Yun Rao didn’t know what connection existed between An Ziyuan and the old master, Yu. On the banquet table, there were so many elders of higher rank and greater reputation than herself—yet she, a young junior guest, sat beside the host, which was no small honor. Yet considering that even the eighth-floor hall, one of the top five martial organizations in the realm, had been invited as an honored guest, it wasn’t surprising at all that the first son of the renowned family, An Ziyuan—so celebrated throughout the land—should sit so close to the host. Since her departure from the valley over a year ago, she had heard some stories about An Ziyuan’s life and achievements. At just thirteen years old, he had defeated the Lü and Wu families—the two notorious villains known as “the twin poisons of the realm”—and immediately gained fame throughout the land. Because of his serene and refined demeanor, the people bestowed upon him the poetic title of "Master Light in the Dust," or simply, the "Light-Cloud Gentleman." From that moment on, his name spread widely across the martial circles. Over the following seven years, taking advantage of countless travels, An Ziyuan skillfully resolved disputes among various clans and defeated numerous bandits who had grown into powerful foes. More than six out of every ten notorious villains in the realm fell under his hand. At twenty years old, he delivered a decisive blow to the Celestial Demon Sect—once the dominant force behind chaos and unrest in the world of martial arts—and thus restored harmony and order across the land. The fame of the "Light-Cloud Gentleman" soon reached every corner of the realm. Yet that very year, An Ziyuan quietly stepped away from the stage of the martial world. For six years now, he had not taken a hand in any affairs related to the courts or sects—only occasionally appearing on the scene with a neutral stance, never actively involved in disputes between any parties. His neutrality hadn’t diminished admiration for him; rather, it elevated his stature and influence. His ever more transcendent grace only deepened the respect he earned. Young yet possessing extraordinary talent, his martial skills were profound and immeasurable, his appearance superbly graceful, his character pure and refined. In the eyes of others, An Ziyuan had become a celestial being from beyond the ninth heaven—pure, serene, untouched by the mundane world. Thus, even though no woman had ever accompanied him throughout his life, it was not considered out of place in the eyes of the public. Indeed, if any such woman were to appear, people would rather think that she had diminished the noble radiance of this celestial figure. Yet despite his towering reputation, no one ever spoke of An Ziyuan’s family background or origins—seeming as though he truly came from beyond the heavens, making brief visits to the mortal realm before returning once again to his celestial abode. Whether he had deliberately separated his identity in the martial world from his original roots, or whether his rising fame rendered his noble lineage inconspicuous—Yun Rao did not know. Of course, what she knew about An Ziyuan’s early achievements were mostly secondhand accounts. When people spoke of him, they all expressed admiration and reverence; previously, she had thought their praises somewhat exaggerated—but now, she realized how much she had underestimated him. As she quietly sipped her clear wine, watching the various noble guests approaching to toast and exchange greetings with this celebrated young man, Yun Rao could not help but feel deeply moved by the magnetic charm of true heroism. She didn’t know whether the stories about An Ziyuan were truly accurate or not—but regarding his decisive triumph over the Celestial Demon Sect, she knew something substantial. Calling it a "decisive victory" was more than justified—today, even six years after that event, the Celestial Demon Sect had not regained its former splendor. In the eyes of the public, this celestial gentleman had indeed become an unavoidable thorn in their side. “Back then, the Celestial Demon Sect caused endless trouble throughout the realm—sparking disputes and disrupting harmony among all parties,” one guest remarked, speaking up at just the right moment as Yun Rao gently lifted her head to sip her wine. “Had it not been for An Master’s timely intervention, the whole world might have been plunged into chaos.” Yun Rao once again found herself at the center of everyone's attention. With every pair of eyes now searching for answers, she struggled even to offer a smile—her gaze drifted steadily toward An Ziyuan, who had remained silent throughout. Last night, he had treated her as if she were Su Chan—the young lady from his family—and had shown kindness. Was it still true now? Did he still care about the appearance of “Miss Su” in the eyes of others? What if Su Yan arrived now? Yet An Ziyuan only sipped his wine with a calm expression, as though unbothered by all that was happening around him. Yun Rao silently shifted her gaze to the surroundings and then sighed—she had no choice but to face it. She didn’t just need to escape from this intricately designed Yu family estate; she also needed to survive among over a thousand skilled guests, each of whom could easily overwhelm her if