As soon as the plan had been finalized, the Order of Sentinels used a contact they had in Black Fang and entered Qinghe into the competition as a distant relative of that person.
When the day of the competition arrived, Qinghe was picked up by an unremarkable carriage in a pre-designated point and transported to the venue, where he was given a jade plate with the number sixteen etched into it. Later, the numbers of all the competitors would be put into a box and lots would be drawn to decide who paired up against whom.
The venue where the competition was going to be held was a wide open field with spectator stands on either side packed with audience. Positioned in between the spectator stands and at the edge of the competition grounds was a tall tower-like structure with elaborate curved roofs. There was only a single room in the structure, located on the top-most level of this tower, and was reserved solely for the leader of Black Fang, Yuan Sheng, to view the competition from.
In this meticulously protected room, Yuan Sheng currently sat on a luxuriously padded chair while resting his chin on the back of his hand. With piercing eyes, he surveyed the various beauties who'd come to vie for his favor with an impassive and assessing gaze.
There was a lot of talent this time, purportedly because of his organization's continued resistance against the Order. Many people from his ally faction, along with those who hoped to join him, had all sent the top beauties from their households, hoping that one of them would catch his eye and successfully bewitch him so that they could in turn keep Yuan Sheng under their control. But the leader of Black Fang was hardly such an easy man to scheme against.
Towards these sorts of petty tricks, all Yuan Sheng felt was disdain. He might appreciate beauty, but he was hardly foolish enough to be blinded by it.
As his mind wandered over the various plots and machinations at play, both within the organization and against the Order, Yuan Sheng's gaze swept over the competition venue absentmindedly. But as his eyes landed on a certain person, the stunning beauty dragged back Yuan Sheng's awareness, making him focus his gaze on that devastating face and figure.
Standing on the field among the contestants was a dazzling young man in a peach and turquoise robe, clutching a red fan in his hand and standing apart from the rest with a superior expression.
Unlike the other competitors who were either too submissive or too confident, this man's face showed a haughty pride, yet his eyes revealed a hard-to-catch vulnerability. Though his posture was straight and confident, his hands were held too close to his body, his fingers skimming up and down the side of the fan, giving away his nervousness. These subtle details that only a discerning eye could catch showed the fragility and defenselessness hidden underneath that arrogant façade.
Yuan Sheng couldn't help but sit up straighter, the indifference in his eyes finally giving way to interest.
As he studied that beautiful face further, he couldn't help but notice that there were some coincidental similarities between this interesting little beauty and the Sentinel Grandmaster. But Yuan Sheng was already aware that the Grandmaster was someone who had ascended from a different world, so there were unlikely to be any of his relatives present here.
Also, Yuan Sheng knew the Grandmaster's personality well. After all, he was his biggest obstacle to date, so he had made it his business to study him thoroughly. According to what Yuan Shen knew of him, that staid and boring person couldn't have gotten it up with some woman to give birth to a son or something. He was just that much of an abstinent celibate, so he was convinced that he didn't need to worry about this beauty being related to the Grandmaster.
Since it was like that, Yuan Sheng couldn't help but get excited at the thought of bedding this person who looked so much like the enemy leader. Just how would he look when he was stripped bare and humiliated? How would he look when kneeling and begging for mercy? Making him submit while he bore that face would be really too entertaining!
Thus, Yuan Sheng began studying this contestant more closely, his eyes eagerly assessing this beauty's body.
The young man looked lightly-muscled and his movements seemed limber and graceful, but by the manner in which he held himself, it was obvious that he lacked experience. The only way to offset this disadvantage would be if he was powerful enough to make up for his inexperience.
Thinking this, Yuan Sheng couldn't help but feel anticipation towards seeing this beauty's matches. He had already decided that if this young man was talented enough to make it to the end, then he would choose him as the winner. That is, if this person didn't turn out to be one of those people sent to bewitch and manipulate him or was someone who bore him ill will.
Just as Yuan Sheng began fantasizing about having this new beauty, the person in question himself turned to look in his direction with a puzzled expression as if sensing someone's gaze.
As their eyes met, Yuan Sheng felt an eager smile curling his lips. He couldn't wait for a chance of observing this delectable young man from up close while listening to his voice and seeing what expressions he would make in his presence.
