Another evening descended upon Lin'an.

Below the window, crowds began to gather. Tonight was the courtesan selection banquet. The Peach Blossom House blazed with lanterns, its streets alive with bustling crowds. Wealthy merchants and nobles vied for entry while vendors called their wares. Music drifted from the stage, making this corner of Lin'an the city's most vibrant spot.

"They say Du Qingdai is the favorite this year..."
"Her 'Drunken Dream' lingered in the halls for days..."
"And her twin sister, Du Qingshuang..."
"Now there's true talent..."
"Too bad Qingshuang isn't competing this year..."

"Su Xingyao has returned too."
A cold laugh from the back.
"Beauty fades, youth withers..."
"How can she compete with these young women?"

"Isn't she the one who danced the Rainbow Feather Dance?"
"Even Lord Zhao fell for her..."
"But now she's older, divorced..."
"Surely past her prime..."
"I heard Lord Zhao found someone else..."

Whispers of doubt about her return filled the air.

Su Xingyao gazed at her reflection, a slight smile playing on her red lips. Today, she wasn't here to relive past glories or prove anything. She wanted blood for blood!

As night fell, the House grew livelier. All eyes in the city focused here, waiting to see who would be crowned the new courtesan queen.

Suddenly, the curtains parted. A cold draft swept in with a tall figure. His black cape billowed, snow fox fur gleaming in the lamplight.

It was Jiang Yichuan.

"My Prince, you've finally arrived." A courtesan batted her eyes, taking his arm.

"Tonight is business." He smiled lightly, walking straight to the high platform. His eyes swept the crowd, seeming to search for something.

"Isn't that Prince Jing?" A rat-faced man whispered from a corner, glancing around nervously. "He's the late Prince Ping's orphan... the Emperor's own nephew... If Prince Ping hadn't died so young..."

"What then?"

His companion leaned forward, voice barely audible.
"This empire might—"

Footsteps approached. The man paled, hastily drowning his words in wine.

A fresh breeze carrying subtle fragrance dispersed the noise. Cheng Xuan entered in snow-white robes that shimmered in the light. His handsome features and phoenix eyes held an untouchable coldness as he sat beside Jiang Yichuan.

"Master Cheng!"
Several women gasped reverently.
"Are you judging today?"
"He's the dream husband of so many in Qiantang!"

As heir to Qiantang's wealthiest family, Cheng Xuan's every move captured countless maiden hearts. Yet he remained unmoved, his white robes floating as he turned to Jiang Yichuan, who was playing with prayer beads:

"My Prince, I hear an old acquaintance is competing today - Su Xingyao... Once Lin'an's famous courtesan."

Jiang Yichuan's beads paused momentarily. He laughed softly:
"How could I not know Lin'an's courtesans?"

The beads resumed their clicking, sandalwood scent wafting through the air. His tone revealed nothing.

The remaining three judges took their seats, each a renowned figure in Lin'an's cultural circles.

A ceremony master in blue robes ascended the platform and announced in a resonant voice:

"Tonight's selection for Top Courtesan!"
"Three rounds will determine the victor!"

His voice grew louder, commanding everyone's attention:
"First round: Dance!"
"Judged by grace and skill!"
"Second round: Tea!"
"Mastery of tea ceremony!"
"Third round: Zither!"
"Testing musical refinement!"

The master's voice turned stern:
"For fairness..."
"All contestants must wear veils!"
"Only eyes visible!"
"Judges will decide based on skill alone!"
"Beauty shall not sway judgment!"

The first drum beat silenced even the wind.

A contestant in red appeared, each step like treading invisible zither strings. Her veil made her eyes more mesmerizing. Below stage, candlelight flickered, blurring the line between dancer and moving shadows.

The drums suddenly intensified, sharp as blades cutting through night's silence. The urgent rhythm thundered like charging armies or rain pelting banana leaves.

Her flowing sleeves danced like water, fingertips like swimming dragons. Her movements recalled willows in wind, yet held hidden steel beneath their grace.

As the dance ended, applause erupted.

Cheng Xuan bowed slightly in assessment:
"Elegant movement, graceful form..."
"Though not flashy..."
"It carries classical charm."

But Jiang Yichuan shook his prayer beads casually:
"Classical, yes..."
"But lacking spirit..."
"Too perfectly proper, like reciting texts..."
"Missing true passion."

The gong sounded again.

The second contestant took the stage.
Her red robes blazed like fire.
Skirts whirling.
Like a burning lotus.
Blooming above the platform.

Her gaze was sharp as winter stars.
Behind the thin veil.
Even more piercing.
Silencing the entire hall...