Shangyuan City’s walls weren’t a complete closed circle. The western side of the city faced Black Water Marsh, so no walls were needed there—the terrifying Black Water Marsh was enough to block many people’s steps.

This area was already near the border. Beyond Black Water Marsh lay several small neighboring countries of the Great Wilderness: Lancang, Nanfu, and Pugan.

The endless Black Water Marsh spread like a black sea, staining the earth, seemingly forbidding human footsteps to tread casually.

Precisely because few dared explore Black Water Marsh, few knew that deep within existed some non-black small marshes, separated from the true Black Water Marsh by shallow water, allowing safe passage. But these small marshes only existed in the area near Shangyuan City’s rear, located deep within Black Water Marsh. For ordinary people to reach there, they’d first have to pass through the vast outer Black Water Marsh’s countless dangers. Only a few from Shangyuan’s palace city could use this safe route with the right timing, geography, and connections.

Of course, this was also one of Shangyuan City’s most important secrets. Both the entrance and exit of this relatively safe route were heavily guarded by Shangyuan troops.

Now, a small boat was traveling on those lighter-colored small marshes. The boat moved very carefully, as they were close to the surrounding Black Water Marsh—a Black Water beast might suddenly leap out and attack at any moment.

On the boat, a young woman in short clothing carried a basket on her back, gripped twin blades, and had a willow leaf knife in her mouth, her blazing gaze scanning the surroundings.

The old man rowing at the stern glanced at her back, helplessly shook his head, and called to her for the tenth time: “Sixth Young Master, stop looking. This stretch is safest, and we have beast-repelling medicine. There won’t be any fierce beasts. You’re exhausting yourself staying so tense.”

“No way,” Sixth Young Lady Meng Potian of the Meng family mumbled incomprehensibly: “You don’t know anything—we might encounter a big one.”

“How could we encounter a big one? If we met a big one, we’d be finished,” the elder sighed. “Stop talking with the knife in your mouth—be careful not to cut your lips. You cut them last time and nearly became gap-toothed.”

“I’m not gap-toothed. Even if I were gap-toothed, I’d still be the most beautiful person.”

“Yes, yes, even gap-toothed, Sixth Young Master would be the world’s most beautiful gap-toothed person,” the elder beckoned to her. “Sixth Young Master, check the cargo in the bottom hold again. When we boarded, the boat tilted—don’t want water getting in and ruining the goods.”

“Better if it’s ruined,” Meng Potian muttered as she walked to the stern. “Let Ming Yan’an get nothing…”

“If Ming Yan’an gets nothing, see where you’ll go to earn his money,” the elder concentrated on rowing.

Only then did Meng Potian put down her full armament, grumbling as she went to check the cargo: “My basket was destroyed by that black-hearted Queen—damn her. I had to get a batch of Longevity Pills from my aunt in Pugan to trade in Shangyuan City. Do I have it easy?”

The elder took out a long pipe, shook open a small paper packet, and carefully pinched out several strands of golden silk-like substance with his thumb and index finger, stuffed them in the pipe, lit it, and took a satisfied puff.

“Fifth Uncle, why don’t you take Longevity Pills?” Meng Potian asked puzzledly. “Aren’t Longevity Pills supposed to be better than Golden Silk?”

Fifth Uncle waved his hands repeatedly: “No good, no good. Longevity Pills are expensive and taste awful—can’t get used to them. This old man still thinks Pugan’s Golden Silk is best.”

“Ming Yan’an loves Longevity Pills most. If my aunt weren’t the Pugan King’s consort, I couldn’t get this stuff either,” Meng Potian added. “But I heard Golden Silk and Longevity Pills aren’t really good things. The Pugan King and nobles don’t use them.”

“At my age, what do I care about?” the elder said, squinting as he puffed clouds. “One puff of this Golden Silk and my old rheumatism doesn’t hurt…”

While speaking, Meng Potian had descended to the boat’s hold, lifting layer after layer of oilcloth. Suddenly she cried “Ah!” and jumped backward, nearly capsizing the boat.

The elder was startled. He’d only asked Meng Potian to check the cargo to get her to put down her blades, never expecting real trouble. Immediately his back straightened, and his previously misty, turbid old eyes suddenly flashed with sharp light.