At the other end of Yuan Sheng's gaze, Qinghe swished open his fan and demurely covered the bottom half of his face as he lowered his head. All that was visible over the fan's edge were the tops of his lightly flushed cheeks and his clear eyes seeming to hide his bashfulness.
Seeing this, Yuan Sheng licked his lips, his eyes growing deeper as he felt his desire stirring.
Meanwhile, as he watched his little lover acting coy from the shadows, Wei Xiang didn't know if he should feel amused or jealous.
And so, a whispering voice lightly floated up to Qinghe's ear and chided, "Love, why are you biting your lip like that? Did you forget that your mouth is hidden behind the fan? There's no need to put in that much effort while acting for that scum."
However, not noticing the hint of jealousy in his lover's tone, Qinghe parted his lips and whispered back with aggravation, "I'm not acting, I just don't like how he's looking at me. It makes me feel nauseous. I'm afraid that if I don't bite my lip, I'll throw up whatever is in my stomach."
Hearing this, Wei Xiang felt much better. In an amused tone, he reminded, "Qinghe, you haven't eaten anything for the past few weeks, so I doubt you have anything in your stomach worth throwing up."
Striving to keep up his proud yet uncertain mask, Qinghe retorted, "Xiang, did you forget the breakfast you fed me just a few hours ago?"
Wei Xiang felt confused for a second before finally remembering. This morning, his little lover had taken great delight in swallowing him into his mouth, teasing and sucking him until he erupted, then gulping down every single drop of his release with glee.
Realizing that this was what his lover called his 'breakfast', Wei Xiang felt speechless.
"Ah, why is he looking at me like that? Xiang, do you think I did anything wrong? Did he already figure out that I'm acting?" Qinghe muttered behind the fan worriedly.
Recovering his senses, Wei Xiang felt like sighing. "No, love, he's looking at you like that because your acting is too much on the spot. That bastard Yuan Sheng is definitely lusting after you," he said with dissatisfaction coloring his voice.
Qinghe blinked confusedly. "I…see. But Xiang, why do you sound so weird and grumpy?"
After a pause, Wei Xiang replied straightforwardly, "Having another person staring at my dear lover with obvious lust makes me jealous and angry. It's an unreasonable response on my part, so I'll handle it, don't worry."
Qinghe couldn't help smiling softly as he declared, "Xiang, no matter what, my soul will always remain bound to yours. We will always belong to each other, so you don't have to feel insecure, alright?"
Wei Xiang felt the restlessness in his heart settle at these affectionate words said with such firm conviction. In a relatively calmer tone, he reassured, "Thank you, I'm alright now."
Closing his fan and lifting his head again, Qinghe maintained his character even as warmth spread in his chest. The very fact that his lover thought he was worth feeling jealous over made him strangely happy, though he didn't dare let it show on his face right now.
Meanwhile, the other contestants around Qinghe had all formed groups of their own based on the relationship between their backers, their smiles wide and dripping poison and their eyes forming cheerful crescents while hiding daggers.
The covert glances they shot towards the proud and lone figure amidst them were filled with competitive spirit. Just based on looks along, this person clad in peach and turquoise would definitely be their biggest rival in gaining the favor of the leader of Black Fang. They could only hope that his fighting skills were nothing special.
But when the competition finally began, these other competitors were all forced to see their hopes being thoroughly dashed into smithereens right in front of them.
Qinghe's first match was against a young man who was much slimmer and shorter than him. The young man had large, glassy green eyes and bright azure markings on one side of his face made of hair-thin lines, the edges exact and defined.
With a vicious expression, the young man flung out his pure white sleeves. Elegant curls of silvery smoke emerged from its depths, immediately shooting out in Qinghe's direction.
With an arrogant expression that conveyed just how much he was looking down on his opponent, Qinghe opened his fan and waved it in a casual yet elegant arc. Wind blasted out from him and blew the smoke right back at its owner.
The young man hurriedly stepped back to avoid getting a face full of his own corrosive vapor, an expression of anger twisting his delicate features. His fingers dipped into his sleeves in a quick motion before the young man took out a handful of amber colored pearls. Charging back at Qinghe, he began flicking the small pearls one by one towards his opponent.
