The temporary reprieve granted by the "draw" at the Moonbone wedding was a fragile thing, a thin veil over the intensified obsession of two powerful matriarchs. Jianyu, as Niánmei, found himself no longer a captive, but a highly coveted prize, free to move, yet constantly under watchful, predatory eyes. He returned to his room in Qianci Yuan, the pulsing, organic walls a familiar, unsettling presence. He needed to capitalize on this fleeting freedom.
The political landscape had shifted. His public display of dual identity, even if attributed to a "divine protector," had made him a legend, a whispered enigma. He was neither fully Moonbone nor fully Chixia Gong, a neutral anomaly that intrigued and terrified in equal measure. This neutrality, he realized, was his new weapon.
Days passed in a calculated dance of feigned contemplation. He politely declined further "guidance" from Empress Yuelian, citing a need for spiritual introspection. He subtly evaded Gong Xuelan's more direct attempts at re-establishing control, using the excuse of needing to "understand his new nature." He spent hours in meditation, not cultivating, but meticulously refining his male persona, Xu Jianyu, making him more distinct, more capable of independent action.
One evening, as dusk bled across the sky, painting the cultivation lands in shades of bruised violet and blood orange, a small, tightly rolled parchment, tied with a single, rough-spun thread, was slipped under his door. It was not elegant like Hansu's notes, nor ritualistic like Yuelian's. This was raw, almost crude. He unrolled it.
The message was not written in ink, but carved into the parchment itself, leaving sharp, uneven indentations like teeth marks. It was an invitation to a neutral sect gathering at Heifeng Cheng, the capital city. The words were terse, almost a challenge: "Unaffiliated prodigies may compete for patronage. Come. If you dare." It was unsigned, but the spiritual signature, faint yet distinct, was the same as the bone shard from before. Ren Kaifeng.
A trap. He knew it instantly. A public gathering, a competition—it was the perfect stage for an ambush, for a forced allegiance. Yet, it was also an opportunity. A chance to step outside the immediate sphere of the three dominant sects, to make new connections, to find the male underground Kaifeng hinted at.
Jianyu smiled, a cold, calculating curve of Niánmei's lips. He would attend. And he would attend as both personas. Niánmei, the enigmatic beauty, the sought-after vessel. And Jianyu, the silent, watchful shadow, ready to strike from unseen corners.
He began preparations immediately, refining the illusion, ensuring the seamless transition between his two forms. He would need a cover story for Jianyu, a plausible reason for his constant, silent presence beside Niánmei. A loyal, unyielding guardian.
The chapter ended with Jianyu, a master of masks, preparing to enter the treacherous political arena of Heifeng Cheng, a city where power was paraded via beauty, control, and status. He was walking into a trap, but he was bringing his own.