Chapter 438: Lament of the Ashen Swallow

One that caused a massive wave of shrieks and applause from the wealthy succubi and demon lords in the audience.

And then, stepping out from the opposite side of the stage, was Lin Ji’an.

The crowd’s roar died in their throats, replaced by a sudden, gasp of absolute awe.

Ji’an walked out in the flowing dark crimson pants and the plunging black silk vest. But it wasn’t the scandalous outfit that paralyzed the room.

It was the suffocating gravity of her presence. With her glitching artifact softening her jaw, and her luminescent silver hair cascading down her back, she didn’t look like a dancer.

She looked like a captive celestial god, arrogant, untamed, and fiercely, devastatingly beautiful.

She didn’t sway her hips. She walked with a heavy, purposeful, military stride, her silver-flecked eyes sweeping the audience with utter disdain.

Up in the Third-Tier VIP Suite, Yan Xuanye had been raising his goblet to his lips to take a bored sip of wine.

The moment Ji’an stepped into the light, the Blood Sovereign completely froze.

The goblet slipped from his long, elegant fingers. It shattered against the plush velvet carpet, spilling dark red wine across his boots.

He didn’t notice.

He didn’t care.

His glowing amber eyes widened behind his iron mask, locking onto the silver-haired figure on the stage.

’The hair is silver,’ Yan Xuanye’s mind frantically processed the data, his heart slamming against his ribs with the force of a battering ram. ’The face is softer. The energy is obscured. But that posture. That arrogant, furious, utterly impatient slouch.’

He leaned forward, gripping the velvet railing of the balcony so hard the petrified wood cracked under his fingers.

He watched the way she casually, aggressively adjusted her sleeve. He watched the precise shift of her weight as she halted in the center of the stage.

’It’s him,’ Yan Xuanye realized, the breath catching in his throat. ’It’s the Chef. The monster with the spatula. The tyrant of the Drunken Peak.’

But the realization did not bring the sadistic amusement he expected.

Instead, staring down at the impossibly beautiful, fierce, commanding figure wrapped in sheer black silk, the Blood Sovereign felt a overwhelming surge of an emotion he had not experienced in years.

He was utterly, comprehensively smitten.

The arrogant boy who used to hit him with rolling pins was standing on a stage looking like a forbidden, celestial masterpiece.

The urge to break through the window, vault down to the stage, murder the foxy courtesan standing next to him, and wrap his own velvet cloak around his shoulders to hide him from the thousands of staring eyes hit him with agonizing intensity.

"You..." Yan Xuanye whispered against the glass, his amber eyes burning. "What are you doing here?"

Down on the stage, completely unaware of the demonic Lord having an epiphany on the balcony, Ji’an was busy executing an act of sabotage.

Before taking her position opposite Su Liuyun, Ji’an had casually strolled over to the orchestra pit.

"Change of plans, boys," Ji’an had whispered to the lead musician, dropping a heavy pouch of high-grade spirit stones onto his lap. "You are not playing the Crimson Lotus Entanglement. You are going to play the Lament of the Ashen Swallow. And you are going to play it at exactly double the standard tempo. If you drop the beat, I will personally ensure your lutes are repurposed as firewood."

The musicians had blanched.

The Lament of the Ashen Swallow was an ancient, incredibly complex, brutally fast-paced tragedy. It was famously impossible to dance to, characterized by erratic time signatures and a haunting, weeping melody.

Ji’an marched to the center of the stage, locking eyes with Su Liuyun.

"I told you," Ji’an smirked, a wicked, terrifying light in her eyes. "I am going to run you ragged."

The music erupted.

It wasn’t a seductive, throbbing drumbeat.

It was a frantic, weeping, lightning-fast cascade of guqin strings and piercing flutes.

Su Liuyun’s foxy smile faltered for a fraction of a second, completely thrown off by the erratic tempo.

But he was a professional.

He recovered instantly, launching himself forward, attempting to initiate the "pursuit" phase of the choreography, reaching out to grasp Ji’an’s waist and pull her flush against his chest.

Ji’an didn’t just dodge.

She utilized the flawless, hyper-efficient footwork of a Chef dodging a spilled pot of boiling oil on a slippery tile floor.

She pivoted on her heel, dropping her center of gravity, and smoothly glided three inches out of Liuyun’s grasp.

The vocalist’s voice, magically amplified, echoed hauntingly through the cavernous atrium:

"A thousand years of frost upon the plum blossom,

I painted my soul with the ash of your memory..."

Liuyun frowned, pivoting sharply, his heavy fuchsia robes sweeping the obsidian floor as he lunged again, this time trying to trap her arm and spin her into his chest.

Ji’an anticipated the vector.

She treated his arm like a poorly positioned sous-chef in a cramped kitchen. She ducked under his extended arm, executed a flawless martial arts sweep that forced Liuyun to jump to avoid losing his balance, and popped up directly behind him.

"If the Heavens demand the severing of our red thread,

I shall drag the stars into the underworld to find you..."

The crowd was absolutely spellbound.

This was not a sensual, writhing dance of submission.

This was a high-speed, breathtakingly aggressive martial arts spar disguised as choreography.

Ji’an was completely dominating the rhythm. She wasn’t dancing to the music; she was making Liuyun dance to her survival instincts.

Every time Liuyun tried to implement a sensual touch, a hand on her hip, a brush against her cheek, Ji’an countered with a turn, making the intimate gesture into a deflection, spinning away, and forcing him to chase her across the massive stage.

Liuyun was sweating.

The Top Courtesan, who normally commanded the stage with effortless, lazy grace, was currently fighting for his life just to keep up with the silver-haired demon’s footwork.

His breathing grew heavy.