The crowded Xuanwu Hall grew ever more silent as that streak of purple drew closer.

He wore a robe of dreamlike purple, flowing lightly with the breeze, his three thousand strands of silver hair falling loose and unbound, gleaming brilliantly in the light of the hall’s lamps, harmonizing with the purple of his robe to create an almost dreamlike, otherworldly vision — like an immortal banished from the ninth heaven, noble and untouchably cold, something to be admired from afar but never approached.

He wore no ornaments of any kind, carrying only a zither strapped to his back, wrapped in immaculate white cloth.

This was the second time Ziqing had seen him. Beyond her admiration, she also found herself puzzled — why was this man’s face so deathly pale, his tall, slender frame carrying a faint air of frailty? Was this simply the natural delicacy of a scholar and recluse, or was there some other hidden reason?

“This commoner, Xuanyuan Lige, greets the Emperor of Great Zhou.” He stopped and merely bowed, without kneeling.

“No need for such formality, no need at all. To think the Tenth Prince had the good fortune to invite Young Master Xuanyuan — truly a blessing for Great Zhou. Today the Western Chu Princess Imperial and my Princess of Prince Yao are to hold a literary contest, and we would be grateful if Young Master Xuanyuan would set the questions.”

Emperor Tianhui was exceedingly courteous. Xuanyuan Lige was no ordinary figure — he was the most renowned zither master on the continent of Longyuan, master of the world-treasured Blood Zither, a guest whom every ruler of every kingdom vied to invite. His presence in Great Zhou, and moreover during Western Chu’s envoy visit, was an enormous honor, one that would surely raise Great Zhou’s standing among the nations of Longyuan.

Jun Beiyue’s cold eyes narrowed slightly as he sized up Xuanyuan Lige, then glanced at the Tenth Prince, betraying nothing. Across the hall, Chu Tiange openly studied Xuanyuan Lige, secretly astonished — how had the Tenth Prince managed to invite a figure of such stature?

“The honor is mine,” Xuanyuan Lige said, saying little, his tone indifferent. If Jun Beiyue was a cold, devastating demon of war, then Xuanyuan Lige was a cold, ethereal spirit, so beautiful he made all else in heaven and earth seem dull by comparison.

He unstrapped the zither from his back and set it on the prepared stand. His slender fingers gave the strings a light pluck — and immediately, the crowd, who had been full of anticipation, felt a wave of disappointment ripple through them. Though the zither Xuanyuan Lige had brought today was precious, it was not the rare-to-behold Blood Zither.

Amid the murmurs of disappointment, he adjusted the strings unhurriedly, as if no one else existed, radiating a quiet stillness that made those around him fall silent as well without realizing it.

“Young Master Xuanyuan, what topic do you intend to set?” Emperor Tianhui couldn’t help but ask.

“Zither skill. Please prepare two zithers for the both of them,” Xuanyuan Lige said flatly.

Zither skill?

Ziqing felt a flicker of worry. If it were simply her against Chu Feiyan alone in a solo performance, she had a plan and good odds of winning. But seeing Xuanyuan Lige’s approach, it seemed this wouldn’t simply be a solo contest between the two of them.

How exactly did Xuanyuan Lige intend to test their zither skill?

Chu Feiyan, meanwhile, immediately arched her brow in delight. Though born in the martially-inclined Western Chu, she was skilled in song and dance and deeply versed in music — the zither was her specialty. No matter how the test was framed, she was certain to win!

“Fine, zither skill it is!” she called out, agreeing readily.

But then Xuanyuan Lige suddenly looked up, his tone indifferent. “I wasn’t asking you.”

This response was completely unexpected. Chu Feiyan flushed with embarrassment despite her thick skin. After a long pause, quiet snickers broke out around the hall. Chu Tiange’s brow furrowed — he had other important matters to attend to on this trip, and if not for the Emperor’s orders, he wouldn’t have wanted to bring his sister along at all. She was rapidly costing Western Chu its dignity.

Soon, two zithers were prepared. Ziqing and Chu Feiyan sat at their respective stands, one to the left and one to the right, facing Xuanyuan Lige from a distance of about ten paces.

Everyone waited eagerly to see exactly how this contest of zither skill would unfold. The Tenth Prince rubbed his hands nervously, unaware that Jun Beiyue had been standing behind him for quite some time now.

“Tenth Brother, who exactly helped you invite Xuanyuan Lige?” Jun Beiyue said coldly.

The Tenth Prince startled violently, nearly jumping out of his skin, and with nowhere to run, stammered uselessly, unable to answer.

Just then, Xuanyuan Lige lightly plucked the strings — a clear, ringing note.

“Great Zhou favors the guzheng and solo performance. Western Chu favors the mouth harp and playing together. To be fair, I will perform an original piece on the guzheng, and I ask the two of you to play along with me. How does that sound?” Xuanyuan Lige asked flatly.

The moment he said this, Jun Beiyue’s hand, resting on the Tenth Prince’s shoulder, tightened at once. This method of testing sounded fair enough on the surface, but in truth, it put Han Ziqing at a severe disadvantage.

How could Chu Feiyan not know the guzheng? Even if not a master, she’d certainly be familiar with it.

As for playing along together — unless one had deliberately trained for it, one would have no idea how at all. Playing in unison was already extremely difficult, and with a brand-new piece besides, this challenge was set almost cruelly precise.

Chu Feiyan immediately shot a provocative glance, brimming with confidence. Playing together was, after all, a central feature of Western Chu’s musical tradition, something she’d grown up practicing since childhood — and the guzheng was her specialty on top of that!

Ziqing ignored her provocation, her fine brows knitting slightly. Playing along in unison — she truly had no idea how to do that.

Paying no mind to the crowd’s murmurs, Xuanyuan Lige gave neither woman time to prepare. His long fingers swept across the strings in one motion, and the performance began.