“Who are you?” Meng Potian exclaimed loudly. “Goodness, we really did encounter a big one!”

The elder reached to his waist, and a curved hook with cold gleaming light appeared in his hand.

Under their vigilant gazes, someone slowly sat up from the bottom of the boat’s hold.

Clothes white as snow, skin also white as snow, a pair of clear, pale eyes also cool as snow on distant mountain peaks.

“You…” Meng Potian was stunned for a moment, then held back the elder who was about to pounce. “Are you one of those Rakshasa Gate people?”

The person who sat up from the bottom hold remained silent for a moment, then hummed acknowledgment: “I’m called Li Hanyu.”

“That’s not right,” Meng Potian stared at him blankly, then suddenly said loudly: “You’re not that guy. I remember his face—it was ruined by that Pei Shu. And…” she leaned closer, almost pressing against his face, “your face seems… seems even better looking than his…”

The white-clothed man calmly pushed her face away: “If injured, can’t it be healed? It was just flesh wounds.”

Meng Potian thought about it but couldn’t be certain. That day Li Hanyu at Danling Mountain was slapped away by Pei Shu, then fell into the crowd. Such a minor character—no one cared about his condition. Meng Potian hadn’t paid attention to how badly he was hurt.

“What are you doing here? How did you sneak in?” Meng Potian was completely puzzled, waving her twin blades menacingly at his neck. “You can’t stay here—get out!”

He didn’t move, slightly lowering his eyelashes: “I’ll accompany you in and beat up that black-hearted Queen while I’m at it.”

“Really?” Meng Potian’s eyes lit up. “How do you know she’s in Shangyuan City?”

“Just because your Mad Blade Alliance has informants doesn’t mean our Rakshasa Gate can’t have spies,” he said with light contempt.

“But you’re a waste,” Meng Potian sheathed her blades and looked him up and down. “That day Pei Shu slapped you senseless—I saw it clearly.”

“Though my martial arts are poor, I excel at lightness skills,” he said. “Moreover, I followed beside the Queen for several days and know some of her habits and weaknesses. Sixth Young Master, you suffered your first major defeat under the Queen—don’t you want to pay her back?”

“Of course!” Meng Potian replied without hesitation. “Actually, if she just used that cat to knock out me and my father, we’d admit defeat as jianghu people. But she absolutely shouldn’t have destroyed my basket too. My basket!” She grabbed the empty basket to show him, looking heartbroken. “My basket! I spent countless effort, manpower, and resources over ten years to carefully collect treasures…”

“Catch her and you can have all the fun things you want. Those Seven Killers around her love collecting rare treasures most,” he incited.

“I just want her cat and bird, plus I need to bully her properly to vent my hatred!” Meng Potian waved her fists fiercely, then glanced at him sideways. “What about you? Why do you want to oppose the Queen?”

“Haven’t I been played by the Queen enough?” he said coldly. “Ridiculous that I was manipulated in her palm—such humiliation, how can I not repay it?”

Meng Potian bent over, hands on knees, staring at him curiously. He felt uncomfortable with such close distance and turned his head away, but she stepped forward and leaned closer, her breath gently spraying on his face: “Why do I feel you’re not angry at all, but seem quite happy instead?”

He didn’t answer, unceremoniously pushing her face away again, using his sleeve to cushion his hand: “No need to say more. Does the young lady agree or not?”

“What if I don’t agree? Make you jump off the boat and go back? This area has Daobei royal troops patrolling back and forth. If they discover you, and since only my boat has permission to pass recently, I’d have trouble too.” Meng Potian snorted and walked away. “You calculated this early on, yet still pretend to ask if I agree? Just stay there!”

She walked to the other side of the boat. The elder who’d been smoking the whole time gave her a meaningful look. She shook her head.

“Watch him for now,” she said quietly. “This person has the ability to kill us but currently shows no ill will. Don’t provoke him—observe and adapt.”

She’d put away her playful attitude, her gaze blazing, showing the true face of Mad Blade Alliance’s managing Young Lady.

The elder obediently sheathed his hidden blade.

