The piece ended, and the whole hall fell silent.

The outcome was unmistakable — Ziqing had won. She should have been cheering, reveling in triumph.

Yet she said nothing, remaining composed and quiet. That astonishing brilliance still surged through the hearts of everyone present, but to her, it seemed no more than an ordinary occurrence.

She rose slowly, bowed slightly to Xuanyuan Lige. “Thank you for your trouble, Young Master Xuanyuan.” With that, she walked calmly back to Jun Beiyue’s side.

And yet it was precisely this understated manner, compared to Chu Feiyan’s arrogant, self-important display, that left an even more powerful impression on everyone.

She stood beside Jun Beiyue, then finally lifted her gaze toward Chu Feiyan, whose face had gone pale with shock. Silently, the corner of her lips curved into the faintest hint of contempt — sinister and haughty.

Chu Feiyan felt something choke in her chest, humiliated beyond words, with no chance to vent her fury — she didn’t even dare show her anger openly in front of everyone.

Only now did it dawn on her — Han Ziqing’s understated manner had, in fact, been the most arrogant, most contemptuous display of all.

This woman’s docile silence from the very start hadn’t been restraint at all — it had been disdain, contempt so complete she hadn’t even deemed her worth speaking to!

And she herself had foolishly gotten worked up, picking fights with her, matching wits against her!

She had lost this round completely — not merely losing at zither skill, but taking a savage blow from this woman, and only now, belatedly, feeling the sting of it.

She clenched her fists tightly, glaring venomously at Ziqing, but Ziqing had already looked away, ignoring her entirely.

“Han Ziqing!”

Chu Feiyan roared inwardly, nearly crying out loud, forcing herself to bite it back — crying out now would only cost her even more face.

Xuanyuan Lige simply stood beside his zither. Emperor Tianhui said nothing, and no one else dared speak either. The hall fell completely silent.

Then Jun Beiyue spoke up. “Young Master Xuanyuan, you still haven’t announced the results.”

“Ha, isn’t the result obvious enough? The Princess of Prince Yao and the Princess Imperial are evenly matched — the Princess of Prince Yao merely edged ahead by a small margin,” Consort Yi said coldly.

But Xuanyuan Lige said flatly, “No. Consort Yi is mistaken.”

Mistaken? Did that mean Han Ziqing hadn’t actually won?

“How so?” Emperor Tianhui asked at once, alarmed.

“What do you mean?” Chu Feiyan too was startled, tensing immediately. Xuanyuan Lige’s standards of judgment were naturally different from ordinary people’s — could there still be a chance for reversal?

For a moment, everyone tensed. But then Xuanyuan Lige lifted the zither with both hands and walked toward Ziqing. “Your Highness’s talent for fingering is something I myself cannot match. This instrument is called the Wuzheng — legend says it can be played without touching the strings at all. I have long searched for someone worthy of mastering it, and never expected to find her today. Please accept it, Your Highness.”

The Wuzheng!

This zither was equally renowned as the legendary “Blood Zither” among demon instruments!

The whole hall erupted into astonished murmurs — even Jun Beiyue looked genuinely startled.

The Wuzheng’s rarity lay in the fact that a master could play it suspended in the air, using the air currents stirred by finger movements alone to vibrate the strings and produce sound! The Blood Zither, when played to its absolute limit, could enthrall and manipulate the mind — known as “sound-slaying.” The Wuzheng, when played to its limit, could unleash the rebounding force of its strings to injure through sheer sound alone — known as “string-slaying.”

Setting aside that Xuanyuan Lige himself was offering it personally, the sheer rarity of the Wuzheng alone was staggering — in the entire world, there existed only two such demon instruments: the Blood Zither, and the Wuzheng.

Just as the crowd gasped in astonishment, Ziqing declined. “Young Master Xuanyuan, I cannot accept a reward for no true merit. Ziqing merely happened to be familiar with fingering technique by coincidence.”

