One might think that after being crowned the "Gentle Sovereign of Blossoming Affections," having his sword confess romantic poetry, and finding an unauthorized biography circulating across the continent… Jiang Chen would be allowed a quiet day.
He certainly thought so.
That was his first mistake.
The second was assuming that Pei Yun and Lin Wuyue wouldn't have yet another surprise waiting for him.
It started with a note. Simple. Innocent-looking.
Folded and left on his desk that morning:
"Sect Leader Jiang —You are cordially invited to the annual Moonlit Blossom Dance tonight.As the guest of honor.Dress accordingly."
Jiang Chen stared at it.
Then at the beautiful silver seal pressed into the bottom corner: the Celestial Pavilion of Arts — the most prestigious cultivation society dedicated to music, dance, and calligraphy.
"…I didn't even know they held dances," he muttered.
Pei Yun poked her head into the room. "Ah! You got the invitation!"
"You KNEW about this."
"Of course," she said, far too cheerfully. "You're their honored guest. It's a huge event."
"I'm not a dancer."
"Doesn't matter."
"I'm not going."
"You can't refuse."
"I absolutely can."
"You already accepted."
"WHAT."
Pei Yun smiled sweetly. "I may have RSVP'd on your behalf."
He groaned. "Why."
She sauntered inside, placing a set of folded garments on his chair. Rich black and silver silk. Subtle embroidery in the style of drifting clouds and quiet rivers.
"I figured it would suit you."
"I have nothing to dance for."
"Is that so?" She leaned close, eyes sparkling. "Because I hear a certain sword-wielding Sovereign is the object of many affections these days."
"I did not ASK for that."
"Sometimes fate asks for you."
Before he could protest further, Lin Wuyue arrived, a faint blush on her cheeks. "Sect Leader… I hope you don't mind, but I signed up for the dance as well."
He blinked. "You're attending?"
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I thought it might be nice to… enjoy an evening together. After everything."
Pei Yun clapped her hands. "See? Even Wuyue agrees."
Jiang Chen was cornered.
By two women.
One mischievous, one sincere.
And his own poor, betrayed calendar, which now very clearly read:
"Tonight — 7:00 PM — Moonlit Blossom Dance."
He covered his face.
"Fine."
The hours passed far too quickly.
By evening, the Celestial Pavilion's grand courtyard shimmered under silver lanterns. Soft petals drifted in the air, perfumed with faint spiritual essence. The floor gleamed with polished jade.
Dozens of cultivators, young and old, had gathered — most garbed in exquisite robes, their hair adorned with flowers or gleaming ornaments.
But when he arrived…
A hush swept the crowd.
Whispers surged.
"There he is… Jiang Chen…"
"He's even more handsome in person…"
"Did you hear? His sword confessed to him…"
"…And he's wearing matching silver with black embroidery — so refined…"
Jiang Chen could feel his temples throbbing.
He had barely taken three steps inside when Lin Wuyue approached.
And he nearly stopped breathing.
She wore a flowing gown of pale blue silk, the color of mist over a tranquil lake. Her hair was pinned up with delicate silver combs, stray strands brushing her cheeks. There was a faint shimmer to her gaze — bright, but shy.
"…Wuyue," he said softly. "You look…"
She smiled faintly. "Different from how I usually am?"
"…Yes," he admitted.
"I could say the same about you," she replied, eyes warm.
Before he could think of a response, a voice called out across the courtyard:
"Let us welcome our honored guest — the Sovereign of Blossoming Affections!"
A wave of polite applause rose.
Jiang Chen wanted to crawl under the floor.
But he stepped forward, nodded once, and forced a thin smile.
"I… thank you for your invitation," he said. "Please… enjoy the evening."
Someone handed him a small silver token — the guest of honor's dance token.
And then the music began.
A gentle, lilting melody.
Pairs of cultivators began to step into the open space, twirling gracefully.
Before he could retreat to a safe corner—
Lin Wuyue's soft voice reached him.
"…May I have this dance?"
He blinked at her.
Her cheeks were faintly pink.
Her hand, extended.
His sword wasn't reciting poetry.
The sky hadn't fallen.
And in that moment — just this once — he thought…
Maybe it wouldn't hurt…
He took her hand.
And the crowd whispered again.
"Look… he accepted!"
"They're dancing together…"
"I never thought I'd see Sect Leader Jiang smile like that…"
He didn't realize he was smiling.
Not until he looked down and saw Lin Wuyue gazing up at him, her eyes shimmering softly.
They moved together — slowly, at first. Carefully. Neither an expert dancer, but in perfect step.
Pei Yun leaned against a pillar nearby, watching with a knowing grin.
"Ah," she murmured. "Our Sovereign… truly hopeless."
As the music flowed, Jiang Chen gradually relaxed — the weight of eyes on him fading.
In that moment, the world seemed… quiet.
Just him.
And her.
The melody faded.
And as they parted — reluctantly — Lin Wuyue whispered:
"…Thank you."
He blinked. "For what?"
"For giving me this moment."
He opened his mouth — but the words caught in his throat.
Before he could gather his thoughts—
Another cultivator approached.
"Sect Leader Jiang — would you honor me with a dance?"
And another.
And another.
Soon, a line was forming.
Pei Yun waved brightly from the side. "You're quite popular tonight!"
"…I'm going to scream," Jiang Chen muttered.
Lin Wuyue laughed softly — and this time, her gaze lingered a little longer before she stepped aside.
He watched her go — and wondered:
When had her absence begun to feel so obvious?