The white-clothed man on the other side kept his back to them, never turning around.

In Black Water Marsh’s misty gray atmosphere, his figure appeared and disappeared like fog itself.

…

“Your Majesty, please observe the good show,” the escorting soldier smiled with malicious intent.

Jing Hengbo glanced at him, then at the road. The paths behind and to the sides had been intentionally or unintentionally blocked by crowds—they could only go forward. Apparently she had to watch whether she wanted to or not.

This setup reminded her of when she first entered Imperial Song, also caught in a long road flanked by crowds. Then too there had been difficulties, but someone held her hand, someone guided her way, people cheered, red carpets stretched…

Her heart ached, but her face bloomed with a brilliant smile as she walked forward without hesitation.

Ahead was a stage with a play in progress. The audience was packed like mountains and seas, their cheers deafening.

Seeing her approach, everyone turned in unison—faces full of mocking smiles.

Beside her, Chai Yu seemed somewhat uneasy, but she and Master Mu remained unperturbed, walking straight to the front of the stage.

On stage, a woman with heavy makeup wore gorgeous but vulgar costume, her head full of cheap jewelry and a paper phoenix crown, waving her water sleeves while singing to the audience below.

“This humble woman was but a fallen courtesan of the jianghu, raising bright banners at Phoenix Roost. Once seeing the path to clouds above, I cast aside old patrons to climb the dragon gate.” After singing, she cast coquettish glances, covering her lips with water sleeves, whispering to the audience: “The dragon gate’s new patron comes—watch this slave’s methods. I’ll surely make him lose his soul and bones, easily captured.”

Everyone laughed. Someone shouted: “Show us the courtesan’s seductive skills—do well and there’s reward!”

People laughed while watching Jing Hengbo, who was also smiling.

She asked Chai Yu: “What’s all this warbling about?”

It wasn’t that she was illiterate—the Great Wilderness regions mixed dialects in their singing with strange melodies that were truly hard to understand.

Chai Yu nearly choked, coughing for a long time before stammering: “Singing… singing about emotions.”

“Oh, what emotions? Who’s the female lead?” Jing Hengbo smiled. “The costume looks awful. And low-cut too—when did Daobei become so open-minded?”

“This… this… the female role is a… courtesan…” Chai Yu’s voice grew quieter—he felt that though Jing Hengbo was smiling normally, somehow he felt uneasy.

“Oh, a courtesan from where?” Jing Hengbo asked melodiously.

Now Chai Yu didn’t dare answer, saying quietly: “I didn’t hear clearly either.”

Jing Hengbo chuckled and asked Master Mu: “Good singing—shall we continue listening?”

“Whatever you like,” Master Mu smiled.

Then a white-clothed man emerged from backstage, head high in an arrogant pose, taking official steps and swaying with each step.

Seeing him, the vulgar woman rushed over like a swallow returning to its nest, laughing coquettishly and cooing: “My lord…”

Jing Hengbo nearly spurted with laughter.

…

Meng Potian was also in the crowd now, standing on tiptoes to watch the play. She, the elder, and the white-clothed man had passed through entrance inspection together, entered the city, delivered the Longevity Pills to the secret bureau outside the royal palace, then been asked to leave the palace vicinity.

Meng Potian was used to this—with her status, being barred from approaching the palace was normal. She only wanted to make money and hunt treasures in Shangyuan City. Near the safest section of Black Water Marsh, interesting items often appeared.

Such people always flocked to excitement. Seeing a play, she rushed over like flying—others couldn’t hold her back.

She was at the crowd’s periphery and couldn’t see inside, so she simply jumped onto a man’s back. The man was about to curse when she clamped her legs around his neck and craned her neck to look inside, casually shouting: “Borrowing your back to watch the play!”

The man’s face turned purple from her grip, so he had to shut up. People stared at her sideways, but Meng Potian acted as if she didn’t see them, only stretching her neck forward.

After watching a while, she said: “Hey, Li Hanyu, look at this terrible play… Huh? Where’d he go?”

Turning around, Li Hanyu had disappeared. Meng Potian pursed her lips and continued watching.

