The grand Autumn Banquet hosted by First Prince Xue Qinghe was only two days away, and while Tang Yuehua's wardrobe was meticulously curated by the finest seamstresses in the capital, Wang's closet consisted almost entirely of plain traveling robes, durable leather boots, and wilderness attire suited for slaying spirit beasts.
"You are going to a royal estate as the personal companion of the Mistress of the Moon Pavilion," Yuehua declared, standing by the vanity in their inner suite with a small silver brush in hand. Her silver hair was tied up into an elegant, loose weave that cascaded down her back, and her eyes held an unshakeable resolve.
"Not as a wandering rogue who just crawled out of the Star Dou Forest. If you step into Prince Xue Qinghe's estate wearing a plain linen robe, half the court nobles will spend the evening whispering about my lack of taste."
Wang Luan lay propped against the carved mahogany headboard, his bare chest half-covered by the silk sheet, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "Yue Yue, a Level ninety-two Titled Douluo could wear a sack made of jute and still look like an absolute sovereign. Besides, true experts don't care about shiny threads."
Yuehua turned around, crossing her arms over her embroidered bodice and shooting him a pointed look. "True experts might not care, but high-society imperial politics run entirely on appearances. Get up, put on something presentable, and come with me. We are going to the Commercial District."
Wang Luan let out a long, exaggerated sigh of mock suffering, throwing his hands up in defeat.
"Defeated again. Slaying a hundred-thousand-year old soul beast was easier than arguing with you."
"Less complaining, more moving," she replied smoothly, though the corners of her lips twitched upward in a hidden smile.
Half an hour later, the two of them stepped out through the side carriage entrance of the Moon Pavilion.
To avoid attracting an unwanted procession of high-society admirers and noble guards, Yuehua wore a light, translucent veil of pale indigo over the lower half of her face. Even veiled, her tall, graceful posture, refined movements, and the unmistakable silver sheen of her hair drew curious looks from passersby.
Beside her, Wang Luan walked with a relaxed, languid stride, dressed in a simple yet clean silver-white tunic. His dark hair was loosely bound behind his neck with a blue ribbon, his tall frame and broad shoulders giving him an air of effortless power despite his casual dress.
The Commercial District of Heaven Dou City was a marvel of imperial prosperity. Wide cobblestone avenues were lined with multi-storied pavilions made of dark red cedar and white marble. Carriage wheels clattered rhythmically over the stone roads, while hawkers, merchant guilds, and spirit masters from various sects and academies moved in a continuous stream.
"It really has been a while since I just walked through the capital like this," Wang Luan remarked, folding his arms behind his head as he looked around at the bustling storefronts. "Six months in the deep forest makes you appreciate the smell of fresh bakeries over wet dirt and beast blood."
"You stayed in the forest entirely by choice," Yuehua noted dryly, stepping slightly closer to his side as a heavy iron-clad merchant wagon rumbled past them. "If you had hunted your ninth ring with a proper hunting squad from a major faction instead of going solo, you wouldn't have spent half a year living like a wild man."
"A hunting squad would have only slowed me down," Wang Luan said casually, his voice dropping into a low tone.
"Imagine bringing a team of Soul Douluos into the core zone of the Star Dou Forest just to watch me fight a Vajra Scaled White Dragon. They'd spend half the time panicking and the other half trying to steal the spirit bone. Going alone was much cleaner."
"Speaking of spirit bones, did I mention that I got a torso bone. It gave me two pretty good spirit skills."
[The System would like to disagree. The Host has received 2 spirit skills that are not "pretty good", but excellent.]
[In case the Host forgot, here is the details of the spirit bone skill:
Skill 1:
Immortal Dragon's Last Breath: Grants the user the ability to revive after death. Usable once per year.
Side Effects: Will lose 1 level of cultivation. Ignorable after reaching level 100.
Skill 2:
Heavenly Dragon Roar: Releases waves of dragon aura that instantly shatters all spirit energy barriers, defensive arrays, and low-to-top tier domains within a 1-kilometer radius, while stunning targets below Level 90 into a coma. Targets below level 95 will have major concussions, while targets below level 98 will face mental backlash. ]
"Shut up, Helios! I just said it in a flow." Wang Luan mentally slapped himself.
Yuehua fell silent for a moment, remembering his description of the terrifying battle and the two-hour mental struggle against the dragon's residual soul. She gently reached down, her fingers lacing into his strong hand, giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze beneath the wide folds of her sleeve.
"Just don't make a habit of vanishing for half a year," she murmured softly. "My heart can't take too many of those surprises."
