Currently, Qinghe was standing ready for the final match, which would be against Yuan Sheng's current lover and the winner of the previous compet.i.tion, Zhuo Ye.

The closed curtains on the top floor of the tower had long since opened again with Yuan Sheng watching the compet.i.tion grounds with an antic.i.p.atory look.

From the base of the tower, a figure in a long ocean blue robe walked towards the arena, his eyes closed and his feathered ears twitching. His strides were long and his gait was smooth, his dark red hair lightly swaying as his dress swung along with the rhythm of his steps.

A few meters away from Qinghe, Zhuo Ye halted, the two outstanding men standing opposite to each other. Tension seemed to slowly thicken the air with the antic.i.p.ation of violence.

Then unexpectedly, Zhuo Ye's dark red lashes began faintly quivering as he slowly, carefully eased open his eyes, revealing a surprising sight.

Zhuo Ye's eyeb.a.l.l.s were a deep black that reflected no light, with a pair of pupil-less silver irises seeming to float in the darkness. It was eerie yet captivating, inciting a strange mix of fear and wonder in the hearts of all those who beheld this vivid contrast of s.h.i.+ning silver upon all-consuming black.

Qinghe tilted his head and studied his opponent. Though Zhuo Ye had his eyes open now, he still didn't seem to be able to see. So why did he open them in the first place?

Sensing the hidden vigilance of the young man standing opposite to him, Zhuo Ye couldn't help but smile with amus.e.m.e.nt. Stretching out a hand, he summoned his spiritual weapon—a radiant golden spear.

In the tower, Yuan Sheng leaned forward suddenly, a rare expression of bewilderment on his face as he saw the weapon.

The shaft of Zhuo Ye's spear was straight and slender, its color a gleaming light gold. On one end was a long and thin spearhead that looked like a sharpened and cut crimson gemstone, s.h.i.+ning brilliantly in the sun and scattering reflected sparkles of light on the ground. This spearhead was cupped underneath by a base that was fas.h.i.+oned to look like a fully-bloomed blossom. In contrast, the other end of the spear was carved into a closed flower bud, its tip sharp and pointed like a spike.

The moment this spear was revealed, several gasps of wonderment and recognition sounded from the avid connoisseurs of weapons who were present in the crowd. In excited voices, they began chattering among themselves―

"Isn't that the celestial spear Huohua? How can it appear here?!"

"Wait, wasn't Huohua a spiritual artifact? Then doesn't it mean that its current wielder is…"

"It can't be… That person was thought to have long since vanished from our world."

"But seeing his eyes…there's definitely a very high possibility that it's him."

"Yes, without a doubt, that has to be the Unseeing Prince. I can't believe that he's been by the leader's side this whole time…"

Qinghe narrowed his eyes as he heard these whispered conversations drifting over through the wind.

For a spiritual artifact to actually gain a name and become famed like this, not only would its wielder have to be a legendary figure with a widespread and celebrated reputation, the weapon itself would also have to have distinctive and unique powers. However, by how the golden spear felt inert right now, it was clear that his opponent didn't wish to use it at its full might.

But even if Zhuo Ye seemed to be very strong, the challenge of defeating him seeming so tempting, Qinghe knew his priorities, and they were not to win this battle but to fight in the most elegant and pleasing manner. Whether he lost or not was unimportant, he only had to perform to Yuan Sheng's liking.

As if reading these thoughts, Zhuo Ye's smile widened. Gripping the spear in his hand tightly, he charged at Qinghe, immediately beginning the battle.

But surprisingly enough, even as they both began exchanging blows in rapid succession, Qinghe strangely felt as if his opponent was helping him.

Though Zhuo Ye's spear was powerful and struck quickly, it was always at an angle from which Qinghe could evade it with the utmost elegance. And although Qinghe had to increase the speed of his footwork and keep deflecting the spear with his open fan serving as a s.h.i.+eld, his fighting form only looked even more graceful as if he were dancing, his movements fluid like water and his robes billowing behind him like clouds.

Licks of fire suddenly coated the deep red gem that served as the spearhead of Zhuo Ye's spear, and when it pa.s.sed by him, Qinghe could feel the streak of scorching heat it was leaving in its wake. He quickly used his wind and dissipated the heated air, only to feel the fire growing hotter, its temperature burning sharper.

As this flaming spear swiftly and unerringly came for his chest all of a sudden, Qinghe quickly leapt back, flipping once in the air before landing stably on the ground. But surprisingly enough, Zhuo Ye did not follow to attack him, instead tilting his head and looking at Qinghe with a strange expression.

By now, Qinghe had already detected that Zhuo Ye had no hostility towards him. He could also feel how powerful his opponent was, his level undoubtedly at tenth realm or above.