Being alone above the crowd naturally made her conspicuous. Jing Hengbo also noticed her distant profile, feeling it looked somewhat familiar.

Just as she was about to look more carefully, Meng Potian had already jumped down, loudly cursing: “What terrible play!”

On stage, they were now performing how the “Queen” sent autumn glances to the “State Preceptor,” using a courtesan’s seductive arts to pester him relentlessly, bringing him meals, accompanying him in gardens, privately confessing feelings, and at night using fear as pretext to slip into the State Preceptor’s chambers…

This script, written by who knows whom, was lewd and explicit, completely lacking the subtle art of proper drama. After the “Queen” entered the State Preceptor’s “chambers,” backstage actually provided sound effects of lewd words and passionate language, soft panting, and endless creaking of bed boards. Some even waved red flags behind the curtain, representing “overturned red waves”…

The female actor on stage twisted and sang in a thin voice: “Like yesterday’s floating petals and waves, receiving today’s horizontal rain and wild wind. Cannot obtain the fragrant fallen blossoms of the full garden, hiding a bottle of chicken blood to smear the bed. Panting softly, buttocks like white waves, trembling delicately, cherries falling on snowy walls. Hot and scorching, one golden spear, letting my lover’s masculine wind reach ten thousand zhang, various patterns urgently busy…”

Such stage plays were usually quietly performed in third-rate brothel theaters, rarely sung so openly on grand streets in broad daylight. The common people were both stimulated and excited, faces flushed, nostrils flaring, constantly cheering loudly.

“Good lyrics!”

“Flavorful!”

“Pant louder!”

Master Mu’s smile completely disappeared, hooking into a cold arc.

Jing Hengbo held her chin, seemingly still smiling, but her smile carried killing intent.

Chai Yu hung his head, his ears already completely red.

Over there, Meng Potian understood little of what she heard, asking the elder beside her: “Fifth Uncle, what’s all this nonsense—sometimes cherry blossoms, sometimes golden spears, and what does smearing chicken blood on the bed mean? Isn’t that dirty?”

The elder couldn’t bring himself to explain such things to an unmarried young lady, only stammering: “Nothing worth hearing—let’s go.”

“Heh, you don’t understand,” the man whose neck she’d clamped and who couldn’t watch the play was full of resentment. Hearing this, he sneered: “Fool, you don’t even understand this. She’s a courtesan—could she have virgin status? Without virgin status but wanting to climb high and enter the palace, she could only secretly take a bottle of chicken blood to fake virginity. Heh heh heh, who wrote this script? Brilliant!”

“Enter the palace?” Meng Potian frowned. “Who are they talking about?”

“You watched all this time and still don’t know who it is?” the man said. “The Black Water Queen, of course. She came from a brothel, used her looks to attach herself to the State Preceptor, and forcibly gained the Queen’s position. Using her seductive body, she bewitched countless famous ministers and generals to bow before her skirts, willingly serving her. State Preceptor Yelu lost his State Preceptor position for her; Commander Ying was enchanted by her beauty and abandoned his commander position to follow her; even someone as proud as Longcheng’s Young Marshal became infatuated with her… They’ll perform the rest later. Tsk tsk, this woman is truly a shameless beauty…”

“Bullshit!” Meng Potian suddenly exploded, her voice high and sharp, startling people around to turn and look. The man below screamed: “Hey, if you’re going to curse, don’t clamp me…”

“Your mother’s stinking dog fart,” Meng Potian was furious, using the man’s head as a hammer, banging it repeatedly. “She used her looks? She could make so many people follow her just with looks? By that logic, since I’m more beautiful than her, shouldn’t I have a million troops under my command? Are you insulting the Queen, the State Preceptor, or me? You think that group is like you—all thinking with their asses like stinking bugs? Bah! A bunch of cowards who slander and blacken others because they can’t match them! Useless! Absolutely shameless! How can you be Daobei people? How can Ming Yan’an be a Daobei person? Ah ah ah, I’m truly ashamed to be Daobei people with you!”

“Ah ah ah, if you’re ashamed then be ashamed, but don’t smash my head!” the man screamed.

