On the other side, atop the highest pavilion in the imperial palace.
Ying Qingge sat alone before the dragon throne, her phoenix-like eyes drifting with a hint of longing toward her Junior Brother’s location.
But soon, those eyes turned icy, the Empress’s majesty surging forth.
Her gaze locked onto the ethereal void.
That detestable aura… it had arrived, as expected!
With ripples trembling in the void, a slender, graceful figure slipped past the palace’s protective wards, appearing abruptly before Ying Qingge.
The woman before her had skin as fair as frost, smooth as polished jade.
Her figure was elegant, her white robes flowing like snow, exuding an otherworldly, transcendent aura, as if an immortal had descended to the mortal realm.
Most striking was her waist-length silver hair, embodying solitude and aloof pride.
In terms of beauty, presence, figure, or aura, this woman was in no way inferior to Ying Qingge.
The master of the world’s foremost pavilion, the Pavilion of Forgetting Emotions—
“Wangqing Ge!”
Ying Qingge’s lips curled in disdain, her cold phoenix eyes fixed on the woman.
“What are you doing here?”
“A question you already know the answer to. You… snuck off.”
Despite the Empress’s chilling, murderous aura, which seemed to weigh down the surrounding space, Wangqing Ge spoke with serene indifference.
“Hmph, you shouldn’t have come!”
Ying Qingge didn’t bother denying it, responding bluntly.
“Oh? And what if I did?”
Wangqing Ge seemed oblivious to the cold, or perhaps her own icy solitude surpassed it.
“You came at the wrong time, to the wrong place. I advise you to leave.”
Ying Qingge chuckled lightly, her tone casual.
This time, Wangqing Ge didn’t respond immediately. Her eyes drifted past Ying Qingge, locking onto Su Chen in the distance.
After a long pause, she finally said, “True love transcends all barriers. It’s not something you can hide with petty tricks.”
“Oh? Is this a friendly reminder from the ex-girlfriend to the current girlfriend?”
Ying Qingge sneered, her words clearly reminding Wangqing Ge that a has-been ex had no right to lecture her.
Cold. Bone-chilling cold!
Ying Qingge’s words struck Wangqing Ge’s sore spot, the dragon’s scale that none should touch.
To cross it was to court death!
Yet, within and beyond the imperial city, an invisible line seemed to exist—a boundary that, if crossed, would bring annihilation.
One step over, and the next moment could mean obliteration into dust.
A formless, overwhelming force of heaven and earth surged between Empress Ying Qingge and Wangqing Ge, clashing and sweeping across all directions.
In an instant, it was as if a celestial titan had slammed a colossal seal into the imperial city, shaking its very foundations.
For a fleeting moment, the entire city trembled, and waves of suffocating energy rippled outward.
“Wangqing Ge, guests follow the host’s rules. Don’t forget—this is my Great Qin!”
As Ying Qingge spoke, the power of Great Qin’s Nine Dragon Ancestral Vein began to gather at her will.
This force was so immense that even Wangqing Ge’s eyes flickered with a trace of solemnity. Such power was far from ordinary!
But mobilizing the full might of the Nine Dragon Ancestral Vein took time, and Wangqing Ge gave Ying Qingge no such chance.
Crack!
A sharp sound rang out, as if lightning had split the void.
Ying Qingge took half a step back, clearly outmaneuvered by a fraction.
Wangqing Ge’s aura was icy, her expression calm. She stepped into the void, her figure fading as her ethereal voice lingered.
“I came only to see him. I won’t meet him…”
Watching Wangqing Ge vanish, Ying Qingge gritted her teeth, seething with rage.
Those words sounded like Wangqing Ge was granting her a favor—an utter humiliation!
If I’d known, I would’ve thrown honor aside, gathered the full power of the Nine Dragon Ancestral Vein, and crushed her the moment she arrived!
…
The imperial city was filled with countless powerhouses, yet none knew exactly what had just transpired.
They only vaguely sensed that two titanic forces had clashed near the city, their earth-shaking aura leaving lingering fear.
Fortunately, the confrontation was as brief as it was sudden, like a fleeting bloom—shocking but quickly fading into calm.
At the competition arena, Su Chen was unaware that two women had just waged a monumental battle over him.
He stood calmly on the stage, composed and unruffled.
The first round was a literary duel.
Ji Hanqing and the Prince of Yan’s Heir, both of royal blood, forfeited immediately.
Wielding words and ink was not their forte.
In contrast, the Left Chancellor’s son, Duan Yicheng, was renowned for his mastery of Confucian scholarship.
“This round is Duan Yicheng’s victory by default!”
“Indeed, Young Master Duan Yicheng began studying at three, composing poetry at five, and mastering the classics by ten.”
“Now, his Confucian cultivation is profoundly refined, having reached the realm of true mastery.”
“Young Master Duan is Great Qin’s foremost scholar. This round might as well be decided already.”
As the competition began, the officials were brimming with confidence in Duan Yicheng.
On the stage, Duan Yicheng, dressed in a blue robe, fanned himself lightly, exuding scholarly elegance and unshakable confidence.
In a literary duel, no prodigy in Great Qin could match him—he was the kingdom’s greatest scholar.
A nobody like Su Chen? Not even close!
“With my modest talents, I’ve dabbled in literature. Since we meet today, let’s test our skills with pen and ink.”
Under the crowd’s gaze, Duan Yicheng didn’t disappoint.
Strands of Confucian aura emanated from him, intertwining and merging around his body, forming a river of righteous Confucian energy.
“This!”
“As expected of Young Master Duan!”
“At such a young age, his Confucian mastery is so profound, able to manifest a river of righteous energy around him!”
“This river contains all of Young Master Duan’s literary talent and insights. Its mere presence ensures his victory.”
Though some flattery was at play, Duan Yicheng’s river of righteous energy stunned everyone.
To manifest such a river at his age—his future was limitless!
Duan Yicheng turned his gaze to Su Chen.
“I’ve heard Young Master Su Chen is immensely talented, well-versed in ancient and modern classics.”
“Today, I boldly propose—if you can stir even a ripple in my river of righteous energy, I’ll concede defeat!”
Duan Yicheng brimmed with confidence.
This river was the culmination of his literary talent and Confucian insights.
Even great Confucian sages couldn’t disturb it.
Using it against an upstart like Su Chen was almost cruel.
Yet he smiled and asked, “What do you think?”
Unexpectedly, Su Chen’s face showed a trace of embarrassment.
“Not great, right?”
As a transmigrator, competing with you in this… isn’t that a bit too brutal?