As someone who was only at eighth realm, and moreover being restricted due to circ.u.mstances and being unable to use his full power or skills, Qinghe knew that he wouldn't be able to put up proper resistance if Zhuo Ye truly went all out.

And yet, the other man seemed to have no intention of doing so.

What was his purpose? Why was he holding back this much, even going so far as to subtly help him?

Just as Qinghe was busy wondering about all this, Zhuo Ye suddenly dismissed his spear and leapt towards him, the blue-clad figure shooting forward as if aiming to get into Qinghe's guard. Qinghe instinctively snapped his fan shut and brought it down like a blade, but the spiritual force coated fan stopped midair as if encountering an obstacle.

A transparent orange-gold barrier had enclosed Zhuo Ye, sending sparks where the fan was struggling to cut through it.

But rather than attacking or withdrawing as the situation demanded, Zhuo Ye instead clutched the front of Qinghe's robe and pulled him closer, his strange eyes wide and peering intently into Qinghe's.

Qinghe froze at this unexpected situation.

In a curious voice, Zhuo Ye asked, "Who are you? Why are you pretending?"

Despite being stared at by those unblinking eyes up close, Qinghe still maintained his mask and affected irritation. "What do you mean? And why would I even bother pretending anything?"

Zhuo Ye chuffed in laughter, his silver irises s.h.i.+ning brightly over his black eyes. "Now, now, don't waste your acting skills on me. I can't see your performance with my eyes to appreciate it anyway. However, I can see your mind, and it is so utterly calm and still, so clear and cold…it's very refres.h.i.+ng."

Qinghe felt his heart freeze. So that was why Zhuo Ye had opened his eyes before their battle. But thankfully, it looked like he was only able to see the state of his mind rather than being able to actually read it.

Seeing that there was no use in pretending any longer, Qinghe discarded his annoyed and antagonistic tone, his voice settling into its usual composed manner even as he made sure that Yuan Sheng wouldn't be able to see any change in his expression from his position in the tower.

"Since you have not exposed me, there must be a reason. What do you want?"

Zhuo Ye blinked in surprise at how calm this young man sounded, then smiled again as he replied, "Nothing. I don't want anything from you at all. Even if you want to take my place, I won't interfere. I've grown bored of playing with that rude brat anyway."

Qinghe narrowed his eyes. For someone to call that two hundred thousand years old Yuan Sheng as a brat and actually sound like they meant it…just how old was this Zhuo Ye?

"Are you not afraid what I will do to him after getting that close?" Qinghe prodded experimentally.

"Why should I care about him?" Zhuo Ye retorted with a grin, then crooned softly, "I feel much more friendly towards you."

Then leaning closer into the crook of Qinghe's neck while taking care not to touch him, Zhuo Ye took in a deep breath as if filling his lungs with the younger man's scent.

Before Qinghe could push him away, Zhuo Ye began again, "I can smell the mark left by a dragon―no, a dragon's descendent―on your body. It seems you've been chosen by someone with the bloodline of true dragons to be their mate. As a descendant of the phoenix clan myself, how can I oppose the mate of a fellow beast of heavenly lineage?"

Qinghe looked at Zhuo Ye with incredulousness. "Is that why you've been helping me all this time? And do you really not mind giving away your position just like that?"

"I have many reasons for helping you, but my most important reason is just to see what you're planning to do with that b.a.s.t.a.r.d." Zhuo Ye chuckled amusedly, then continued, "As for my position, didn't I tell you? I'm already tired of it, so you're more than welcome to have it."

Then not waiting for Qinghe to say anything more, Zhuo Ye directly used his actions to prove his words.

The thick barrier protecting Zhuo Ye suddenly seemed to give away under Qinghe's fan without warning, splintering into pieces and sending out a spray of golden shards flying into the air, looking like dancing sparks over a flame.

Zhuo Ye immediately leapt backward and landed a few meters away on light feet. Straightening, he stood tall and poised, with his hands clasped demurely in his sleeves and a small smile curving his lips.

Then lowering his eyelids to close his eyes once again, Zhuo Ye sent a small formal bow towards Qinghe before turning around and leaving, clearly admitting his defeat.

Qinghe could only stare blankly at that retreating back.

This person was…really quite unpredictable.

Meanwhile, now that the compet.i.tion was finished, Yuan Sheng descended his tower and stood waiting for Zhuo Ye.

As soon as he saw the red-haired beauty walking in his direction, he showed a playful grin with a hint of smugness in it. "So in the end, despite your hidden and legendary ident.i.ty, you still lost. My pretty Firebird, you must obviously have gone easy on him. Did you want to fulfill my wish of having Ah-Feng as my lover that badly?"

Zhuo Ye directed an annoyed expression at that troublesome brat. "I just wanted to get rid of you that badly," he spat back.