“Sixth Young Master! Sixth Young Master!” the elder quickly pulled her down, covering her mouth. “This is Shangyuan—restrain yourself. Making a big scene won’t look good…”

“Shameless!” Meng Potian’s anger hadn’t subsided, jumping with rage. “This young master is still her defeated subordinate—insulting her, isn’t that also insulting this young master?”

“Exactly,” someone suddenly said behind her. “Why doesn’t young master insult all these shameless people back?”

Meng Potian turned around and pursed her lips: “You weren’t here just now, but suddenly appeared again. What scheme do you have? Tell me.”

“Please follow me, Sixth Young Master,” Li Hanyu’s tone had suddenly become much more polite for some reason, pulling her away.

…

Actually, Jing Hengbo had understood the stage play from the beginning.

Without needing to understand the words, she only had to look at the costumes to know that Ming Yan’an had staged this play specifically for her.

This move was extremely vicious and extremely effective—humiliating her, blackening her reputation, inciting ignorant people’s hostility. If she turned and left, her reputation would be ruined forever and no one would respect her again. If she couldn’t endure and resorted to violence, attacking actors would be called taking anger out on innocents, while attacking civilians would provoke complete hostility from all of Shangyuan City’s people. When she truly brought troops to attack Shangyuan in the future, the people would fight to the death defending the city, engaging in mutual destruction with her, never coexisting.

This was a deadlock that couldn’t be broken and mustn’t be broken.

Precisely because she understood the difficulty, she hadn’t exploded immediately. Suppressing her anger, she first considered how to resolve this.

The only possible approach was to subdue the actors on stage without anyone noticing—this had to be done cleanly and efficiently, undetected by anyone, making it seem like sudden illness or divine punishment.

Jing Hengbo was already experienced in mystical tricks, and now her supernatural manipulation was even more refined. Creating some heaven-and-earth phenomena wouldn’t be difficult. Just as she prepared to act, Master Mu suddenly tugged at her.

Jing Hengbo turned to look at him. Master Mu said quietly: “The stage is surrounded by experts—Ming Yan’an should already be prepared. You could probably control the actors without difficulty, but it would be hard not to be exposed. Then Ming Yan’an could spread rumors that you’re possessed by demons, poisoning the world, making it even more impossible for you to rule Shangyuan.”

Though his tone was light as if joking, Jing Hengbo knew this was no joke. Feudal society wasn’t modern times—the people weren’t enlightened, and supernatural tales could easily deceive and control them. This was Ming Yan’an’s home ground where he could completely control public opinion. One mistake on her part, and Shangyuan’s three hundred thousand people would never submit to her again.

She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, then smiled after a moment: “Small impatience ruins great plans, wasn’t it? Since I can’t act rashly, I’ll endure. Anyway, plenty of people in the world call me a demon and whore—I can’t fight them all one by one. I’ll settle accounts with Ming Yan’an later.”

Master Mu looked up at her, saying gently: “You’re becoming more able to endure now.”

Jing Hengbo smiled: “Isn’t this what you taught me? Those in power must avoid anger and hatred because they affect accurate judgment in critical moments.” She turned to look at him: “Poor memory—you forgot so quickly?”

Master Mu’s lips curved: “I haven’t forgotten. I’m even more gratified that you haven’t forgotten either.”

Jing Hengbo smiled and exhaled. But she heard Master Mu say: “However, you may be willing to endure, but I’m not. With me here, how can I let you suffer even half a grievance?”

Jing Hengbo’s heart trembled. Looking down at him, his eyes behind the mask seemed to hold a thousand words. Meeting that tide-like gaze, she suddenly felt suffocated and had to turn her head away, forcing a smile: “Don’t boast. Forget it—fighting with a bunch of actors and common people, even winning would be meaningless. Better not cause trouble.”

But Master Mu gently squeezed her fingers resting on the wheelchair, saying warmly: “Just wait a moment. I’ve already sent a signal. When my people arrive, they’ll naturally give you satisfaction.”

Jing Hengbo was surprised: “You have people in Shangyuan City too?”