This response caused an even greater stir throughout the hall — Ziqing was, without question, the center of everyone’s attention. Yet she remained unmoved. It was a habit carried over from her years as a mercenary — never accept a reward without earning it. Accepting undeserved gifts was worse than achieving no merit at all. No matter how precious the object, if it wasn’t rightfully hers, she always refused it.

Chu Feiyan’s phoenix eyes narrowed with such fury they nearly closed entirely. Han Ziqing, this illegitimate daughter, this used-up woman — what right did she have to be so proud?

Xuanyuan Lige paused for a moment, then suddenly smiled — his pale face, when smiling, was strikingly beautiful. “A zither master without a true confidant should retire his hands. A zither without a true confidant deserves to have its strings cut!”

With that, he stepped back, one hand steadying the body of the zither, the other lifting the strings, about to snap them in one swift motion!

“Wait!”

Jun Beiyue’s voice rang out, stopping him. “Since Young Master Xuanyuan wishes to offer this gift, I will accept the Wuzheng on her behalf. If, someday, Ziqing truly has no interest in it, I will return it to you, to do with as you please. How does that sound?”

Xuanyuan Lige hesitated a moment, and seeing that Ziqing said nothing further, he presented the Wuzheng. “Then I trouble Prince Yao to take it.”

With that, he turned toward Emperor Tianhui and said flatly, “Emperor of Great Zhou, in this literary contest of zither skill: the first movement, the two were evenly matched. The second movement, the Princess of Prince Yao wins…”

Before he could finish, Chu Feiyan cut in coldly. “What?”

“Shouldn’t the Princess Imperial have won that round? The Princess of Prince Yao didn’t even move!” Emperor Tianhui pointed out, displeased.

“The mood and style of the second piece was not suited to playing along at all — anyone with even a passing knowledge of musical theory would understand that attempting to duet would only make it clumsy and labored. Therefore, the Princess of Prince Yao’s choice not to play was the wisest course of action.”

The moment he said this, the hall erupted in murmurs again, and Chu Feiyan’s pale, powdered face immediately darkened.

“Anyone with even a passing knowledge of musical theory would understand”?

Her renowned zither skill, her most vigorous performance, the display everyone had just praised so highly — was now being publicly called ignorant?

Before the crowd could fully recover, Xuanyuan Lige continued, “The third movement, the Princess of Prince Yao wins. The fourth movement, the Princess of Prince Yao wins as well. In this literary trial, the Princess of Prince Yao did not merely edge ahead slightly — she won completely.”

Given Xuanyuan Lige’s status, even if his explanation seemed outlandish, it carried undeniable authority — and besides, his reasoning was sound and thorough. The crowd quickly murmured their agreement. Meanwhile, Chu Feiyan’s delicate face had twisted into something almost frightening. She ground her teeth, fists clenched — never, in her entire life, had she lost so thoroughly, so humiliatingly.

She had been so confident, ready to receive Xuanyuan Lige’s approval — yet from beginning to end, he hadn’t so much as glanced at her once.

She had assumed this would finally make Jun Beiyue see her in a new light, leave a deep impression on him — yet at this very moment, that man’s pride belonged entirely to Han Ziqing, and he had even accepted, on Ziqing’s behalf, an object she herself had publicly declined!

Today’s glory, today’s favor — all of it should have belonged to her!

Han Ziqing! It was all because of that woman’s presence! Chu Feiyan could no longer hold herself back, her hand gripping the whip at her waist. But at that very moment, Chu Tiange, who had remained silent all along, suddenly seized her hand, his voice low and cold. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to sever her hand tendons!” Chu Feiyan snapped coldly.

“There’s still the martial trial ahead — what are you in such a rush for? Ruin my plans and you’ll answer to me,” Chu Tiange warned. He admired Han Ziqing — the first time in his life a woman had earned his admiration. But if he couldn’t win her for his own use, he would never allow her to become an asset that only made Jun Beiyue stronger.

A note to readers: crawling and begging for recommendation votes… please don’t let them go to waste, there’s a fresh batch every day.