However, Zhuo Ye was very clear that though he might be on a higher level than that young man surnamed Feng, if they had both fought with no holds barred, he might not necessarily have won despite his higher cultivation. After all, that young man seemed to be a trueborn deity. Even without his divinity, he would still have been a very difficult opponent to contend with.

Suddenly, Yuan Sheng interrupted Zhuo Ye's thoughts as he questioned with a wide smile and narrowed eyes, "By the way, what were you whispering to each other near the end, Firebird?"

Rolling his eyes under his closed eyelids, Zhuo Ye replied casually in a voice laden with boredom, "I was just warning him that you have a rotten personality, a disappointingly small package, and that you are very terrible in bed. Too bad that your Ah-Feng adamantly kept refusing to believe me."

Zhuo Ye then sighed as if truly put out.

Hearing this, Yuan Sheng burst out laughing. "I'm really going to miss you when you leave, my lovely Firebird."

Zhuo Ye nonchalantly returned, "Too bad that I can't say the same about you. I still think you're terrible in bed."

Yuan Sheng kept chuckling for a while, then finally let out a sigh as he spoke, "My pretty Firebird, my offer from that time when I took you in as my lover still stands. If you get down on your knees, thoroughly lick my feet and beg me earnestly, I'll really release all your brothers and sisters. They are still only children, you know?"

But though his smile looked regretful when he said this, Yuan Sheng's eyes sparkled brightly at the thought of having a legendary figure like the Unseeing Prince doing such humiliating things in front of him.

And after all this time, how could Zhuo Ye not see the antic.i.p.ation in his former lover's face?

Scoffing sharply, Zhuo Ye spoke with palpable disdain, "My answer still remains the same―Eat your own s.h.i.+t and choke on it, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

Having more or less expected this reply, Yuan Sheng only shook his head while muttering cheerfully, "Ah, my dear Firebird, for all your fieriness, you're still so cold-hearted even towards your own little siblings."

But Zhuo Ye only smiled wryly.

After all, even though his brothers and sisters who had gotten captured alongside him looked to be eight to twelve years old at most, all of them were in fact far older than him. And considering that age-wise, Zhuo Ye could rival the Sentinel Grandmaster himself, that was saying a lot.

And moreover, just like Zhuo Ye had done back then, his brothers and sisters had also let themselves be captured only because they had all felt bored and wanted to see if the humans who caught them could offer something interesting. The last thing they needed right now was Zhuo Ye's interference or his help in getting free. His siblings were more than capable of getting themselves out when they grew tired of playing around.

Shaking his head and clearing his thoughts, Zhuo Ye began walking again, pa.s.sing by Yuan Sheng's smirking figure and striding further beyond without hesitation.

With unreadable eyes, Yuan Sheng watched his former lover's straight back gaining more and more distance, then turned around and started walking in the opposite direction, towards the transportation array that would take him and his guards back to the Black Fang headquarters. Once there, he would meet with the compet.i.tion's winner in his bedroom, then push down his new lover and entertain himself with that young flesh.

As the distance between them increased, neither Zhuo Ye nor Yuan Sheng looked back even once, already knowing that they would never meet each other again.

And yet, neither of them cared.

...

The wide hallway was lavishly decorated with various ornamental weapons and staggeringly expensive landscape paintings hanging on the ivory-colored walls. The long stretch of the floor below was laid with translucent green slabs of mildly s.h.i.+mmering stone that radiated faint traces of spiritual energy.

Currently, two men were walking through this hallway, one stunningly beautiful and the other wearing drab and dark grey robes.

"Are you sure the leader asked me to meet in his bedroom? Did you really not get the message wrong?" Qinghe asked with thinly veiled disdain.

His posture while walking was straight and regal while also bearing a trace of frivolity. He covered the lower half of his face with his fan, while the pair of clear eyes visible above the fan's edge showed nothing but condescension and haughtiness.

Unclenching his jaw with effort, the grey-robed guard gritted out, "Yes. This is definitely what my lord instructed me to tell you, Lord Feng."

Qinghe hmphed in contempt. "You are only a mere guard, how am I to know whether or not you have enough intelligence to remember and convey the leader's instructions properly."

The guard ground his teeth together and clenched his fists. This person was so infuriating! He had been constantly insulting him from the moment he'd first opened his mouth. The guard couldn't wait to get rid of this pretentious young man!

Thankfully, before any heads could explode in anger, they soon reached their destination.

It was an amber-colored wooden door, carved with intricate designs and guarded by a large group of more grey-clad men. A man on the left carried a heavy and lavish looking box, while several men on the right carried a few plainer wooden boxes.

One of the men with a black and white beard spoke, "Lord Feng, before you enter the leader's private s.p.a.ce, we must ensure that you remove all your clothing and accessories for safety purposes. You may only wear what the leader has already prepared for you."

Saying so, the man gestured to the lavish box.