Wang Luan's relaxed smile softened. He wrapped his fingers firmly around hers, squeezing back. "Never again, Yue Yue. From now on, wherever I go, I'll make sure you know."
They walked hand-in-hand down the grand avenue, turning off the main thoroughfare toward the upper-tier artisan quarter. Here, the noise of the common market began to fade, replaced by the quiet, exclusive atmosphere of luxury boutiques catering exclusively to royal nobility, high-ranking Spirit Hall officials, and wealthy sect masters.
Their first stop was the Cloud-Weave Pavilion, the most prestigious tailoring house in Heaven Dou City. The shop itself was a massive three-story structure built from polished sandalwood, smelling faintly of lavender and expensive incense. Rolls of rare silk, spirit-beast wool, and gold-threaded brocade were displayed like precious treasures behind glass cases.
The moment they stepped through the heavy double doors, a crisp brass bell chimed softly.
An elderly shopkeeper dressed in immaculate silk robes stepped forward with a practiced, deferential bow. However, as his eyes landed on Tang Yuehua—even with her face partially veiled—his eyes widened in instant recognition.
"Ah! Mistress Tang!" The shopkeeper bowed even lower, his tone instantly shifting into profound respect. "What a rare honor for our humble establishment! We received the fresh shipment of Cloud-Silk from the southern provinces just yesterday, as well as the dark moon-satin you inquired about last month. I had intended to send a clerk to the Moon Pavilion this afternoon!"
"There was no need for the extra trouble, Shopkeeper Lin," Yuehua replied smoothly, her voice cool, melodic, and perfectly composed. "I decided to stroll through the district today. However, I am not here for myself."
She stepped slightly to the side, gesturing toward Wang Luan.
"I need a complete set of high-formal attire for my companion here. It must be fitting for Prince Xue Qinghe's Autumn Banquet in two days."
Shopkeeper Lin turned his gaze toward Wang Luan, his sharp, experienced merchant eyes quickly assessing the young man. At first glance, Wang Luan looked remarkably casual, almost unbothered by the grand luxury of the store. But Shopkeeper Lin was no fool; having served high-ranking Spirit Masters and grand nobles for decades, he immediately noticed the young man's flawless posture and an underlying aura of absolute power that suggested he could flatten the entire building without blinking.
"Of course, of course!" Shopkeeper Lin bowed to Wang Luan with equal deference. "A companion of Mistress Tang deserves nothing less than our master artisan's finest work. Right this way, noble sir!"
Wang Luan was led into a private fitting suite on the upper floor, where three master tailors immediately surrounded him with measuring tapes, fabric samples, and mirrors.
Yuehua sat on a plush velvet armchair near the tea table, comfortably sipping a cup of white pine tea while taking complete control of the selection process.
"Not that shade of red," Yuehua commented calmly as a tailor held up a vibrant crimson robe. "It clashes with his complexion, and it's far too flashy for his personality."
"What about this deep gold brocade, Mistress Tang?" another tailor offered eagerly. "Embroidered with dragon-scale patterns!"
"Too dandy," Wang Luan chimed in from the fitting platform, wincing slightly as a tailor measured his shoulders. "I'm going to a banquet, not trying to impersonate Emperor Xue Ye."
Yuehua let out a quiet, melodic chuckle behind her tea cup. "He is correct. Bring out the dark obsidian silk—the piece with the subtle silver thread weaving along the hem and collar."
Shopkeeper Lin's eyes lit up. "Ah! The Sovereign Night Silk! An exquisite choice, Mistress Tang! It was spun from the cocoons of hundred-year Moonlight Silkworms and dyed in deep indigo-black."
Within twenty minutes, the tailors had adjusted the inner lining and brought out the finished ensemble.
Wang Luan stepped off the fitting platform, smoothing down the front of the new robe. The main robe was a deep, midnight navy that looked almost black in ambient light, cut cleanly to fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Subtle silver embroidery ran along the wide cuffs and high collar, forming abstract, elegant cloud and sword motifs that flickered faint silver under the sunlight. A silver-plated leather belt clasped his waist, holding a pale jade pendant, while a light, slate-gray outer mantle draped loosely over his left shoulder.
When he walked out from behind the screen, Yuehua paused with her tea cup halfway to her lips.
Her clear eyes scanned him from head to toe. Gone was the dusty traveler who had tumbled onto her sofa two days ago. Standing before her was a man of breathtaking stature—possessing the refined elegance of a top-tier noble, yet radiating the subtle, unshakeable dominance of a Titled Douluo.
"Well?" Wang Luan rolled his shoulders slightly, turning toward her with a slight grin. "Does the lazy sword master pass your inspection, my lady?"
