66: Chapter 66 The Guest of Honor

That pale hand lifted the gauze curtain, and with it, the silence that filled the hall.

A figure slowly stepped out.

The lights were brilliant, but in that instant, they all paled in comparison.

What kind of woman was she?

She wore a light purple dress with elegant orchids embroidered on the hem. Her black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, simply held up by a green jade hairpin, with a few strands hanging by her cheeks, swaying gently as she moved.

Her appearance was beyond words.

If Su Xin was an ice mountain snow lotus, cold and ethereal, carrying a bone-chilling frost...

Then the woman before them was an orchid in a secluded valley, gentle as jade, carrying the refined air of a scholar, yet possessing a pair of soul-stirring peach blossom eyes that naturally exuded charm with every glance.

Purity and seduction, two completely different temperaments, were perfectly blended in her, forming a fatal temptation.

Chen Fan's heart skipped a beat.

What a peerless beauty.

In terms of looks alone, she was not the least bit inferior to that enchantress Su Xin.

"This Young Master," Miss Nishang spoke. Her voice was like a mountain spring, tinkling clearly, yet carrying the soft Wu dialect of the southern water towns, making one's bones feel weak just listening to it.

"Would you care to come upstairs for a chat?"

As soon as these words were spoken, the entire hall erupted once more!

"My god! Miss Nishang actually invited him!"

"What kind of dumb luck does this kid have!"

"It's more than just luck! Didn't you hear that poem? That's talent! Immense talent!"

Envy, jealousy, and resentment filled the air.

Countless complex gazes, like sharp arrows, shot toward Chen Fan all at once.

Xu Wencai's originally handsome face was now twisted beyond recognition.

He stared fixedly at Chen Fan, then at the beautiful figure on the stage, feeling a surge of blood in his chest and a sweetness in his throat, nearly spitting out a mouthful of blood.

What a great humiliation!

He flicked his sleeves and turned away, squeezed out of the crowd in a pathetic state, surrounded by his servants.

On the other side, the Disciples of the Longxing Sect were all beaming with pride, standing tall as if they were the ones invited.

Zhang Shan was so excited that his face was flushed red. He grabbed Chen Fan's arm and shook it vigorously.

"Senior Brother! Senior Brother! Did you hear that!"

"Miss Nishang invited you up!"

He lowered his voice and spoke into Chen Fan's ear with a tone bordering on envy, "I... I really didn't expect that you... you were actually so good at this, Senior Brother!"

Chen Fan: "..."

What could he even say?

He was also quite helpless.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, filled with either jealousy or admiration, Chen Fan straightened his clothes and cupped his hands toward Miss Nishang on the stage, neither humble nor arrogant.

"To be invited by you is exactly what I wished for, but I did not dare to ask."

After saying that, he stepped onto the mahogany staircase leading to the third floor, led by the madam who was being attentive to the point of fawning.

Step by step.

Every step seemed to tread on the hearts of the onlookers.

...

Inside the private room, a faint scent of sandalwood burned.

The furnishings were elegant and refined, lacking the vulgarity of typical entertainment venues, and instead resembling the study of a lady from a noble family.

A few landscape paintings hung on the walls, a guqin sat by the window, and thin wisps of smoke rose from an incense burner beside the instrument.

Miss Nishang was kneeling behind the guqin, her slender hands stroking the strings. Seeing Chen Fan enter, she stopped her movements and gave him a graceful smile.

"Young Master, please sit."

Chen Fan sat down as requested.

A maid served fragrant tea and then quietly withdrew, closing the door behind her.

For a moment, only the two of them remained in the room.

The atmosphere was somewhat subtle.

Chen Fan picked up his teacup and took a sip to hide the slight flutter in his heart.

From the look of things, it seemed like something was about to happen.

However, Ni Chang's next words left him stunned.

"Ni Chang sells her art, not her body."

She plucked a string, producing a clear and resonant sound.

"Tonight, I shall play the guqin for the Young Master alone, and perform a dance for my only true kindred spirit."

So that was it.

Chen Fan understood.

His thoughts had gone the wrong way.

But this was for the best.

He was not a lecherous man and had no great interest in feminine charms.

Being able to quietly enjoy a top-tier song and dance performance wasn't bad either.

"It was my presumption then," Chen Fan said, putting down his teacup with an apologetic smile.

Ni Chang shook her head, her peach blossom eyes always carrying a hint of inquiry as she observed him.

"The Young Master need not mind it."

"It is just that Ni Chang has one thing she does not understand, and I hope the Young Master can enlighten me."

"Please speak, Miss."

Ni Chang was silent for a moment, seemingly organizing her words.

After a long while, she finally spoke.

"The poem the Young Master composed just now was brilliant and peerless, the likes of which Ni Chang has never seen in her life."

"It is just..."

She paused, her beautiful eyes locking onto Chen Fan.

"Was this poem truly composed by the Young Master?"

Here it comes.

Chen Fan's heart tightened.

He knew the real topic had arrived.

The origin of this poem was an obstacle he couldn't avoid.

He didn't answer immediately, but instead asked back, "Why do you say that, Miss?"

Ni Chang gave a faint sigh and lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes casting a shadow under the lamplight.

"To be honest with the Young Master, Ni Chang is not from Xiushan Mountain. My coming here is ostensibly to find a kindred spirit, but in truth... it is to find someone."

"Oh?"

"Ni Chang once heard half of this poem from an old friend in the Capital..."

Her voice carried a hint of ethereal memory.

"He said that this poem was composed by an ordinary guard in the Xiushan Princes Mansion."

When these words left her mouth, the hand Chen Fan used to hold his teacup suddenly froze.

The tea rippled slightly, spreading out in circles.

Although he quickly regained his composure, that thousandth of a second of stiffness was still keenly captured by the exquisite woman across from him.

The air in the room seemed to freeze at this moment.

The smoke from the sandalwood rose straight up without the slightest flicker.

Miss Nishang looked up, her peach blossom eyes, which seemed able to see through one's heart, quietly watched him.

"Young Master..."

"You know him, don't you?"

Chen Fan nodded slowly and sighed, "I do indeed know him. His name is Lin Shou, a guard of the mansion. He composed this poem and presented it to the Princess Consort."

"And this person died by my hand."

Chen Fan spoke very calmly, as if he were recounting something that had nothing to do with him.