What Zheng does not desire is what the multitude seeks.

Strictly speaking, Zheng Fanren was already a married man. In a world far removed from this one and shrouded in mystery, he had a wife. Thus, as far as the women of this world were concerned, his regard remained at the level of admiring beauty from afar; at least at this moment, he had no intention of starting a family here. He could not quite fathom why Luo Xue wished to marry him, yet inwardly, he could not suppress a certain joy and unease that belonged to those who felt unworthy. He had hoped to rely on the scant experience from his previous life to end the dangers of being a man with an obvious treasure, but the outcome had taken an unexpected turn, and even he—usually carefree and indifferent—felt somewhat helpless. From their brief exchanges alone, he could tell Luo Xue was not someone who could be swayed by brute force.

When he stepped into the women’s quarters behind Luo Xue Hall, he noticed that even this place bore a unique name. At the very least, the name “Hall of Clouds” hardly conjured the image of the famously fierce Luo Xue of Luo City.

“Hurry and eat your breakfast. In a bit, I’ll take you somewhere!”

Looking at that exquisitely beautiful face, Zheng Fanren realized that the joy and anxiety in his heart were beyond his control. He forced himself to remain silent, sat quietly, and began biting into the breakfast of indeterminate flavor with great determination.

…

Swallow Rain Pavilion was the finest and most distinguished restaurant in the city, opulent and refined. Its patrons were either officials or the wealthy elite. Without Luo Xue’s renowned name, it would have been nearly impossible to reserve even a small private room. Today, however, she had claimed the entire establishment, using it as a gathering place before the banquet. The restaurant’s rear garden, indeed, was a place of rare comfort and pleasure. The summer breeze drifted gently through the garden, intoxicating the scholars and cultivators who strolled among the flowers. Dozens of young talents leaned on railings with gentle smiles, laughed softly in conversation, or recited lines of poetry—making for a lively scene.

Luo Xue left Zheng Fanren behind, disappearing to attend to some unknown matter. He stood in an inconspicuous corner, a wine cup in hand, calmly observing the joyful conversations swirling in the breeze. He naturally did not expect that these prominent figures would have anything in common with a nameless man like himself, so he had no intention of ingratiating himself with them.

After quite some time, everyone made their way into the main hall, choosing their seats and gradually growing quiet. Zheng Fanren followed suit, again finding himself ensconced in a corner.

Luo Xue was, indeed, worthy of her reputation. Rising with poise and grace, she offered a few words of welcome. Many in attendance had never imagined that the famously elusive Miss Luo Xue would gather all the city’s most talented young men for a banquet, and seeing her in person left many dumbstruck.

Yet the young talents of Luo City were not so easily overawed. The hall quickly filled with cheers and applause. Zheng Fanren sighed inwardly: “A truly exceptional heroine!”

After a round of lively commotion, an endless array of exquisite dishes was served, and the crowd began to feast and make merry once more. In the liveliest corner, several renowned talents could be clearly heard discussing Luo Xue.

“I’ve heard that Miss Luo Xue’s banquet today is in honor of her impending marriage,” said Fang Zizai. Though only just of age, his looks were almost too delicate. Glancing around with a sly grin, he deliberately asked, “Could she be choosing a husband?”

Beside him, Ye Yinghua smiled faintly and replied, “That seems likely. I must do my best to shine, lest I fail to live up to Miss Luo Xue’s invitation!”

His words made it sound as if Luo Xue had the highest expectations of him alone. Watching his serene response, Zheng Fanren was keenly aware that thick skin was useful in any circumstance.

Opposite him, Lu Qingtian lightly flicked open his folding fan and declared, “Yinghua is right. But with Miss Luo Xue’s irresistible charm, I, too, must give my all.”

Although Fang Zizai was still somewhat childish, he refused to be outdone, responding seriously, “You both speak well. I shall not let down your guidance and will give it my utmost effort.”

Zheng Fanren recalled that Nangong Mo had mentioned these three were currently the most celebrated young cultivators in Luo City. To be famous in such a city teeming with talent was no easy feat, and their status alone as cultivators was something countless people dreamed of.

…

Just then, a commotion erupted outside Swallow Rain Pavilion: raised voices, attempts to stop someone, and angry rebukes—the sounds of someone forcing their way in. Ye Yinghua called out sternly, “Who dares be so bold as to trespass upon our banquet?”

The approaching footsteps were neither hurried nor solitary, but irregular, suggesting more than one person. Yet everyone in the room felt as if only a single presence had entered—a presence that somehow injected pride straight into your lungs, overwhelming everything else and commanding all attention.

There are people who possess a natural magnetism. Even if you are a butcher, an innocent young girl, or a nearly blind elder, no matter how quietly such a person walks amidst the crowd or how many dazzling figures surround him, as long as he is there, your eyes will find him first—and never want to look away.

The young man entering now was such a person. He appeared to be in his early twenties, dressed in a plain robe, with an ordinary sword at his waist. His stride was calm and steady. Silently, he followed an elder into the hall, trailed by two maids.

The elder was none other than Mo Dao, now an instructor at the Grand Profound Academy!

…

Luo Xue’s lips were full and sensual, curving ever so slightly upward, making them all the more alluring. Zheng Fanren sighed inwardly, “Any man would want to take a bite!”

Those lips now issued a regal command: “And who invited you two?”

Mo Dao smiled. “Today, I happened to be out with the eldest son of the Zhou family. Upon hearing that Miss Luo Xue was hosting the talented youth of Luo City, we thought we’d join in the festivities.”

The young man at his side looked at Luo Xue, and for a moment a gleam flashed in his eyes before he regained his composed demeanor. He nodded slightly in greeting, but the gesture was so subtle that it betrayed little sincerity. His handsome face showed no hint of arrogance, nor did he deliberately display any haughtiness, but there was a distinct air of indifference—a message delivered with perfect clarity: he simply did not care.

A gasp of recognition rose from the crowd: “That’s the eldest son of the Zhou family, the genius of the Grand Profound Academy!”

A flurry of whispered discussion followed, mostly marveling at the young master’s abilities. Clearly, he had many admirers, though the formality of the occasion kept them from openly expressing their respect. The maids at his side sensed the crowd’s reverence, raising their heads high like two proud waterfowl.

Zheng Fanren thought to himself, “The main character has finally arrived!”

Ye Yinghua and the others recognized Mo Dao and dared not show disrespect to an instructor of the Grand Profound Academy. They quickly greeted him, “Our respects, Master Mo.”

Mo Dao responded with a genteel smile. Looking at the three young men, he spoke in a clear voice: “Though my conversation just now with the young master of the Zhou family was brief, I was greatly impressed by his erudition. He is truly admirable, and his cultivation talent is extraordinary. You would do well to seek his instruction.”

Among peers, especially at a banquet meant for Luo Xue to choose a husband, the meaning behind his words was obvious. Young Fang Zizai frowned slightly and replied, “To seek instruction is no trouble, so long as Miss Luo Xue is willing. We shall gladly oblige.”

The difference between “seeking instruction” and “challenging” was but a single word, yet it heralded the impending “battle” among these young men for the prize of a mate.