“Yu’er! Yu’er!” a voice floated from the inner quarters. The sound of hinges creaked. Perfume and steam spilled out as Xie Wei cracked open the door and looked in the bathroom. Between painted screens of carp and ripples hung a red silk dress. Beyond it, in a cloud of steam, a slim figure bathed. “What is it, Big Sis?” “You and your cleanliness, two or three baths a day!” Xie Wei teased. “It’s hot,” Xie Yu answered. “I can’t stand the faintest whiff of sweat. Catch a trace and I’m in a foul mood for half a month.” “A fifth rank youth is waiting in the reception hall. He says he’s here for you.” Xie Yu’s laugh bubbled up like wine. “Let the stinky man wait. I’ve decided. If Father’s pick doesn’t please me, I won’t marry. He can take the groom himself.” Xie Wei suddenly broke into helpless laughter, gasping for breath. “What’s so funny, Sis?” “This time, Little Sister, pass up this frog and there may never be another prince.” “I’m starting to envy you,” Xie Wei said, pulling the door nearly shut. “Finish your bath, then sneak a peek from behind the screen.” The door thumped closed. Curiosity pricked, Xie Yu scooped petals over her skin, stepped from the water, dried, wrapped herself in her scarlet silk dress, slipped on embroidered shoes, and padded out. Behind the parlor screen she found half the aunts of the household already queued up, eyes agleam with gossip. They parted enough for her to peek through the fretwork. A young man in snow‑white robes sat cradling a blade. He was perfect, flawless, really. One glance and she couldn’t look away. He was simply too handsome. Waking at midnight to that face on the pillow…might not be bad at all, Xie Yu thought to herself. Maybe just another pretty parasite? No, Big Sis said he was fifth rank. Xie Yu was a shameless lover of beautiful faces; once she liked what she saw, etiquette went flying. She strode straight into the hall. She didn’t care at all  about the rule that the bride wasn’t meant to meet suitors. Scarlet silk blazed around a beauty fresh from the bath. Damp hair draped her shoulders like ink wash, messy in theory, alluring in practice. Lips exactly the right shade, legs smooth as poured cream. Li Yuan scented the air. “You’ve just bathed?” Amused by the abrupt question, she nodded. “Just now.” “Could you urge the governor to hurry?” he sighed. “I’ve traveled far, caked in road dust. I can barely stand it.” Her eyes lit. “You wish to bathe?” “I heard you’re fifth rank.” “How is that relevant to you?” he asked coolly. “If you pass my inspection, no need for the tournament trials.” At that, the aunts behind the screen squeaked in alarm. The tournament was her father’s inviolate rule; open rounds, 84 into 64, then 32, 16, 8, 4, 2 until the final champion earned the right to be the Xie Clan’s son‑in‑law. The whole spectacle took a month. Even Xie Yu had no say. With the forthright footsteps, the Fourth Madam of the clan emerged. She was the current favorite of the governor. “Forgive the presumption, Young Master Ximen,” she said, then beckoned. “Yu’er, come back here.” Li Yuan watched the girl, already certain of her identity, and said, “Suppose I show you my blade instead?” The Fourth Madam snapped, “Young Master!” Seeing the madam rebuffed, Xie Yu brightened. “I can’t cancel the tournament, but I can offer you a bath. My treat.” “Yu’er!” The Fourth Madam scowled. Li Yuan’s eyes lit up. “Truly?” The madam’s voice sharpened. “Young Master!” “Positively,” Xie Yu said, sweeter than ever. “I’ll give you the red lotus petals I just picked and the jade dew tonic brewed from last winter’s first plum blossoms.” The Fourth Madam nearly tore her sleeves. “Yu’er!” Li Yuan laughed and rose. “In that case, if you wish to see my blade, nothing could be easier.” The Fourth Madam shrieked for servants, but Li Yuan had already stepped into the courtyard, blade in hand. He didn’t care for showing off, yet just this once he meant to dazzle the girl. Someone dropped from the air, hurrying over. A reading of 2,455~6,826 flared above the newcomer’s head. “You’ll do,” Li Yuan said. A hush fell. The man was Fang Tong, the estate’s chief steward, a powerhouse sitting only a step below fourth rank. He had come at Fourth Madam’s cry. Now he eyed the arrogant youth. “There’s always a higher sky, sir. Fifth rank martial artists vary in strength. If you truly wish to demonstrate it, why not wait for the tournament instead of brandishing steel here?” His voice carried heavy authority; the courtyard fell silent. The Fourth Madam seized the moment. “Steward Fang, perfect timing! This boy, the Third Miss actually wants to bathe with him. It’s utterly improper!” “Third Miss?” The white‑robed youth turned, studying the girl in scarlet. “Are you the lady my sect intends me to marry?” Amusement twinkled in her eyes. “You don’t seem thrilled.” “I feared a woman who reeked of sweat,” Li Yuan said blandly. “You, at least, are tolerable.” “A pity, I feared a smelly man,” she shot back. “You’ll do, barely.” Their private banter made both the madam and the steward feel thoroughly snubbed. Fang Tong forced a calm breath. “From which sect, may I ask, does this young master hail?” “An unnamed mountain, far overseas,” Li Yuan replied. “My elders sent me into the Central Plains to taste the world. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the N0v3l.Fiɾe.net “Since Steward Fang declines a bout and I have a promise to the Third Miss—” He drew his blade. The blade rose in a slow, unremarkable arc—plain, silent, ordinary. Xie Yu frowned; the Fourth Madam and the watching aunts whispered. Was he really just a pretty face? Fang Tong’s expression tightened. He flicked a green leaf toward the blade. The instant it touched steel, the leaf vanished. A clueless aunt gasped. “Where’d it go? Parlor tricks?” But Fang Tong understood. Shock widened his eyes. “Your sect’s grand mastery. Can it create formless blade qi at will?” “It can,” Li Yuan said. A long moment passed. Then the steward bowed low, fists together. “My earlier words were out of line. I beg your pardon.” The women still hadn’t grasped the display, but Fang Tong’s sudden capitulation told them enough. Hands clasped behind her back, chin high, Xie Yu smiled. “Come, the bath awaits.” Li Yuan sheathed the blade. “My thanks.” Together they strolled deeper into the residence, leaving the others staring. The Fourth Madam rounded on the steward. “What happened? Is his blade that terrifying? Is his sect so powerful?” “That stroke alone makes me revere him like a god,” Fang Tong said gravely. “As for his sect…a month ago, Shu Shiyuan and Liu Tie were riding home from the south with 300 cavalry. A stranger in a straw hat crossed their path. “One cut, only one, forced all of them to hold their breath, not daring to move. He let them go once he heard their names. I couldn’t fathom who he was until now. Clearly, he belongs to the same lineage as Young Master Ximen.” He glanced toward the main residence. “Madam, you should inform the lord at once. We…may not need a tournament at all.”