Three days ago, a banquet hall appeared.

No one in the village knew where it came from, or why it appeared, but it stood there atop the hill as though it had always been.

Young, brave Han Jing went to investigate it and vanished into its vaulted depths. After that, no one dared approach it. Quietly, the village folk murmured about immortals and ghosts, but even their voices remained subdued. If a great ghost or a vicious immortal chose their small village as their meeting place, there was little they could do to protest. A few began to pack, choosing to move away, or at least take a short trip, rather than brave whatever portent the banquet hall foretold. Those who remained bunkered down and moved quietly. Most dared not stare too long at the banquet hall, if they dared to look at all.

In this part of the country, there was a common saying: Nothing good comes of mortals mingling with immortals. Much less ghosts.

Music was the first warning. After Han Jing’s disappearance, the villagers expected haunting, sourceless ghost music, or perhaps the brutal, savage beat of drums and war horns. Instead, it floated on the air, delicate and beautiful. On the distance, a procession appeared. Long streamers caught the wind, carried on bamboo poles by servants. Flower petals perpetually floated, seemingly falling like rain from the sky. A fine perfume met their noses, swirling around a mysterious but gorgeous palanquin, surrounded by a hundred equally gorgeous servants. Even the emperor himself would not see such finery.

Sharing glances, the villagers came out to watch the procession, dutifully bowing low as it passed. As procession after procession vanished into the banquet hall, and the sound of conversation began to grow, the villagers vanished, one family after another fleeing the streets.

Ghosts or savage demonic cultivators would have been better. They, at least, were predictable.

Nothing good comes of mingling with immortals.

-

Fu Liyu’s procession arrived at a ghost town. Hui looked around as they strode past, brows furrowing. The streets were clean and well-used, but stood empty. Houses sat along them, windows shut and doors bolted. A wiry chicken strutted the streets with a pompous air about it, feathers well-kept. He sent a pulse of qi washing over the nearest house and sensed no life within, though embers cooled in the fireplace. Hui’s frown deepened. The mortals fled, and recently. What do they know that I don’t?

Too late to ask them now.

A rich flow of qi surrounded the banquet hall. The sun set slowly, leaving the forested land in twilight. Already, the sound of conversation echoed from within the well-lit hall, mingling with laughter and the scent of fine liquor. The procession subtly sped up, everyone eager to reach the banquet hall. As they approached the door, though, Fu Liyu tutted. The procession slowed once more, and regally came to a halt. The palanquin lowered. Fu Liyu stepped out, her head held high.

Guess she decided not to worry about those remnant auras, Hui thought to himself. Well, it’s not as if Bai Xue can call the pot black.

The conversation didn’t dip as Fu Liyu walked inside. Most of the tables were already full, bustling with servants. Ying Min sat at one, and shot Fu Liyu a narrow-eyed smile as Fu Liyu entered. Fu Liyu lifted her nose higher in the air and ignored her archrival.

Hui followed the other servants, who trooped after Fu Liyu. Fu Liyu and the other Fu Clan members took their places at the table, while the servants rushed around, fetching dishes and pouring liquor. Hui hurried around busily, accomplishing nothing but looking incredibly hard-working. He furrowed his brows and marched off toward the liquor, only to turn back around and pace toward the center of the room. He watched the room instead. This is a bigger event than I suspected. Do all these people know about the plot? Or…

Heavenly music floated in from outside, distracting him. Another grand procession arrived at the door. Waiting for no one, the procession headed over to the final table in the room. The woman wore all white, a veil obscuring her face. She looked around the room, her eyes briefly settling on Hui. Faintly, Hui thought he saw the woman smile.

She… does look familiar. What about her…? Is it just because she’s wearing white, or—

Through the veil, the woman locked eyes with Hui and beckoned.

No, that’s definitely Bai Xue! Then, is this… He glanced at Fu Liyu, expecting a reaction. To his surprise, Fu Liyu lazed, playing idly with Fu Yinfei. Wait, but… huh? Aren’t they all here for Bai Xue?