“The Fifteen Guilds actually all have contacts in Shangyuan City. Shangyuan isn’t truly an iron plate—after so many years of gradual infiltration, we could insert a few people. Unfortunately my Shadow Pavilion was established too recently, and I also… Last year I began arranging for people to infiltrate Shangyuan. Though there aren’t many now and they can’t accomplish much, they can still provide small assistance.”

Jing Hengbo nodded, feeling reassured—not because of the help or Master Mu’s thoughtfulness, but because when faced with universal hostility and humiliation like a tide, receiving care and warmth from another person was especially comforting.

Then she realized her fingers were still in his grasp, his fingertips warm, his grip on her fingers precious, while beside them Chai Yu had already turned away uncomfortably.

Jing Hengbo smiled, raised her hand to brush her hair, suddenly pointing at the stage: “Look!”

She’d intended to use this opportunity to divert Master Mu’s attention and withdraw her fingers to spare him embarrassment, but Master Mu didn’t look at all, only gazing at her with a smile: “What a clumsy diversion tactic.”

Caught out, she could only laugh awkwardly and openly moved his fingers away: “You seem to have changed too—you never used to be so hands-on.”

Master Mu’s gaze flashed as he smiled: “They say nature doesn’t change, but hearts can. One moment strangers, the next perhaps close friends.”

She gazed at him, slowly saying: “Close friends?”

His lips curved in a charming arc: “Aren’t we?”

She also smiled slightly, turned away: “Let’s watch the play.”

…

Backstage, a group of people bustled about organizing props. A man with a painted face was changing into a silver-black robe.

A head suddenly poked in, eyes rolling, then the body flashed into the wardrobe room behind.

Her movements were quick and nimble—naturally the theater troupe didn’t notice.

Meng Potian slipped backstage, knocked out several actors applying makeup inside, looked at rows of costumes and props with amazement, stood stunned for a while before asking the white-clothed man behind her: “Hey, Li Hanyu, why did you drag me here?”

“What do you think?” he answered lazily.

Meng Potian was also clever, her eyes lighting up: “You want to sabotage this play!”

His lips curved as he said lightly: “Common people are just ignorant masses—whatever the stage says is truth becomes truth. Rather than jumping out to fight, better to change the play.”

“Good idea,” Meng Potian praised, then narrowed her eyes with a smile: “Your tone sounds like you’re also one of those rulers who manipulate the people.”

“Don’t books contain the art of emperors?” he replied.

Meng Potian snorted and began selecting costumes: “What kind of script do you have in mind?”

He whispered a few sentences. Meng Potian exclaimed: “Brilliant! Who do you plan to play?”

“I won’t go on stage,” he shook his head.

“No way,” Meng Potian wouldn’t let him off. “If you don’t perform, I won’t either. Playing together is more fun.” Without another word, she stuffed a set of wide-sleeved blue robes at him: “Ying Bai! You play him!”

He was stunned, strange emotions surfacing in his eyes, slowly reaching out to accept them. He sat aside and began applying face paint.

Meng Potian picked and chose on the side, muttering constantly: “Who should I play…”

“Ming Yan’an,” he said.

“Absolutely not,” Meng Potian shook her head like a rattle. “I won’t play such a useless, unlucky character. I’ll play…” She suddenly picked out a bright red battle robe, her eyes lighting up: “Pei Shu!”

“I’ll play myself!” a voice suddenly said sternly. “Who’s worthy of playing me!”

Meng Potian was stunned, looking up in shock: “Pei Shu!” She stared wide-eyed: “What’s wrong with my mouth today? Whoever I mention shows up! Oh my, let me try others. Ying Bai! Ying Bai! Yelu Qi! Yelu Qi! Gong Yin! Gong…”

“Are you done?” the white-clothed man interrupted, casually tossing her gray robes: “You play Tian Qi.”

Pei Shu had obviously been there a while and knew what was happening. While striding inside, he dragged out a man: “He and several others were sneaking around outside just now, looking like they also wanted to come in and cause trouble. I discovered them and brought them in.”

The man showed no fear, saying proudly: “Young Marshal Pei? Please show respect. We’re essentially on the same side. How about we cooperate?”

Pei Shu put on his red battle robe while sneering: “Today I’ll let Shangyuan’s people see grandfather’s play.” Then impatiently told the man: “Same side? Which side? If you don’t explain clearly, I’ll conveniently send you on your way.”