Yuehua set her tea cup down, standing up from the armchair. She walked over to him, her silk slippers making no sound on the thick carpet. She reached up, her delicate fingers adjusting the collar of his robe, smoothing out a faint crease over his chest.
"It will do," she said softly, though the warmth in her eyes was unmistakable. "In fact... it fits you far too well. I might have to keep a close eye on you at the banquet so the younger noble ladies don't get any foolish ideas."
Wang Luan leaned down slightly, whispering close to her ear, "They can look all they want, Yue Yue. But my heart—and my bed—already belong to a certain Soul Sage."
Yuehua's cheeks flushed a delicate pink beneath her veil. She gave his chest a light, warning tap. "We are in public, Wang. Mind your manners."
"Shopkeeper Lin!" Yuehua called out, turning back to the bowing store owner. "Wrap this set, along with two matching white silk under-robes. Send the bill directly to the Moon Pavilion."
"At once, Mistress Tang! It will be delivered to your estate within the hour!"
Leaving the Cloud-Weave Pavilion, they wandered deeper into the high-end district. The midday sun was warm, casting long shadows across the white stone plazas.
As they walked past a bustling row of artisanal food stalls that catered to high-end shoppers, a rich, sweet aroma drifted through the air.
Wang Luan stopped in his tracks, his eyes locking onto a small, immaculate stall selling candied hawthorns.
"Now that," Wang Luan said, his eyes lighting up with genuine interest, "is something I haven't had in way too long."
Yuehua glanced at the humble food stall, then at the elegant crowd of nobles walking nearby.
"Wang, we are in the upper noble district. It is hardly appropriate for the Mistress of the Moon Pavilion and her companion to stand on the sidewalk eating street snacks."
"Nonsense," Wang Luan said smoothly, already stepping over to the stall. "Good food doesn't care about noble etiquette. Also, back at Clear Sky City, you would devour them like a hungry wolf."
Before she could object, he purchased two sticks of bright red candied hawthorns. He walked back to her, holding out one of the candied hawthorn sticks with a broad, infectious grin.
"Try one. It's sour, sweet, and crunchy. Far better than the tiny, dry sugar cubes they serve at the imperial tea parties."
Yuehua looked at the glistening, candied fruit, then up at his expectant eyes. She sighed softly in defeat, lifting a corner of her pale indigo veil with one hand while taking the wooden stick with the other. She took a small, hesitant bite.
The thin shell of crisp sugar shattered under her teeth, followed by the tart, refreshing tang of the hawthorn fruit.
Her eyes brightened faintly in surprise.
"Well?" Wang Luan asked, leaning in close with a smirk.
"It is... surprisingly good," Yuehua admitted softly, taking another delicate bite. "Though if my students saw me eating candied fruit on a public street, my reputation as a teacher would be completely ruined."
"Let it be ruined," Wang Luan chuckled, taking a large bite out of his own stick. "Living under a rigid mask twenty-four hours a day sounds exhausting. You need a break from being 'Mistress Tang' once in a while."
Yuehua looked at him as he happily chewed his snack, the warm sunlight catching his features. A quiet sense of peace settled over her heart. In the grand, cutthroat world of Heaven Dou politics—where every smile was calculated and every noble house schemed for power—he was the only person who treated her simply as Yuehua. Not as the useless daughter of the Clear Sky Sect, nor as the untouchable cultural figurehead of the capital, but just as the woman he loved.
As they continued walking, Wang Luan's sharp gaze passively swept across the crowd.
Near a marble fountain at the intersection of the main avenue, he noticed a squad of six Spirit Hall guards wearing silver-and-white heavy armor, escorting a luxurious carriage bearing the emblem of the Platinum Temple.
[System notification: Target identified—Grand Bishop Platinum Salas's personal escort squad. Escorting high-tier spirit materials to the Platinum Temple.]
Helios's clear voice echoed smoothly within Wang Luan's mind.
"Spirit Hall is certainly keeping a high profile in the capital these days," Wang Luan thought silently, keeping his expression entirely neutral as his eyes brushed past the armored guards. "Salas seems to be expanding his reach."
[Analysis confirms Platinum Temple guards have increased city patrols by 22% over the last trimester.]
[Primary objective: Monitoring political movements following the death of the Third Prince and tracking independent Soul Masters entering Heaven Dou City.]
"Let them patrol," Wang Luan mused inwardly. "As long as they don't cross my path, they can march until their boots wear out."
Their final destination of the afternoon was a quiet, narrow street tucked behind the grand imperial library—the Scholar's Quarter.
Unlike the flashy commercial avenues, this street was lined with ancient bookshops, rare manuscript dealers, and master instrument makers. The air here smelled of old paper, polished wood, and dried rosin.
