Vendors barked prices while buyers haggled, laughter weaving through the din. Jared weighed their options, selling loot risked exposure, refinery wages crawled, and guild missions might cost weeks he could not spare.
His calculation stalled when a sudden roar of voices burst ahead. “Come on! A martial contest for marriage!”
“Seriously? Which fairy is searching for a husband?” “Ms. Vivian of the Chance Family in East City! One of Cloudhaven’s old houses!”
“Move it, let’s watch!” A knot of cultivators surged toward the eastern district, excitement splashing from them like sparks from a forge.
Jared’s stride paused. His gaze flowed after the river of bodies, thoughtful. “A contest for marriage?”
One brow rose. “They still do that on the Fourteenth Firmament?”
Grace followed the same line of sight, recognition dawning. “The Chance Family. With the Celestial Palace weak here, two clans handle most affairs. The Chances made their fortune in alchemy, they’re rich.”
Grace hesitated. The traffic on the street kept flowing, but her words slowed the air around the three of them.
“Miss Vivian, eldest daughter of the Chance Family, is gifted beyond most. Yet she has been stuck at High Immortal Realm Level Eight for years. She must be looking for a cultivation partner, dual cultivation might punch her through the wall.”
Luther let out a quiet “I see…”
The simple reply carried the click of sudden understanding. Luther finished the remark, then caught Jared’s distant stare. A prickle of wariness ran up his spine.
“Mr. Chance,” Luther asked, voice lowered to a thread, “You’re not thinking of…”
Jared drew his gaze back, face composed. “Three hundred sixty bottles of celestial elixir isn’t pocket change. Selling loot is risky, the Essence Refinery too slow, and guild missions could eat weeks.”
He paused, calculation slipping into his tone. “But if I become the Chance Family’s son-in-law, a mere three hundred bottles shouldn’t be an issue.”
Luther’s eyes rounded until the whites showed. Grace blinked, caught completely off guard.
“Mr. Chance…” Luther tried again.
Luther swallowed. “You… You mean to enter the contest?”
Jared lifted one brow. “Any problem?”
Luther burst out, “Of course there’s a problem!”
Luther, usually unflappable, suddenly spoke fast. “This place still falls under the Celestial Palace. We’re on their wanted list! If you stand on that stage and someone recognizes you, we might never make it out. It’s just one female cultivator. If you need release, pay for it in town…”
Jared cut him a flat look, wordless ellipsis hanging in the air. Exasperation flickered in Jared’s chest; chasing women wasn’t the point, yet Luther somehow thought it was.
Do people truly picture me as a skirt-chaser?
Jared failed to see why, the women in his life had always come to him, not the other way around.
Grace studied him, then spoke soft. “Benefactor, the contest isn’t simple. Miss Vivian’s standards are high. Even if you win, she may still decline.”
She bit her lip, color rushed into her cheeks. “If you just want a woman, there’s no need to gamble. I…..”
Her lashes dropped. The rest of the words were barely a whisper. “I’m willing to give myself to Benefactor, to make you… Comfortable…”
Jared stared at her, utterly speechless. He cut in, “That’s not what I meant.”
“Miss Grace, you misunderstand,” Jared said, voice steady. “I’m entering for celestial elixir, not for women. If I become part of the Chance Family, those three hundred-plus bottles will appear on their own. Besides, when I desire company, women come to me on their own, I don’t need a contest.”
The claim wasn’t bragging. Dozens of women had sought him out; he had never chased a single one.
He could only blame it on inconvenient charm. And if boredom struck, Clara the Sword Spirit was a summon away for a thorough bout.
“Oh… Then I misread you, Benefactor…” Grace lowered her head again.
“Let’s move.” Jared angled toward the platform and started walking.
Luther blinked, then hurried after him. Grace watched his back for one quiet beat, sighed, and quickened her step.
The three of them made for the martial-match platform. They threaded through the bustling lanes and soon stepped into East City Square.
At the center stood a stage about ten feet high, its surface paved in polished blue-gold stone that caught the sun. White-jade pillars, each a little over ten feet tall, anchored the four corners. Complex array lines crawled over them, pulsing with faint spiritual light.
Beside the platform rested the Eight-Treasure Crystal Palanquin, its curtains lowered, hiding whoever sat within. Eight maids in cyan robes flanked the palanquin; every face was pretty, every aura around High Immortal Realm Level Five.
Below the stage a dense sea of onlookers had gathered, no fewer than three or four hundred cultivators packed shoulder to shoulder.
Wandering cultivators, scions of noble houses, passing merchants, all craned their necks toward the platform.
“Why hasn’t anyone gone up yet?” someone grumbled, impatience leaking through.
“Relax,” another voice answered. “The platform was just set up. Miss Vivian’s picking bold heroes, give them time to weigh themselves.”
“What’s to weigh? Those four columns are the first trial,” a third speaker said. “They test real skill, no room for cheats.”
“Exactly. Celestial energy strength, energy limit, raw body power, bloodline purity, pass two-thirds of the readings and you earn a meeting with the young lady. Most will fail.”
Jared, standing amid the crowd, fixed his gaze on the four white-jade columns.
Luther edged closer and whispered, “Mr. Chance, can those columns really measure all that?”
“They can.” Jared’s answer was simple and sure.
Jared lifted his gaze to the pillars, calm as ever. “Those carvings form a Sentient Resonance Array. When a cultivator feeds celestial energy into the stone, the array shifts the surge into visible light.
He let the thought settle before adding, “The farther the glow climbs, the stronger that trait. If the whole pillar fights from base to crown, you’re looking at absolute perfection in that category.”
Grace dipped her head, awe flickering. “Benefactor has keen eyes. The Chance Family bought these four pillars from the Celestial Basilica at great cost, Cloudhaven City owns only three full sets.”
“Miss Vivian’s standards tower above most men,” Grace continued, lowering her voice so the closest onlookers wouldn’t overhear. Average cultivators never catch her notice, so this opening trial keeps the overconfident from crowding her door.”
While she spoke, a restless ripple moved through the spectators ahead. Shouts overlapped, robes brushed, and a fresh wave of bodies squeezed forward as excitement spiked.
A barrel-chested brute muscled through the throng, clearing a path with his shoulders. With a grunt he bent his knees and vaulted onto the platform, boots thudding against the mirror-smooth stone.
He had stripped to the waist; thick muscles rippled across his bronzed torso. Veins bulged along his arms, proof that he honed flesh instead of refining life force.
“Let me have a go!” his cavernous baritone rolled across the square. The words carried the blunt certainty of someone used to smashing problems head-on.