With a haughty snort of derision, Qinghe snapped his fan close and swung it fearlessly against the first of the pearls hurtling towards him. The edge of the closed fan seemed to be as sharp as a blade as it sliced the pearl cleanly in two, interrupting the activation of its spell and preempting any offensive effect it could have had.
Leaping forward with his robes fluttering gracefully, Qinghe struck at the other pearls in quick succession to render them ineffective as well. Then flicking open his fan again, Qinghe sent out a gust of strong wind that tore through the arena and directly knocked his opponent to the ground.
As the frail-looking young man landed roughly on the hard-packed earth, he immediately fainted on impact, instantly losing the match.
Standing straight, Qinghe lifted his chin with a pleased look as he cast a brief glance at his downed opponent before turning on his heel and striding away. Then as if remembering something, he snuck a peek towards the tower looming over the competition grounds, coincidentally meeting the eyes of the man seated inside once again.
Seeing the beauty he had been watching winning in such a spectacular way that displayed both his extraordinary bearing and his powerful mastery over the wind element, Yuan Sheng felt his interest in him deepening. His gaze as he looked at Qinghe this time was much more heated and expectant, his smile widening into a leer.
Qinghe once again looked away while seeming to veil his blush behind his opened fan, but he was in fact hiding his grimace.
He had never been one to pay attention to how others looked at him, but now that he had to see Yuan Sheng's expression, Qinghe felt as if something disgusting was squirming in his stomach. The other man's look reminded him too much about the way the men who'd molested him at the orphanage had looked.
"Qinghe, if you don't want to continue, then we have to go no further," Wei Xiang spoke worriedly after having caught his little lover's uncomfortable expression.
But Qinghe shook his head. "No, I'm fine. It's just a little unpleasant, that's all."
Wei Xiang paused as if in thought, then said in an exceedingly gentle tone, "Qinghe, no matter what that man might want or try to do, I will always be here. I won't let him touch you if you don't want him to. I will not let him do anything to you. You are safe, do you understand?"
Hearing the exact reassurance he needed, Qinghe felt a rush of relief so intense that he almost broke character. Yes, what had he been worried about? He wasn't alone like he was back then. Now, with his Xiang here, no one could hurt him. There was no need to let past fears bog him down right now.
And so, Qinghe entered the next round in an even more relaxed state of mind, deciding that it was finally time to implement a few of Kong Min's suggestions.
Qinghe's opponent this time was a charming older woman, her hair a cascade of ebony ringlets and her dress a sleeveless silk robe that flowed over her form like water. While fighting, she was swift and ruthless in her attacks, sending out the invisible thread wound around her middle finger to cut down anything in her path.
Evading the thread by using light steps and retaliating with the wind, Qinghe fought as if he were dancing, his movements elegant but also as if putting on an elaborate performance. His flamboyant and pleasing motions were unlike his usual decisive and efficient offensives from the second round of the Hundred-Year Tournament. But though these showy movements seemed natural, every little action was in fact carefully calculated and executed.
Making it seem like his mind had suddenly wandered, Qinghe let his eyes drift over to the tower as if unable to help it. His body was angled as if to evade an attack, only for a part of his opponent's thread to end up slicing open his clothes seemingly due to his absentmindedness. Of course, this was exactly as Qinghe had planned and one of the things Kong Min had instructed him to do before.
Acting as if he were startled, Qinghe whipped his head back to face his opponent with embarrassed anger on his face, then opened his fan. Rather than sending out a directionless gale, he instead flung out an unceasing torrent of sharp wind blades.
The woman tried to desperately block it, her hand whipping about quickly to make her thread slice the wind blades one by one, but there were just too many for her to contend with at once. She tried to dodge the wind blades, but still ended up incurring quite a few cuts in the process.
Clutching an especially deep wound on her arm, the woman gritted her teeth. Streaks of red slipped from between her fingers as the thin yet deep slice bled copiously. That one attack had convinced the woman that she was no match for her opponent, and so she straightened and called out loudly, "I concede!"
The audience muttered dissatisfiedly, but the woman looked uncaring. She did not want to stubbornly push ahead only to end up with a permanent disability because of this, so she chose to cut her losses now itself and admit defeat. It was obvious that she didn't have a chance of winning anyway.