“I cannot speak plainly,” the man replied neither servile nor overbearing. “But I can swear on my life that what I want to do is the same as you. It will cause no harm to the Queen.”

Pei Shu was about to say more when the white-clothed man nodded: “Then we’ll detain your brothers first. You go on stage and play Ming Yan’an.”

“Fine,” the man agreed readily.

Pei Shu glared, very dissatisfied with the white-clothed man giving orders: “What scallion are you? Who gave you the right to decide?”

“The Young Marshal may also decide,” the white-clothed man said lightly. “Immediately kill these people and throw them outside for display. Please, please.”

Pei Shu was left speechless, his face reddening with anger: “Who is he? After I finish this play, I’ll definitely teach him a lesson.”

By now the white-clothed man’s face was painted with red and white makeup—even his father might not recognize him.

“He’s… seems to be… that guy…” Meng Potian glanced at the white-clothed man sideways, smiling as she drew out her words. But when he completely ignored her and Pei Shu’s expression grew impatient, she could only straighten up and say quickly: “A friend of mine. You don’t know him.”

“Obviously lowborn,” Pei Shu mocked. “Even knows how to apply theater makeup.”

The white-clothed man completely ignored him—having already applied powder, did he care about a little paint?

Meng Potian looked like she’d just watch them fight while she played, changing clothes while curiously watching Pei Shu. Pei Shu glared: “What are you looking at? I know I’m beautiful, but you’re not allowed to look!”

“I’m not looking at you—I’m looking at an ugly monster,” Meng Potian giggled. Before Pei Shu could explode, she quickly asked: “I say, Young Marshal, with your temperament, how can you endure this insult and obediently perform? Shouldn’t you charge onto the stage with blade drawn and kill everyone performing and watching?”

“What do you know? Taking lives is easy, winning hearts is hard,” Pei Shu looked disdainful. “If this play only insulted me, needless to say, I’d kill my way in and out three times, leaving one alive would mean taking your surname. But this play is clearly Ming Yan’an’s trap for Little Bobo. I could enjoy killing for a moment, but the cleanup afterward would cause her trouble. I can’t indulge my nature and ruin the entire city-capturing plan.”

“Oh!” Meng Potian’s eyes widened: “Is this still Pei Shu? Is this still the murderous demon Dragon City Young Marshal? When did you start considering women? I grew up hearing your legends—legends of you killing like hemp, eating human hearts raw, dyeing your cloak with blood, hating women most of all. Your famous saying was: ‘Women are like underwear—filthy and untouchable!’ Is the current Pei Shu still Pei Shu?”

“I still see you all as underwear—filthy and untouchable. Please stay away from me!” Pei Shu said proudly. “Only one person is different—that’s Little Bobo…” He suddenly turned, looking alert: “Who?!”

“What who?” Meng Potian was confused. There were only these few people in the shed, all experts—how could others get in?

Pei Shu’s expression wasn’t good—he’d just felt like there was killing intent behind him. When he spun around, there was nothing, making him feel foolish for being jumpy.

“Apply makeup. Casually,” the white-clothed man tossed over a tube of paint.

“Why aren’t you serving me and painting it?” Baolong was dissatisfied again.

“Keep chattering and the play will be over,” the white-clothed man turned around. Pei Shu was stunned and forgot what he was going to say.

Meng Potian exclaimed: “Amazing! I always thought face paint made people look like monkey butts, but with your few strokes you look so stylish. I think you’re the treasure I found coming into the city this time. Come back to Mad Blade Alliance with me, okay? Also, right, I think the only flaw in your appearance is that you don’t really look like Ying Bai—more like Gong Yin…”

“Hurry up with makeup,” he threw over a tube of paint, stopping Meng Potian’s endless chatter.

…

On stage, the play entered the second act. The “Queen” had entered the palace and met the Left State Preceptor. To gain the Left State Preceptor’s support, the Queen again used beauty tricks, beginning to seduce the Left State Preceptor. The two exchanged glances and hit it off immediately…

The discussions below grew more brazen.

