Chapter 68

Ruan Xuezong couldn’t help but sigh in admiration.

Twenty years ago, Du Qing’e had used her beauty to sow chaos throughout the martial world of the Central Plains. Countless admirers had fallen under her skirt, and to achieve her goals, she had stirred up storms and even wiped out entire families. Numerous heroes of the martial world had been toyed with and discarded by her without mercy. Peacock Manor was just one of them. Her deeds had earned her such infamy across the Central Plains that wherever she went, people shouted for her head.

Yet time was merciless. Even after twenty years, she remained the most beautiful woman in the Western Regions.

Even more remarkably, she had settled down in the Western Regions and become the queen of a kingdom, her status second only to the Chasang King. Judging by the king’s attitude toward her, Ruan Xuezong boldly guessed that Du Qing’e likely held even greater power than him. She was the true ruler of Chasang.

The Holy Son and the queen were still locked in confrontation.

Du Qing’e said, “While your mother is grateful that he saved you, the fact that you were bitten by that snake is truly suspicious. This slave happened to be there, using such a crude bloodletting method. You are the Holy Son now—you’re no longer a child. How can you act on mere whim and blindly trust one person?”

The glaring -20,000 favorability still hung in the air.

From that favorability reading alone, Ruan Xuezong could clearly see the source of Queen Du Qing’e’s killing intent. She was furious at his meddling, and her petty scheme had been thoroughly exposed.

“If Mother is grateful to him, then don’t kill him!” Wu Yao stubbornly defended Ruan Xuezong, like a little beast unable to hide his protective instincts.

“This slave has an unknown background and didn’t come from the Banishment Land. He cannot be allowed to stay.” Du Qing’e seemed provoked. A faint distortion crept across her beautiful features, and the killing intent she had hidden so well resurfaced.

Wu Yao remained oblivious. He said, “A few months ago, I visited the Central Plains and learned a saying there: repay a meal’s kindness with a spring’s gushing water—let alone a life-saving grace. I won’t let him die. Mother, you come from the Central Plains. How could you forget such a simple principle?”

The two went back and forth over Ruan Xuezong’s life, the atmosphere tense as drawn swords. Inside the palace, the guards and maids trembled in fear, not daring to breathe.

Ruan Xuezong suspected that the image Du Qing’e had always cultivated for herself was that of a doting mother who was utterly helpless against her youngest son. Seeing Wu Yao defend someone so fiercely must have left her grinding her teeth in frustration until she finally stormed off in a huff.

Though Ruan Xuezong feared nothing, his head seemed safe—for the moment, at least.

As for the favorability notification, Ruan Xuezong had a vague idea why it had appeared. There must be players nearby.

Ruan Xuezong had just stepped out of the Holy Son’s Palace when a man approached from the opposite direction.

The moment he recognized the man’s face, Ruan Xuezong quickly concealed himself among a group of bowing guards. He heard the guards respectfully call out, “Your Highness.”

Ruan Xuezong had learned a little about the Western Regions. In these kingdoms great and small, all royal heirs—including the children born before the queen’s marriage—were addressed as “Your Highness,” which conferred great prestige.

This man was Du Rulan.

For this appearance, he donned a luxurious black robe embroidered with gold threads. As he strode through the white jade halls of his own stronghold, he revealed his true self without reservation. His strikingly handsome, almost otherworldly features carried a hint of languidness, with long hair cascading like a waterfall, loose and unbound. He looked every bit the elegant noble scion, yet his aura was like the fleeting, deadly flower of impermanence blooming atop the black karmic flames of the other shore, as described in Buddhist scriptures—radiant with peril.

This mother and son pair knew well how to leverage their appearances. Most of the palace maids stole furtive glances at him. In Ruan Xuezong’s eyes, however, he was nothing more than a jade-faced demon cloaked in human skin, his hands stained with blood.

In white robes, he was the epitome of dignified grace and otherworldly elegance, like a eminent Buddhist monk. In black, he hid nothing.