They entered a quiet, elegant shop named The Harmony House. The walls were lined with various musical instruments—carved zithers, intricate harps, polished jade flutes, and stringed lutes made from rare spirit-wood.
An old craftsman with silver hair and wire-rimmed spectacles emerged from the workshop in the back.
Seeing Yuehua, he gave a warm, familiar smile. "Ah, Lady Yuehua. Welcome back. Is your harp in need of restringing before the imperial banquet?"
"Not the harp today, Master Chen," Yuehua replied warmly, stepping into the peaceful shop. "My companion is looking for a proper spirit-bamboo flute. His old one did not survive his recent travels."
"A flute player?" Master Chen turned to Wang Luan with renewed interest. He walked over to a glass display case near the back, unlocking it with a brass key to pull out a long, dark jade box.
Inside rested a magnificent flute carved from deep green, hundred-year Obsidian Spirit Bamboo. The body was smooth as silk, inlaid with thin silver wire along the finger holes, and weighted with a heavy tassel of white silk.
"This piece was crafted by my own hands three years ago," Master Chen said proudly. "The bamboo grew near a clear mountain spring, absorbing natural spiritual energy. It produces a tone that is clear, resonant, and exceptionally deep."
Wang Luan lifted the flute from the box. The dark jade-bamboo was cool to the touch, perfectly balanced in his hand. He ran his thumb over the polished finger holes, sensing the natural, pure resonance within the material.
"Try it," Yuehua said softly, standing beside him with her hands folded gently over her waist. "Let me hear if six months in the wild ruined your touch."
Wang Luan smirked. He lifted the dark green flute to his lips.
He didn't use a single drop of spirit power, nor did he trigger any domain. He simply closed his eyes and blew a soft, effortless stream of air into the instrument.
A single, long note rose into the air of the quiet shop.
It was a note of profound clarity—mellow, deep, and echoing with a haunting, bittersweet beauty.
The tone rippled through the wooden room, smoothing away the ambient noise of the city outside.
Wang Luan moved his fingers fluidly over the holes, playing a short, improvised melody—a soft, flowing tune that mimicked the gentle rustle of bamboo leaves in a mountain breeze and the quiet flow of a secluded stream.
Master Chen stood frozen, his eyes wide with absolute awe.
Yuehua closed her eyes, letting the familiar, hypnotic melody wash over her. A sudden wave of nostalgia touched her heart. Eight years ago, in the quiet back courtyards of the Clear Sky Sect, she had been a broken, hopeless girl, isolated by her inability to cultivate past Level Nine. And one moonlit night, she had followed this very sound to a rooftop, finding a young, seventeen-year-old Wang Luan sitting under the stars.
He had played for her then, listening to her grief without a single trace of judgment, treating her with a warmth she had never known.
When the final note faded into the silent shop, leaving only the lingering vibration of the bamboo, Wang Luan lowered the flute, opening his eyes with a satisfied nod.
"Excellent craft, Master Chen," Wang Luan said smoothly. "The balance is perfect."
Master Chen snapped out of his trance, exhaling a long, trembling breath. "Brilliant... Truly brilliant! Young master, your breath control and musical soul are extraordinary! In the hands of a true master, this humble piece of bamboo has found its rightful owner. I will charge you only half the standard price!"
Wang Luan chuckled, handing over a heavy pouch of gold coins without hesitation. "Keep the full amount, Master Chen. A good instrument is worth every coin."
By the time they left The Harmony House, the evening sun was sinking below the western horizon, painting the sky over Heaven Dou City in brilliant shades of crimson, gold, and deep violet.
The streetlamps along the main avenues were beginning to flicker to life, casting a warm, amber glow over the cobblestones.
Wang Luan walked carrying the velvet-wrapped box containing his new silk robes in one hand, while his other hand remained securely wrapped around Yuehua's soft fingers. The dark green bamboo flute was tucked neatly into his belt.
"So," Yuehua murmured softly as they walked side-by-side toward the Moon Pavilion, her head resting lightly against his arm, "we have your formal robes, your new flute, and your appetite satisfied. Are you ready for Prince Xue Qinghe's banquet in two days?"
Wang Luan looked down at her, the evening light illuminating her elegant profile and the silver hair spilling over her shoulders.
"With you by my side?" Wang Luan smiled gently, his eyes filled with absolute calm and unshakeable confidence. "I'm ready for whatever political games the First Prince wants to play. Let him bring out his noble court, his ministers, and his schemes."
He squeezed her hand tightly.
"As long as we get to play our duet, it's going to be a fine evening."