Ugly—so what?

The moment the mirror was held up before her, Yanzi suddenly remembered something—her face had already been ruined!

Just moments ago, when she’d called someone else an ugly monster, she’d said it with such righteous confidence, as though she herself were still a great beauty, as though she still had the right to say it!

But now!

Her face…

Her face was crisscrossed with countless gashes, flesh mingled with tattered fragments of white gauze, forming an endless web of interwoven “X” marks across her entire face!

Blood streaked down her face, gruesome and horrifying—but that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was that her right ear was gone entirely! Only the left one remained, the asymmetry, combined with that bloodied face, making her look like an absolute monster.

Yanzi froze completely, her empty eyes reflecting her own image in the mirror, her mind going utterly blank.

How could this be? How could this have happened?

It was a hundred times, a thousand times worse than anything she had imagined.

“No…”

She wanted to cry out, wanted to knock the mirror away, but the moment she moved, it pulled at the wound on her neck, and the pain was so intense she couldn’t even lift her hand.

“No… take it away, Han Ziqing, take it away right now, I don’t want to see it, get lost! That’s not me! That is absolutely not me!”

She howled like a madwoman, glaring venomously at Ziqing.

Ziqing sneered inwardly. “Too ugly to even recognize yourself—now that’s truly shameless.”

Those words struck like a sedative, instantly silencing Yanzi.

She stared coldly at Han Ziqing, and after a moment, suddenly shouted in fury, “You’re uglier than me! Han Ziqing, what are you so smug about? You’re far uglier than I am! You’re as ugly as an old demon hag! Han Ziqing, let me tell you—I will never give you the antidote! You can go on wearing that face forever, and you’ll never be able to cover it up!”

She hurled her warning with fierce conviction—and indeed, she held a bargaining chip. She knew the secret behind Ziqing’s face, and that secret was the antidote itself. No one knew exactly how her face had been ruined, what kind of poison it was—even the most divine physician alive couldn’t cure it.

“Still talking tough even now—won’t shed a tear until she sees the coffin!” Yingzi said coldly, unable to hold back from stepping forward, but Jun Beiyue stopped him with a single glance.

He understood—at a moment like this!

Even if someone told Ziqing how beautiful she was, it wouldn’t comfort her at all; such words would ring utterly hollow.

By the same token, telling Yanzi how ugly she was would do nothing either—she refused to accept it in her heart, and no amount of telling would change that.

Beauty and ugliness were, in the end, whatever they themselves decided them to be!

Ziqing showed no anger at all, asking calmly instead, “What would it take for you to be willing to give me the antidote?”

“Never!” Yanzi seemed afraid that any hesitation would doom her, snapping out immediately, sharp and fierce. “Don’t even think about it. Not for your entire life. Even if you kill me today, you’ll never get it!”

However pitiful her current state, Yanzi was no fool—she knew the secret of that antidote was her only guarantee of survival.

Once she revealed the secret, heaven only knew how Han Ziqing might deal with her afterward!

She wouldn’t tell. Not for the rest of her life.

Ziqing slowly turned the mirror back toward herself, studying her own reflection for a long moment, then looked back at Yanzi. Unlike Yanzi’s righteous fury, she spoke plainly, each word firm and resolute. “I think… I’m more beautiful than you.”

Wearing such a hideous face and still saying something like that—it should have been enough to make the whole scene burst out laughing, dismissing the woman as not arrogant but simply pathetic, utterly lacking in self-awareness.

But in that moment, in the eyes of everyone present, Han Ziqing was anything but a self-deluded, ugly woman. Her gaze was steady, her manner composed, her confidence unshakable—she wasn’t laughable, nor was she being arrogant. Her beauty came precisely from that bone-deep confidence, that innate nobility.

She wasn’t pretty at all—yet she was beautiful, breathtakingly so, radiant enough to topple kingdoms.

Even Yanzi found herself shaken by that declaration, taking a long moment to recover. Why, in front of this woman, did she feel a persistent sense of inferiority rising up from somewhere deep inside—she, who had always been proud, who never admitted defeat, now on the verge of admitting she was inferior to her?

“No…” she roared, refusing to accept this terrifying feeling. “No! You’re the crazy one! Take a good look in the mirror yourself—you’re the ugliest one here! I’m not ugly! I’m far better than you! Let me tell you—without my antidote, you’ll be an ugly woman forever!”

The antidote!

She’d let it slip again—however mad her fury, deep down she remained perfectly lucid.

Ziqing’s lips curled into a cold smile. She held the mirror up to Yanzi’s face with one hand, and with the other, drew out a dagger, pressing the cold blade against her cheek.

Yanzi startled at this. “What are you doing?”

“Look closely,” Ziqing said, wasting no words, letting action speak instead. In one swift motion, she slashed a fresh line from Yanzi’s chin upward.

The movement came so fast Yanzi had no time even to regret it.

Another cut, layered atop the existing scars!

“How about now? Uglier than me, aren’t you?” Ziqing asked calmly, yet everyone could see that her calm was terrifying, more dangerous than any storm—no one could possibly talk her down at this point.

“You dare! Han Ziqing, I’ll kill you! Kill you!”

If Yanzi had had the strength to move right now, even knowing that moving meant death, she would have thrown caution to the wind without hesitation.

She wished she could tear the woman before her limb from limb with her glare alone!

But she could do nothing—nothing except scream in fury.

Daring wasn’t something you declared.

It was something you did.

Against Yanzi’s twisted, furious face, Ziqing’s light, mocking smile seemed almost too elegant by comparison. She raised her hand gracefully—and cut again.

“Ah…”

Yanzi’s cry came sharp and sudden, watching fresh blood well up from the already-crusted wounds on her face.

Heavens, her face was already like this—and now two more cuts!

She couldn’t even bear to imagine it!

“Han Ziqing, you will never get that antidote, never!”

How pathetic—when someone no longer fears your threats, and you still try to use that same leverage to intimidate them?

“Now—am I uglier than you?” Ziqing asked again.

“Forever more beautiful than you, forever!”

Yanzi would never admit it, not even if it killed her—stubbornly refusing, because this was her final line, her last stand. She would not lose. She could not lose.

But then, unexpectedly, Ziqing produced a water flask she carried on her person and, without warning, splashed a face full of water onto Yanzi.

“What are you doing!” Yanzi cried, frightened now.

Ziqing said nothing, but calmly took out her own handkerchief and began, with her own hands, to wipe Yanzi’s face clean.

Yanzi froze for a moment, then suddenly understood, shaking her head violently. “Get away, I don’t want this! You wretch, get away from me!”

Ziqing paid her no mind, one hand pinning Yanzi’s head still, the other wiping her face clean, silent and wordless, yet radiating a dangerous aura the entire time—one that made clear even without Jun Beiyue present, this was a woman not to be trifled with.

Bit by bit, the blood and shreds of white gauze were wiped away from Yanzi’s face, and the true extent of the damage gradually came into view.

By the time Ziqing had wiped her face completely clean, everyone present couldn’t help gasping audibly.