Then... I'll leave too

"Since money can solve this, let's just spend some—even if it's just a bit."

Li Mo had no interest in vulgar displays of plagiarized poetry to show off.

"That's not just 'a bit' of money. And even if spending money worked..."

Xie Xuan sighed dejectedly. "At first, I was a guest too. But eventually, I pawned everything except my sword."

"......"

Li Mo had wondered how the young master of the Heavenly Mountain Sword Manor had fallen so low as to become a servant.

Turns out, he’d been thoroughly drained.

"If you think that way, then it means..."

"Nongying truly has a noble and refined temperament—not like those vulgar women obsessed with wealth."

"......Simps are truly something else."

By now, the other guests had already begun bidding. The "single word worth a thousand gold" standard was extremely high—it had to be something capable of stirring waves in the imperial capital's literary circles. Otherwise, how could it bring fame?

Most scholars capable of writing such poetry couldn’t afford to sit here in the first place.

The price soared relentlessly.

From twelve hundred taels of gold, it climbed all the way to five thousand.

And yet, staying the night was still 99.9% just for tea and conversation. Absurd.

"Five thousand taels of gold, plus a mutton-fat jade pendant!"

"Some shabby pendant you’ve got there. I’ll add a cat’s eye ring from the Western Regions and a pair of Buddha-light jade bracelets!"

The wealthy patrons threw money around like it was nothing. Some even tore off their own precious accessories and tossed them onto the table. Gold rained down, treasures were treated like weeds.

Their faces flushed red, their breaths ragged—all just to earn a smile from the beauty.

Gold. Treasures. A peerless beauty.

Everything in the House of Moonlit Pleasures seemed designed to overwhelm the senses.

Hua Nongying sat on the stage, a sweet smile playing on her lips, but a hint of boredom flickered in her eyes.

She had seen scenes like this too many times. Right now, her attention was fixed on a certain figure in the distance.

He really was... different.

Her maid had told her that Li Mo had once tried to book the entire venue with spirit crystals. His wealth was undeniable. Yet now, he sat there calmly, his expression mirroring the same resignation she felt in her heart.

"Madam, didn’t he want to book the place? Why isn’t he making a move now?" the maid whispered, puzzled.

"I suspect... he’s realized I have no interest in gold or jewels," Hua Nongying said, tilting her chin up slightly.

She had to admit—her heartbeat was a little faster than usual.

She was used to high-ranking officials and nobles who lost their minds the moment they laid eyes on her. But this was the first time she’d encountered someone who hadn’t even glanced her way since entering.

The Frost Fairy... truly had good taste.

Still, she believed Ying Bing had surpassed her on the Hundred Flowers Ranking partly because of her position in the top three of the Hidden Dragon Ranking. After all, people always had a soft spot for heroic, valiant swordswomen. No matter how chaste she remained, Hua Nongying was still a courtesan.

But courtesans had their own advantages.

A swordswoman wouldn’t know how to handle men the way she did.

Hm?

That straw-hatted man beside Li Mo... looked familiar.

"Wasn’t his name... Xie Xuan?"

She barely recalled his name—only because Xie Xuan was somewhat famous. Guests occasionally mentioned him.

The first time they met, she had been somewhat intrigued by the second-ranked genius of the Hidden Dragon Ranking.

But Xie Xuan had fallen for her too hard, too fast, becoming just another admirer at her feet. How disappointing.

It was like hunting. You hear there’s a ferocious tiger in the mountains. You prepare meticulously, train your skills, set up countless traps.

And then the tiger sees you... and bashes its own head against a tree.

Just then, she saw Li Mo sigh and nod helplessly before whispering something into Xie Xuan’s ear.

Xie Xuan’s face lit up with joy. He stood up boldly and declared:

"Bring me brush and ink!"

"Madam?"

Hua Nongying understood immediately. "Mm, send it over."

So, he wasn’t playing hard to get.

He was genuinely here to help Xie Xuan?

What had the "Little Tyrant of the Divine Hammer" just whispered to him?

At the table, Xie Xuan picked up the brush. His strokes were elegant—swordsmen often had good calligraphy.

He swiftly wrote down the single line of poetry Li Mo had murmured to him and handed it to the maid.

"Brother Li, I’m endlessly grateful. But why just one line?"

Even Xie Xuan was curious about the full poem after hearing that fragment.

"It’s enough," Li Mo said, covering his face with a hand.

He felt no thrill from showing off—only an overwhelming urge to dig a hole and bury himself in embarrassment.

He was no refined scholar to begin with. And this couldn’t even be called writing poetry—it was outright plagiarism. Plagiarism used for showing off, no less.

Suddenly, he felt the small hand in his palm slip away.

"What’s wrong?"

Han Bing—the "ice block"—smiled faintly, her expression unreadable.

"A single line of poetry, and you even managed to include her name. How impressive."

"!"

The maid carried the paper to the stage and placed it on the table.

"What he wrote was..."

Hua Nongying’s gaze fell upon the words—and then froze.

"Dancing with the moon’s reflection—how unlike the mortal realm."

By now, the "thousand gold" contest had reached its conclusion.

A wealthy merchant from the capital, having splurged ten thousand taels, grinned triumphantly, expecting an invitation to the beauty’s chambers.

Instead, he found Hua Nongying sitting there dazed, her eyes shimmering, her cheeks flushed.

She was still smiling, but unlike a courtesan’s practiced charm, she now seemed almost girlish.

"Young Master Li’s single word outweighs a thousand gold. This humble woman would love to converse with you... all night long."

"Hah! I knew it—wait, what?"

Xie Xuan, who had just leapt up in excitement, choked on his own words.

The crowd: "?"

What the hell?

"One word worth a thousand gold" sounded nice, but what word could possibly compare to cold, hard wealth?

Was it just because he was young and famous?

The merchant who had "won" earlier demanded loudly:

"What masterpiece could possibly be worth more than my chest of jewels?"

"I think... there’s no need to recite it," Li Mo muttered, barely holding it together.

A feeling known as "social death" was rapidly consuming him.

The merchant shot him a skeptical look.

At Hua Nongying’s signal, the maid brought the paper over.

"Just one line?"

He frowned as he read it—then his expression slowly stiffened before finally deflating.

With a resigned sigh, he cupped his hands toward Li Mo and sat back down without another word.

"Then Young Master Li shall stay. This humble woman must excuse herself now."

Hua Nongying’s robe slipped slightly, revealing a bare shoulder—whether intentional or not was unclear.

Her tone carried an unmistakable dismissal.

The other guests rose to leave.

"......"

Han Bing stood as well, her smile faint but her eyes screaming:

"Well... I’ll be going then?"

"Wait!"

......