“Is there another erotic scene next?” someone asked expectantly.

“Truly fickle, available to all men,” someone sneered coldly.

“So-called familiar Zhang and experienced Wei can both enter the tent,” scholars made strange, cold comments. Usually they maintained dignity and were embarrassed to publicly watch such erotic plays, but now they could watch openly in the name of patriotism, unable to resist commentary. Scholars’ tongues were like knives—seemingly less vulgar than commoners’ crude talk, but each sentence was more vicious and obscene.

Somehow the crowd now contained many soldiers blocking Jing Hengbo, their eyes vigilantly fixed on her.

Jing Hengbo sneered at them—afraid she’d act?

“You should beware of them acting,” Master Mu suddenly said quietly. “Not against you.”

Jing Hengbo’s heart jumped. Scanning the entire scene, she noticed these soldiers were positioned strangely—mostly with their backs to the people. In the crowd were many sharp-eyed people in civilian dress, all with bulging waists suggesting weapons, scattered throughout the densest crowds.

“Could it be…”

“Even if you don’t act, Ming Yan’an will probably arrange for action,” Master Mu said. “In the chaos, assassinate some civilians and blame you, inciting the entire city’s anger against you.”

Jing Hengbo drew a cold breath: “So vicious.”

“To steadily control Shangyuan for years—how could he be simple?” Master Mu said. “This is just the beginning.”

This time Jing Hengbo’s attention focused on the black-clothed men in the crowd. The soldiers were just misdirection, barriers to block her vision. The real troublemakers were those people.

On stage, gongs and drums sounded urgently as the play entered the third act. This play naturally wouldn’t detail the Queen’s political path—the focus was mainly on “the Queen’s men.” Each act featured one man. This act was Tian Qi.

Jing Hengbo sneered, thinking they could even make stories about that hermaphrodite!

Drums beat urgently as a green-robed figure rushed on stage, cloak covering the face, moving quickly—this was Tian Qi.

Jing Hengbo looked at that Tian Qi’s petite stature and was surprised—could the scriptwriter be so capable as to know even that Tian Qi was hermaphrodite?

She heard someone whisper: “This act tells how the wilderness eccentric Tian Qi originally planned to assassinate the Queen but was enchanted by her beauty and willingly became her guard, serving before and behind her saddle.”

Jing Hengbo sneered again—enchanted by beauty? Who exactly Tian Qi was enchanted by would scare you to death!

Thinking this, her heart suddenly stirred as a thought flitted by, which she immediately firmly suppressed.

Being somewhat distracted, she didn’t notice the crowd’s commotion until she heard someone say in surprise: “How can this be?”

Looking up, she saw that on stage Tian Qi had suddenly shaken his head dramatically, struck a standard pose with a powdered white face, and was fighting around the Queen. In three moves, he was “defeated” by the Queen’s sword. Tian Qi immediately half-knelt, clasped his hands, and declared loudly: “Your Majesty is mighty! Tian Qi submits!”

The people erupted in confusion, faces full of bewilderment. Even Jing Hengbo looked surprised—what a plot twist! Was the scriptwriter’s brain damaged? How did it suddenly start praising her?

The “Queen” on stage also looked dazed—the script had no fight scene with Tian Qi, and she couldn’t do martial moves. But after this “Tian Qi” came on stage, he’d supported her body and performed several poses that looked like fighting, then inexplicably she’d “displayed divine power, defeated Tian Qi, and taken him as subordinate.”

Tian Qi seemed not yet satisfied with the fight and actually began somersaulting on stage. Green shadows tumbled continuously while the audience, initially surprised, gradually began cheering. Finally the entire audience started counting: “…298, 299, 300! Good!”

After 300 consecutive somersaults, “Tian Qi” leaped up, face unflushed and breath steady, proudly bowing to everyone as thunderous applause erupted. Getting carried away, “Tian Qi” shouted: “Fellow villagers, passing by…” Before finishing the street performer’s pitch, a stone hit his bottom. Realizing he’d gotten too into character, he quickly corrected: “Bah! My meager skills don’t compare to the Queen’s casual gesture. Long live our King!”

The entire audience: “Huh?”