Ruan Xuezong even caught a whiff of sandalwood incense drifting in the air. Keeping his head bowed with an expressionless face, he felt a twinge of sarcasm in his heart: the one who killed the most perfumed himself with the thickest incense.

Du Rulan strolled idly through the corridor, his attitude supremely arrogant. He regarded the others as insignificant specks of dust on the ground. Yet suddenly, he paused before Ruan Xuezong and asked, “Are you the one who saved the Holy Son?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Ruan Xuezong replied vaguely. It did not seem like the man had recognized him.

“The hand you used for that incision was remarkably precise—like that of a trained martial artist.” Du Rulan’s narrow eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at Ruan Xuezong’s head with keen interest.

As the man drew closer, a scent of blood mingled with sandalwood enveloped him, carrying a familiar yet elusive note. Ruan Xuezong realized he must have smelled it in the past two days but could not quite place it.

Facing the question, Ruan Xuezong answered even more cautiously. “Just luck.”

That response seemed to strike a chord. A faint smile gradually spread across Du Rulan’s face. “I’ve heard there’s been a highly skilled beauty from the Central Plains in the Western Regions lately. This Central Plains Beauty has been stirring up earth-shattering events everywhere. From the first time I heard of it, I’ve been waiting for this day… Now I have to believe in fate. I haven’t even done anything, and yet a little white bird has flown right into my palace.”

By the end, his amusement was impossible to conceal.

Ruan Xuezong’s heart tightened. He jerked his head up and saw the certainty in Du Rulan’s expression—eyes brimming with fascination, thin lips curved in arrogant mirth.

“How did you know?” Ruan Xuezong’s brows furrowed tightly. His disguise wasn’t foolproof, but it should have been enough to fool people.

Since he’d been made, Ruan Xuezong dropped the pretense. As he spoke, the palm behind his back quietly gathered strength.

Du Rulan raised an eyebrow. “Manor Lord Ruan, you’re underestimating yourself too much. Your unparalleled charisma is unmistakable. Even if you donned rough cloth, smeared your face with dirt, or turned to ash, I would still recognize you.”

Ruan Xuezong scoffed. “Heh.”

If he didn’t want to say, so be it. When it came to disguise techniques, Ruan Xuezong’s amateur skills were no match for this expert. To this day, he still wondered whether that cascade of long black hair was real or fake.

His gaze flicked toward the corridor as he mentally mapped an escape route. Ruan Xuezong was well-practiced in making a getaway.

Du Rulan saw through his stance at a glance.

With profound meaning, he said slowly, “Ruan Xuezong, you needn’t be hostile toward me. I know why you’ve come to the Western Regions and infiltrated this place. As long as you don’t cause a major disturbance in Chasang, I can pretend nothing happened and keep your secret for you.”

Like hell I will.

Ruan Xuezong grew wary. He knew this man was adept at beguiling hearts.

He feared falling into some trap if he listened too long. Moreover, he hesitated because he had clashed with Du Rulan more than once before and knew the man’s strength was unfathomable.

But this time, he sensed something different—the man’s inner energy reserves were severely depleted. Under the sunlight, his pale face revealed a rare fragility and for a grandmaster.

In this state, a single palm strike might grievously wound him, allowing Ruan Xuezong to seize the chance and flee. As long as he ran fast enough, Chasang’s tens of thousands of elite soldiers couldn’t catch him.

His thoughts raced in an instant. Ruan Xuezong steeled his resolve, his cold eyes lifting as he surged with power to deliver a palm strike. At that moment, an indignant youthful voice interrupted him.

“—Agu Ling, what are you saying to my royal brother? You’ve been talking for so long.” The speaker hurried over with rapid footsteps.

Ruan Xuezong paused. “…”

His killing intent dissipated instantly. For a true expert, a shift in intent was all it took—one missed moment, and the opportunity crumbled. “Nothing, Holy Son.”

Wu Yao seemed unconvinced, his clear brows furrowing. But he did not press the issue. His golden eyes turned to Du Rulan. “Brother, have you come to visit me?”

