowd, drawing waves of cheers.
“Those are the Holy Son and Holy Daughter of Hehuan Sect.” Fearing Ning Ying wouldn’t know, Gu Qi leaned close to her ear and explained.
A handsome youth with dragon horns landed steadily, his white hair moving though there was no wind, his ice-blue eyes sharp and fierce.
“That’s the Crown Prince of the West Sea Dragon Palace,” the Demon Lord said.
A handsome man in black appeared at the edge of the crowd, accompanied by several young boys and girls. He wore a cyan feather mask, his eyes deep and intense, revealing the elegant contours of his jawline.
“That’s the Sect Master of Qingyu Sect.”
A man wearing a crown and draped in a dragon robe stepped out from the sedan chair. His features were handsome, and his presence commanded respect without needing to speak.
“That’s the Human Emperor.”
With the Demon Lord beside her introducing people, Ning Ying quickly remembered their identities—distinctive features made them easy to recognize.
“Why isn’t Senior Sister Sang saying anything?” Based on Ning Ying’s understanding of Sang Jinse, she was also someone who loved gossip. So why was she so quiet now?
This wasn’t normal.
Ning Ying and Gu Qi turned around simultaneously and saw Sang Jinse hiding behind them, desperately trying to minimize her presence and avoid the gazes of the Human Emperor, Qingyu Sect Master, West Sea Dragon Crown Prince, and Hehuan Sect Holy Son.
Ning Ying and Gu Qi exchanged a glance and immediately understood.
In unison, they said, “Senior Sister Sang, they aren’t your ex-boyfriends/old flames, are they?”
Sang Jinse scratched her head anxiously. “No, no…”
Ning Ying and Gu Qi simultaneously gave her a “who do you think you’re kidding” look.
Ning Ying had initially wanted to help shield her senior sister, but then the Demon Lord, ever the troublemaker, took the initiative to raise his hand and greet the person closest to them—the Human Emperor—with the familiarity of an old friend: “Your Majesty, long time no see!”
The black-haired man in the golden crown glanced over, displeasure on his face. “Have we met?”
“We have, we have,” the Demon Lord nodded. “Even if you haven’t met me, you must have definitely met my senior sister!”
With that, Gu Qi pushed Sang Jinse forward.
Sang Jinse kept her eyes lowered, refusing to meet the Human Emperor’s gaze.
Back when she traveled down the mountain to gain experience, she had indeed done quite a few outrageous things. She had even disguised herself as an ordinary person and spent a few months in the imperial palace as a seductive consort.
She turned her harem life into a palace intrigue game, starting from a discarded consort in the cold palace and working her way through to become the emperor’s favored consort, showered with countless affections. She also flirted with several court officials and imperial physicians. Eventually, finding it all boring, she faked her death and ran away.
To this day, the legends she left behind still circulated through the Human Emperor’s harem.
Murong Yan lifted his dark eyes to gaze at the beautiful face he yearned for day and night, the face that haunted his dreams. A sudden pain struck him in the chest.
His gaze darkened as he strode forward, grabbing Sang Jinse by her slender waist and pinning her against the wall.
Sang Jinse blinked, her voice soft: “Your Majesty, this isn’t good… so many people are watching…”
Murong Yan looked at her with reddened eyes: “Jinse, so many years have passed—have you never once thought of my goodness… You said you wanted to eat lychees, so I had them delivered posthaste from the south. You said you liked food from the mortal streets, so I took you incognito. How happily you smiled then… You’ve been gone ten years. I’m mortal—how many decades do I have to wait for you?”
Ning Ying: “It’s the red-eye, waist-grabbing trope!”
Gu Qi: “Kiss her, kiss her!”
Sang Jinse: “…”
She turned her face away and said coldly, “Your Majesty, you’re just moved by your own feelings. I’m a cultivator; why would I like any of the things you gave me? Besides, it’s not like you didn’t have other consorts.”
“Since you left, I haven’t touched anyone else,” Murong Yan said, gripping Sang Jinse’s chin, his eyes full of resentment. “You said you would return, and I waited… for ten years.”
“That was just a fleeting romance. Senior Sister Sang doesn’t like older men,” a handsome young man with a charming face said as he approached with a smile. He had captivating, flirtatious peach-blossom eyes full of emotion, and his clothes were made of thin silk, vaguely revealing his slender arms and waist.
“Holy Son of Hehuan Sect,” Ning Ying whispered. “None of the people Senior Sister Sang provokes are simple.”
Gu Qi nudged her shoulder, gesturing for her to look elsewhere.
The white-haired youth with dragon horns and the black-clad man wearing a feather mask were both walking in their direction. Seeing Sang Jinse pinned against the wall by someone, their faces showed clear displeasure.
“This is getting lively,” Ning Ying remarked.
“You’re all players in the game, but Sang Sang doesn’t like that,” the white-haired young man said as he walked over and took Sang Jinse’s hand. “Unlike me—I only know how to cherish Sister.”
With that, he leaned in as if no one else was around and brought the dragon horns on his head right in front of Sang Jinse. “Sang Sang, do you want to touch my dragon horns?”
Murong Yan’s expression darkened with displeasure. “Jin Se is a consort personally appointed by me.”
“Huh?” The Dragon Prince looked up. “We’ve already pledged ourselves to each other in private.”
The Hehuan Sect Holy Son also said: “Senior Sister Sang once said she liked my type.”
The Qingyu Sect Master: “I have tokens of affection she gave me.”
“Why don’t you all just fight it out!” Gu Qi suggested.
The Qingyu Sect Master snorted coldly: “As if I would stoop to fighting with these juniors.”
The Human Emperor also spoke. “I am skilled in strategy and planning, not in combat.”
“Then what should we do?” Ning Ying had a sudden inspiration. “How about this: you discuss it among yourselves and each take one day of the week…”
The corner of Gu Qi’s eye twitched, and he quickly covered her mouth. “Junior Sister Ning, don’t talk nonsense—Master is coming.”