In the pitch-black night, under a shroud of fog, two figures—one clad in black and the other in white—darted across the rooftops like ghostly messengers of death, their speed akin to a fierce wind.
Eventually, they stopped at a secluded, abandoned temple.
Both figures landed silently, one after the other.
“The tales speak of the Shadow Phantom Technique of the Tian Sha Pavilion Master, a skill so elusive that no one can escape its pursuit. Seeing it today, it truly lives up to its legend,” Yun Feiyang said with a faint smile, standing with his hands behind his back. However, his eyes were as icy as blades, brimming with cold hostility.
“Your Flowing Cloud Moon-Chasing Step is also exquisitely crafted, Lord Mu Feng. Truly awe-inspiring,” Shangguan Ye replied, raising an eyebrow. His tone was cool, laced with subtle mockery and provocation.
Neither man was willing to yield, both vying to maintain the upper hand.
Yun Feiyang’s hands, hidden behind his back, clenched tightly. His nails nearly pierced his palms as he forced himself to stay calm. Yet the memory of Murong Qiufeng’s gaze—fixed so tenderly upon Shangguan Ye—seared his thoughts, igniting a violent urge to raze everything in sight.
He knew, however, that Shangguan Ye was no easy opponent. The Tian Sha Pavilion’s fearsome reputation in the martial world was one thing; Shangguan Ye’s noble status as a prince added another layer of difficulty.
In the martial world, commoners rarely contended with officials, let alone the imperial court. Moreover, Yun Feiyang’s own concealed identity made it impossible for him to act rashly.
“Prince Ye, let us speak plainly,” Yun Feiyang said, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “The Mu Feng Tower and Tian Sha Pavilion have no enmity between them. Qiufeng is my most cherished person. I implore you to spare him. If you require companions, I can find someone even more beautiful than Qiufeng for you. He is pure-hearted and unsuitable for such amusements.”
His words carried sincerity and urgency. Yun Feiyang could not afford pride now; Murong Qiufeng’s peculiar behavior toward Shangguan Ye terrified him. If Qiufeng truly fell for the prince, it would be a catastrophe beyond repair.
Shangguan Ye’s sharp gaze studied Yun Feiyang, and a glint of admiration flashed within. To set aside pride and plead in this manner revealed just how deeply Yun Feiyang cared for Murong Qiufeng. This selfless devotion earned Shangguan Ye’s respect, but admiration alone was not enough.
“Yun Feiyang, what if I am serious?” Shangguan Ye said, his tone decisive. “I never intended for him to be a mere plaything. Believe it or not, I love him. Murong Qiufeng belongs to me, and I will never let him go—not in this lifetime.”
Yun Feiyang froze, his body trembling as Shangguan Ye’s firm declaration struck like a hammer. He stared at the prince in shock, searching for any sign of deceit, but the sincerity in those eyes was undeniable, as though Shangguan Ye had sworn an oath with his very soul.
Staggering back a step, Yun Feiyang’s mind spun. If Shangguan Ye only sought fleeting pleasure, perhaps they could negotiate. But if the prince was genuinely in love, his overbearing nature would make compromise impossible.
Steeling himself, Yun Feiyang took a deep breath and said coldly, “Shangguan Ye, Qiufeng is my one true love. I have waited for him for five years, only for you to take advantage of my momentary lapse. But I will not let him go. No one will take him from me—not without a fight. That said, I propose that our competition not harm him in any way.”
“That is precisely what I hope for,” Shangguan Ye replied, his chin tilted slightly, exuding the arrogance of a victor.
He cared little for contests of love; what was his would remain his. Agreeing to a fair competition with Yun Feiyang was merely a gesture of respect for the man’s devotion to Murong Qiufeng. Yet, deep within, Shangguan Ye harbored no intention of losing.
Murong Qiufeng was his and his alone.
The two parted on tense terms, their unspoken rivalry marking the beginning of the enmity between Mu Feng Tower and Tian Sha Pavilion.
The following day, Shangguan Ye unexpectedly granted Murong Qiufeng a five-day leave. He even generously granted himself leave as well, under the guise of being a gracious host and using the opportunity to tour Lu City.
Yun Feiyang outwardly welcomed this apparent goodwill, though both men understood the subtle undercurrents of their actions.
Murong Qiufeng, caught in the midst of their sudden camaraderie, found the situation odd but breathed a small sigh of relief. A truce, however uneasy, was better than outright hostility.
Yet fate often delights in throwing curveballs. Just as the three settled into this fragile peace, an unexpected guest disrupted their journey.
“Brother Qiufeng, I heard from Sister Yun that you’ve learned martial arts! Can you show me some? Do you know any lightfoot techniques?”
“Brother Qiufeng, these women are so plain—how dare they sell their smiles?”
“Brother Qiufeng, you’re so kind. Whoever becomes your wife will be the happiest woman alive.”
“Brother Qiufeng, why are you so handsome? I’ve never seen a man more beautiful than you!”
The relentless chatter of Zhao Xiru grated on everyone. Shangguan Ye’s face darkened like storm clouds, while Yun Feiyang forced a smile, his eyes flickering with irritation.
Both men, seated across from each other in the boat, exchanged a rare look of shared sentiment: they dearly wanted to toss Zhao Xiru into the lake and let her fend for herself.
Murong Qiufeng, however, patiently indulged Zhao Xiru’s whims, tolerating her chatter. Her lively energy reminded him of his faraway younger sister, and he instinctively treated her with kindness, oblivious to the silent fury of the two men watching.
As the boat drifted on the lake, murmurs of admiration rose from onlookers, unaware of the storm brewing between its passengers.
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