Though he had expected such security measures, Qinghe still showed a displeased expression. "What is the meaning of this? Is this how you treat one of the leader's future personal guards? Why must I remove my clothing and give away my things to some random brutes? Do you think I will just show my skin in front of you simply because you ask?! Get lost!"

The bearded guard frowned. "My lord, we mean no disrespect, but these are direct orders from the leader. We cannot disobey. As for your privacy, we will prepare some screens to let you change in peace. But before that, you have to leave behind all the outer layers of your clothing and your possessions in these boxes. They will be returned to you later, I promise."

With a sneer, Qinghe spat, "Is a promise from a mere guard even worth anything? Hmph! But since these are the leader's orders, I will comply."

And so, Qinghe reluctantly handed over all his outer robes, shoes, his accessories, along with the various defensive and offensive artifacts, trinkets, and talismans that someone from a wealthy cultivator family would possess. All these items were carefully packed away in the simple wooden boxes and kept aside.

"Even your fan, my lord," the bearded man urged.

With a vicious glare, Qinghe gave it over as well. "You better take good care of it. A single scratch on that fan and I will have all your worthless lives in exchange!"

But though he railed unreasonably like this, Qinghe was in truth not all that bothered. After all, this fan was something he'd just found lying around in his storage s.p.a.ce. It did not mean much to him, but it was certainly useful in displaying his role's temper to full effect.

The fan was thus carefully placed in one of the boxes and also set aside.

Taking the more lavish box that contained new clothing, Qinghe stepped into an impromptu dressing room fas.h.i.+oned with three screens placed together and against the wall to form a square.

The set of clothes in the box looked extremely luxurious, the inner robes thin and soft while the outer robe was a pure snowy white and embroidered with gleaming gold thread.

Removing and neatly folding the single inner robe and the set of underclothes he had been permitted to keep on, Qinghe put on the provided underclothes, pair of pants, the layers of inner robes, and then the heavy yet comfortable outer robe. However, there were no accessories provided, so he could only shrug and leave it.

When Qinghe stepped outside, stifled gasps and wide eyes greeted him.

"…He looks like an immortal or a G.o.d," one of the guards muttered in awe.

Hearing this, Qinghe sneered inwardly. That Yuan Sheng seemed to be exactly the kind of person who would raise someone to the altar as a G.o.d only so that he could take greater pleasure in bringing them down and desecrating them.

Not showing his thoughts on his face, Qinghe only huffed. "Just because I'm beautiful, do you need to stare so ill-manneredly? Wipe your drool, you crude swine."

These harsh words immediately snapped the group of men out of their reverie and made them grumble, the spell of beauty immediately broken.

Clearing his throat, the bearded man strode into the makes.h.i.+ft dressing room to collect Qinghe's clothing, going through it to make sure that Qinghe had really taken everything off.

Then retrieving a large talisman that was covered entirely with neatly ordered symbols, the bearded guard spoke, "My lord, I will now test you with this talisman to see if you have anything that can channel, store, or use spiritual energy on or in your body, except for your spiritual veins and the like, of course. If you are hiding anything or think you might have missed something, this would be the best time to take it out."

Qinghe rolled his eyes and stepped forward without hesitation.

The bearded man waved the talisman around Qinghe, from the very top of his head to the very bottom of his uncovered heels, to even the tips of his fingers and toes. The talisman, however, remained inert, showing no reaction.

Heaving a silent breath in relief, the bearded man put away the talisman and nodded. "Very good, you may now proceed, Lord Feng."

Stiffening his spine, Qinghe impatiently strode towards the door, his hand just reaching to push it open when the guard's voice rang out again, "Ah, stop. There's one more thing."

Qinghe froze, then turned around with irritation. "Now what?"

"Your hair stick, my lord," the bearded man reminded. "In the hands of someone capable, even a blunt hair stick could be used as a weapon."

Qinghe looked into the other man's eyes as the bearded guard stared back with caution. Then, curling his lip in abject annoyance, Qinghe reached up and unceremoniously pulled out his hair stick and threw it at the guard, sending his elaborately arranged hair cascading down and draping over his shoulders.

This disarrayed appearance provided a very sharp contrast when compared to his formal and opulent clothing.

Realizing this, Qinghe frowned, hesitating. The waving a hand, he hastily retrieved a simple black ribbon to tie up his hair before taking a deep breath. For now, this would do.

Just as he once again walked over and stood in front of the amber-colored door, Qinghe felt the shadow under his feet suddenly becoming empty. He realized that Wei Xiang must have already gone back to the other Sentinels to put into effect the final stage of their plan.

Without the comforting presence of his lover, Qinghe couldn't help the flutter of nervousness in his stomach.

But forcing it down and removing all uncertainties, Qinghe finally pushed open the door and entered Yuan Sheng's bedroom.