they chose to act. That very day, she should have been firmer—should have taken Su Yan unconscious for two days and two nights, tied her up securely—instead, she had only managed to show the invitation letter and let him walk away unharmed. That was truly a foolish move. It explained why both Bai Li and Xiao Man were so unwilling to allow her to travel alone in the outside world—she lacked martial experience and simply wasn’t sharp-minded. Speaking of it now, if it weren’t for the mention of the Celestial Demon Sect’s young lady… Yun Rao silently glanced at the bearded man across from her—the one who had just spoken up with such firmness—and he looked back at her in turn before rising abruptly and tossing his chopsticks toward her. “With that, she is not genuine!” The man shouted as he hurled the chopsticks. “She is a false Su Lady! As a child, Miss Su’s right hand was scorched by fire—there is a distinct flower-shaped scar on her little finger.” The movement of his chopsticks had been graceful yet forceful—the exact moment when they passed within an inch of Yun Rao’s face, she calmly sidestepped. Could it be that by pure coincidence, the very spot where Su Lan’s birthmark stood out so prominently? Yet no one paused to examine or verify either the authenticity of her story or her physical features. Upon hearing the man’s declaration and learning that a young lord from the Eighth-Floor Hall had just arrived at the estate, everyone instantly believed it—without questioning anything further. A wave of sudden alertness swept through them. Someone else cried out: “It is rumored recently that the Celestial Demon Sect’s young lady has been secretly planning to enter the estate and steal medicinal herbs—she must have taken Su Lady’s invitation and slipped in unnoticed!” And so, one after another, they raised their weapons, calling her “the demon girl,” and demanding she surrender immediately. Yun Rao found herself utterly bewildered by this sudden transformation—her emotions overwhelmed, yet with the situation pressing urgently, she had no choice but to raise her energy, weave through the crowd of guests, and step aside from the rising chaos. The bearded man, however, was the most persistent in his pursuit—every time Yun Rao narrowly avoided a sudden charge from the other martial artists, he moved swiftly forward with renewed determination. When she barely escaped his strong grasp during one such attack, he caught her just as she stepped back and passed beside her, brushing past with a smooth motion. “You’re here just to watch,” she gasped in frustration. “What do you want?” A deep, familiar voice broke through the din—different from his earlier outburst of strength. Yun Rao’s expression darkened slightly as she pushed against the back of the bearded man with her palm, using his momentum to glide smoothly past and step away. The disorderly crowd now scattered around her in a gentle flutter, each person instinctively retreating from the space near An Ziyuan—afraid that their movements might disturb him. Indeed, even those who had rushed into battle paused as though drawn by an unseen force. An Ziyuan remained perfectly still beside the host table, calmly sipping his wine, his eyes serene and unmoving—the very image of elegance above all earthly noise. Yun Rao inhaled deeply, then raised her energy and launched herself toward him—her hands briefly grasping his shoulders, her arms gently wrapping around his neck as she leaned close to his ear, her breath coming in short bursts. With the last strength left in her, she cried out with both urgency and emotion: “Master An! Will you not just help us a little?!” Immediately upon touching him, everyone who had been critical of her stopped mid-step—many even hesitated before taking action. “Demon girl!” the bearded man shouted, his jaw set firmly as he tried to move forward—but now, mindful of others, he remained rooted in place. The rest of the guests, too, stood frozen, unable to take the next step. An Ziyuan slowly lowered his wine cup—seeming only then aware that such a transformation had taken place—turned his gaze toward her, and then glanced at the bearded man. With a quiet, composed tone, he rose from his seat, his expression calm and indifferent: “What does it have to do with me?” As he spoke, he smoothly removed her hand from his shoulder and gently shifted aside, placing her once again in full view of all the guests—her presence now fully exposed. “Ah,” Yun Rao exclaimed, startled by the sudden shift—but before she could express her surprise, the others had already relaxed their guard. Now, one after another, they stepped forward with renewed determination to confront her—the very same people who had just a moment ago been so eager to capture her. Yun Rao clenched her fists and then stomped her foot once more—her hands now raised in an urgent motion—as she hurried toward An Ziyuan again, one hand firmly gripping his robe, the other pressing gently against her abdomen, squeezing out tears with all her strength: “Master An! How can you be so heartless? How can you just stand there and watch as we—two women—are about to perish right here in front of everyone?” The clinking of glasses and the sharp collisions of weapons echoed throughout the hall—the entire room fell into a sudden, profound silence.