And so, Qinghe was declared the winner once again.
This time, though Qinghe stood just as haughtily as before, he cut quite a different picture.
With the front of his clothes sliced, his robes were constantly threatening to fall open and slide down his shoulders, so Qinghe had to hold on to the edges of the tear with a hand. Even then, a small slice of his collarbone was visible, peeking through the edges of the cut temptingly. One of his opponent's earlier attacks had also managed to knock out his hair stick, causing his hair to come unbound and swing freely in the wind like a silken banner.
While standing in the middle of the field in this enticing state, Qinghe once more peeked at the person in the tower before quickly looking away again, a shy and self-conscious blush spreading over his cheeks while the hand that was clutching his robe closed clenched even tighter over the fabric.
Seeing this, Yuan Sheng felt that it had suddenly become very difficult to hold himself back. Raising a hand, he summoned one of the guards standing at a discreet distance and ordered, "Bring me that contestant who just won. Tell him that I want to grant him an audience with me."
The guard nodded obediently before leaving to do as his leader bid.
Yuan Sheng thought for a while, then called another guard over to command, "Ask my lovely little Firebird to come over as well."
After all, his current lover had the right to know just who might replace him by the end of this competition.
As Yuan Sheng waited, the guard he'd sent to Qinghe finally reached him.
"Contestant Sixteen, the leader summons you to grant you the honor of an audience with him," the guard barked.
Qinghe furrowed his brows as if angry at the guard for his disrespect towards him. "Very well, but let me change my clothes first. I can hardly make a good first impression in these tattered robes."
The guard showed an impatient expression as he urged, "There is no need. The leader summoned you, so it's best not to keep him waiting. Just go over like this, I'm sure the lord won't mind."
After all, the guard was very clear that it was because of these ripped clothes that his leader had considered calling for this contestant in the first place, so he couldn't have him changing out of it now.
Qinghe of course knew this, but acting according to his role, he kept trying to make a fuss. "How disrespectful you are! A mere guard dares to tell me what to do? Do you think you can speak on the leader's behalf like this?!"
The impatience on the guard's face grew, but he still continued being polite while he kept on urging Qinghe to go up the tower.
After a while of arguing, Qinghe acted as if his gaze was drawn towards the tower on its own again, his eyes meeting Yuan Sheng's. Seeing this, Yuan Sheng smiled and crooked a finger in a beckoning gesture.
Qinghe immediately stopped arguing and began walking towards the tower with flushed cheeks, puzzling the harried guard to no end.
Meanwhile inside the tower, Yuan Sheng's current lover slowly walked into the top floor and towards the only seat in the room, his eyes remaining closed and his displeasure at being woken in the middle of his nap obvious on his face.
The feathered edges of his ears quivered as Zhuo Ye mapped out the room in his mind, his gait remaining steady and unhurried despite his closed eyes. His lightly curled red hair swayed side-to-side along with the seductive motion of his hips as he strode directly towards Yuan Sheng.
When his lover reached his side, Yuan Sheng extended a hand and brushed his fingers over a soft and pale cheek. "Here you are, Firebird. Do you want to see just what kind of person might take your place after today?"
Without fearing consequences, the red-haired Zhuo Ye slapped away the fingers on his face irritably, then wiped the hand he'd hit his lover with on Yuan Sheng's own clothes. "Keep your perverted hand to yourself," he admonished.
Yuan Sheng showed a helpless and indulgent look, but there was no affection in his eyes, only amusement.
"You'll break my heart if you act like that, my pretty little Firebird," he spoke, deliberately pitching his voice to sound wounded.
However, Zhuo Ye only snorted and spoke conversationally, "Who are you putting on this act for? We both know that you have no heart, you bastard."
"Oh? Then what do I have?" Yuan Sheng asked curiously.
Zhuo Ye replied mercilessly, "Probably a lump of squirming worms that are just as slimy and disgusting as you."
Yuan Sheng burst out laughing.
Just then, a guard announced, "Contestant Sixteen is here, my lord."
As Yuan Sheng's gaze turned eagerly towards the entrance, Zhuo Ye's ears flicked once, gauging the new person who had just arrived.