Inner City: Ruining Others' Favorites

Night fell.

A bronze carriage departed from Buyun Tower and entered the bustling streets of the imperial capital.

The capital was divided into the Imperial City, the Inner City, and the Outer City—though the analogy wasn’t perfect, one might crudely liken them to first, second, and third rings.

Why imperfect? Because the Imperial City was the domain of nobles and royalty, strictly off-limits to outsiders except under special circumstances.

The Inner City, compared to the Outer City, was far more prosperous and expansive. Its architecture wasn’t uniform but exquisitely varied, each structure distinct yet harmonious in its beauty. Even the street lanterns had been replaced with luminous sea-crystal lamps, their glow mirroring the starry heavens above, as if the cosmos itself had descended to complement the grandeur of the land.

Elsewhere, the bronze carriage would have been a symbol of understated luxury, akin to a high-end vehicle in later eras.

But here in the Inner City, it seemed utterly ordinary.

Li Mo lifted the carriage curtain, his eyes widening in awe.

"The Fengyue Pavilion is even more extravagant—its scenery is unmatched anywhere else."

Xie Xuan sat at the carriage’s front.

He habitually wore a straw hat, embodying the image of a wandering rogue.

But now, with a righteous gentleman and an elegant young master seated inside, he suddenly looked like nothing more than a coachman.

"That place over there is…"

Li Mo spotted a building ahead, its archway inscribed with the words "Ye Bing Pavilion."

Before Xie Xuan could respond, the aloof, handsome ice block of a man—who had been half-hiding his face behind a folding fan—spoke softly:

"That’s a branch of the Tianshan Sword Manor’s Forge. You can place orders there to have their smiths craft weapons."

"Brother Han is quite knowledgeable."

Xie Xuan nodded, then plucked a blade of grass from who-knows-where and stuck it between his teeth.

"Every Forging Conference produces a number of outstanding craftsmen. Some join the Sword Forge, while others merely lend their names."

"Speaking of which, this year’s Forging Conference is just around the corner. But the quality of the smiths declines with each passing year. Sigh…"

"Because of the Demon Summoning Sect?"

Li Mo suddenly recalled rumors he’d heard at Divine Peak. "Wasn’t the Divine Powder banned afterward?"

Xie Xuan blinked, surprised that Li Mo knew of such things.

"For every strategy above, there’s a countermeasure below. There will always be those who seek shortcuts. The forms of Divine Powder have grown increasingly bizarre, making them harder to control."

"But knowing this won’t help you much."

Xie Xuan seemed reluctant to elaborate with an outsider. "Still, if you can help me meet her today, I’ll take care of your weapon for the Rising Dragon Tournament."

Weapons for the Rising Dragon Tournament had to be provided by the Forging Conference—a rule meant to minimize disparities in equipment.

"Brother Xuan, you have connections in the Sword Forge too?"

Xie Xuan’s fist clenched at the nickname.

"I’m a judge for the Forging Conference."

"Brother Xie’s wisdom runs deep, his knowledge vast—truly worthy of being the second-ranked Rising Dragon!"

"?"

Xie Xuan found this sudden flattery rather abrupt.

Just then, a commotion erupted ahead.

Li Mo looked over and beheld a sight that even he, a transmigrator, found unimaginable. The street before them stretched over a hundred meters wide.

At its end stood three porcelain structures.

Yes, the buildings themselves were crafted from a material resembling ceramic, their surfaces glowing softly in the night like glazed vases. Two smaller structures flanked a larger one, resembling ornamental jars placed upon a windowsill.

One was tri-colored, another blue-and-white, and the last cloaked in enamel.

The crowd milling about wore garments of obvious wealth, while attendants and maids were dressed in fabrics the common folk could scarcely dream of—materials like gilded paper, their faces adorned with ink paintings.

The phrase "drowning in luxury" had never felt more tangible.

"The Fengyue Pavilion isn’t exactly small."

Xie Xuan smirked, pleased by Li Mo’s stunned reaction.

Coming from a smaller region, both Li Mo and Ying Bing were bound to be awestruck.

"Gentlemen, please come in."

A servant greeted them with a face full of smiles—warm, yet oddly lifeless, like a puppet going through the motions.

Once Li Mo and the disguised ice block (now in male attire) were ushered inside, the servant turned to Xie Xuan with an expressionless stare.

"Park the carriage in the back. And watch yourself—if you offend a noble, not even your master can save you."

"Excuse me? I’m a guest too."

Xie Xuan threw the reins to the ground with a smack.

The servant scoffed. "You smell like me. I can tell with one whiff."

"......"

It wasn’t until Li Mo intervened that Xie Xuan was finally allowed inside.

"Ah, Young Master Li! What an... unexpected honor."

A heavily made-up madam hurried over.

Places like Fengyue Pavilion thrived on gossip. Though she didn’t recognize Xie Xuan (hidden beneath his hat) or the cross-dressing ice block, Li Mo—ranked fourth in the Rising Dragon Tournament—was unmistakable.

"We’re here for the Flower Maiden!"

Xie Xuan’s muffled voice emerged from under his hat.

The madam ignored him, her eyes fixed on Li Mo.

Li Mo cleared his throat.

"Yes, we’d like to see the Flower Maiden."

The madam hesitated. "Young Master Li, as a first-time guest, we dare not slight you. But Madame Nongying isn’t like the others—she entertains, but doesn’t sell herself."

"Her tea gatherings are highly sought after, and today’s slots are already full."

"Ah. Then we’ll return tomorrow."

Li Mo sounded disappointed.

But Xie Xuan, familiar with such games, sent a mental message:

"She’s hinting we need to pay more."

"You could’ve just said so..."

Li Mo sighed. The capital’s schemes ran deeper than even Ziyang Prefecture’s.

"Can we book the entire venue?"

......

Deep within the pavilion.

A peach-blossom face, eyes shimmering like stars, was illuminated in the bronze mirror.

With features tender as spring and an innate allure, the woman’s ranking as the former third—now fourth—on the Hundred Flowers Beauty List was well-deserved.

"Madame, Madame! Someone wants to book the entire venue!" A maid rushed in breathlessly.

"No need for alarm."

Hua Nongying applied her lip rouge calmly. "No matter how noble the guest, decline them."

Countless men—high-ranking officials, powerful cultivators—had fallen for her charms, chasing after her like moths to flame.

"Are you sure? It’s Young Master Li."

"Which Young Master Li?"

Her hand paused mid-application.

"The one you’ve mentioned often—the Divine Hammer Tyrant, the one said to bring luck to his women! Everyone says he and Han Xian are a pair, but who’d have thought he’d..."

The maid suddenly froze, then dropped to her knees.

"This lowly one deserves death..."

Ever since Han Xian had overtaken her on the beauty rankings, the name "Han Xian" had become taboo here.

"Tch... rise."

Hua Nongying seemed unusually cheerful today.

"Go personally. Tell him today’s gatherings are already reserved, and the deposits accepted. Then... invite him into the courtyard."

"But Madame, weren’t you curious about him? The madam seems eager to accept his offer."

(After all, Li Mo’s offer was very generous.)

"What do you know?"

Hua Nongying selected a jade hairpin, her eyes curving into sly crescents.

"People always want what they can’t have. The wife at home pales next to the mistress outside; the mistress pales next to another man’s beloved; and another man’s beloved pales next to the one just out of reach."

She cupped her cheeks, a bewitching rose-glow flickering in her gaze.

She was no different.

Nothing thrilled her more than ruining another woman’s darling.

The mere thought that he was Han Xian's beloved and the fourth-ranked prodigy on the Hidden Dragon List made her involuntarily clench her thighs.