He caught one of the passing servants by the sleeve. The servant turned, frowning at Hui. He cleared his throat and demurred, ducking his head. “Excuse me, Elder Brother, but isn’t Bai Xue here?”

“Huh? Where?” The servant scanned the room, looking right past Bai Xue’s female form.

“Er… never mind,” Hui said. Is this some kind of investigative tactic? Check out the girls before she commits to any of them? I have to admit, I’m somewhat surprised to see her here at all. I was sure that it was a fake. Bai Xue didn’t seem the type to set up this kind of event. I mean, she’s a little bit scum, but I didn’t think this much scum…

Music swelled again. This time, instead of delicate and ephemeral, there was a heroic tone to the theme. A broad-shouldered man strode into the room, hair flowing wildly, robes billowing. In a masculine, wide-chinned sort of way, he was handsome enough, though hardly at Bai Xue’s level. If I’m quite honest, he’s barely at my level, Hui thought, scoffing.

All around, the girls straightened up. They stared at him lovingly. Little gasps came all around.

“He’s even more handsome than I thought!”

“Look at that heroic chin.”

“Those formidable brows… incredible.”

“I could fall into those broad arms any day!”

“Bai Xue… marry me!”

Eh… wait. That’s supposed to be Bai Xue?

Hold up. Doesn’t he look like… Hui squinted. No, it’s definitely him. That’s Mo Gonglu!

Ah! No wonder he didn’t care that his fiancée was going to see Bai Xue. He’s ‘Bai Xue,’ so what does he care?

But… what confidence. What supreme chutzpah! Calling himself Bai Xue with that kind of face… all I can say is that he truly has faith in himself.

“Good afternoon, beauties! I can barely believe that so many lovely ladies have gathered here to celebrate my accomplishments. Of course… there might be a little more celebration tonight, no?” Mo Gonglu waggled his eyebrows.

There were a few titters, a few quiet giggles.

Hui shook his head. What a pale imitation of the original. Bai Xue would have all these girls blushing in ten seconds flat. Honestly… these small clans have never been to Twin Elemental City, have they? If they’d ever seen any member of the Bai Clan, they wouldn’t believe for a second that this oaf is the ultimate… penultimate Bai Clan beauty. Penultimate, but only because I don't dare insult her mother!

“Well, well. Eat, drink! I’m sure I’ll get to know all you beauties quite… intimately, by the end of the night,” Mo Gonglu said, strutting toward the head table.

At his invitation, servants appeared from the back halls bearing food, and began to serve up the banquet. The scent of spirit food, mingled with its unique, thick qi filled the room.

Hui took a deep breath. Reminds me of Sis Mei’s kitchen.

I’ll bring it back. I’ll bring it all back. Sis Mei… wait for me!

Bai Xue—the real one—met Hui’s eye again and gestured. This time, there was a finality to the gesture, a come hither, or else.

Hui swallowed, more afraid of Bai Xue’s ‘or else’ than a thousand demonic cultivators. After all, the demonic cultivators are only after my little life. Bai Xue is after my everything!

Grabbing Ying Lin, Hui glanced around to make sure no one was looking. All the cultivators focused on the food in front of them, ignoring the servants they’d brought, most of whom stood at the edge of the room demurely.

“What are we doing?” Ying Lin whispered.

“Come with me. It’s important,” Hui replied quietly. I don’t dare leave Ying Lin alone with Bai Xue in the vicinity. Or worse, that ruffian Mo Gonglu. I know Bai Xue has some morals, but I don’t know if Mo Gonglu does!

Ying Lin glanced at Hui and nodded. If Master says it’s important, it must be quite important! I wonder if this is some kind of secret meeting between high-tier cultivators?

Drawing Ying Lin after him, Hui made his way around the edges of the banquet toward Bai Xue.