“Yes.” Du Rulan went along smoothly, reaching out to ruffle the youth’s white hair. “You were bitten by a venomous snake—it must have been serious. Why aren’t you resting in bed?”

Ruan Xuezong clearly saw the faint hook at the corner of Du Rulan’s mouth—a smile tinged with subtle mockery and perfunctory indifference.

His heart chilled. Chasang was an ancient kingdom that had risen after Loulan’s fall, once the overlord of the deserts. Now, from top to bottom, it was manipulated by the Demonic Sects. The sole heir, Wu Yao—the Holy Son and spiritual leader—appeared to be a frail, blind youth who called Du Qing’e “Mother” and Du Rulan “Brother.” This Western Regions nation was doomed.

Looking again at this legendary white-haired, golden-eyed Holy Son of willful temperament, Ruan Xuezong felt as if he were gazing at a crystal-clear amber. The youth was like the insect trapped within—seemingly pristine and intact, dazzlingly beautiful, yet encased in layers of resinous sap.

Du Rulan was merely humoring Wu Yao and had not exposed Ruan Xuezong’s identity, just as he claimed. He seemed willing to help keep the secret.

Yet Ruan Xuezong did not fully relax.

Not until Du Rulan chuckled lightly and turned to leave did the furrow in Ruan Xuezong’s brow ease. He could not fathom what was going on with this mother-son duo—they were clearly not of one mind.

Since his identity remained hidden and he was outwardly still a slave, Ruan Xuezong had to continue his duties. During this time, Du Qing’e summoned him once more and probed shallowly at his background. Each time, Ruan Xuezong responded flawlessly, without a single leak.

While questioning him, Ruan Xuezong noted that the Chasang King made no appearance. A curtain woven of Western Regions jewels draped over the bedchamber, blocking most of the view. Ruan Xuezong could only see that the royal couple sat intimately close once more, inseparable as ever. Their cloying affection surpassed ninety-nine percent of the loving pairs in the world.

Blocked by the beaded curtain, Ruan Xuezong could not see clearly, but the air carried an extremely familiar fragrance.

The Holy Son took a couple of quick steps forward and asked, “Is Father ill again? Mother, may I go behind the curtain to see him?”

Du Qing’e replied indifferently, “Don’t. He has an illness in the air—better not pass it to you.” She denied her youngest son’s request, and the Chasang King voiced no objection. He lay weakly in his beauty’s embrace, the two forming a world of devoted marital bliss that no outsider could intrude upon.

“Understood.” The Holy Son pressed his pale-thin lips together and withdrew, pulling Ruan Xuezong along.

They arrived at the rear garden. Almost simultaneously, Ruan Xuezong heard a system prompt.

【Congratulations, young hero. The chance encounter quest “Person Search” has been completed.】

Ruan Xuezong looked over and saw a player dressed in Western Regions attire, looking bewildered. The player muttered, “I was just wandering around here randomly. How did this chance encounter quest complete itself? That’s too inexplicable—I didn’t even see anyone…”

It was none other than Five-Colored Mottled Black, crouched in the bushes and talking to himself.

Ruan Xuezong hadn’t seen these players in days, and he realized he actually missed them a bit. He sighed inwardly at how full of holes Chasang was—like a sieve that let anyone slip through. With a leap of qinggong, he descended before Five-Colored Mottled Black like an immortal. “Young hero Five-Colored Mottled Black, what quest are you doing here?”

“A chance encounter quest to find an old man,” Five-Colored Mottled Black blurted out instinctively. A few seconds later, the dazed player realized who was speaking and his eyes widened. “Aaaah! It’s Zongzong!”

Across the entire Rivers and Lakes, only Ruan Xuezong called him “Young hero Five-Colored Mottled Black”!

“Yes, it’s me,” Ruan Xuezong said coolly.

Five-Colored Mottled Black grew even more shocked. “Aaaah! It’s really Zongzong! Hubby Zongzong, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”