Chapter 30: Are You Satisfied Now?

“Miss Wang, what a coincidence. We meet again.”
A young man in white, with a face as radiant as jade, held a folding fan and looked ingratiatingly at a woman whose skin was smooth as cream, her beauty ethereal and unmatched.
She was none other than Wang Yuyan, the unrivaled beauty of the Heavenly Dragon.
And the man—he was the ever-devoted Duan Yu.
Yet Wang Yuyan’s gaze was filled with worry as she looked to the side, her eyes fixed on a man dressed in pale yellow, handsome and elegant.
Her heart and soul belonged entirely to him; she paid no mind to the sycophant at her side.
This man was the famed Murong Fu of Gusu.
His name was a single character: Fu.
Murong Fu was indeed a ruthless man; even with a peerless beauty at his side, he failed to cherish her.
Was it, perhaps, that a heart without women wields a blade with divine skill?
At that moment, Murong Fu’s eyes were locked onto the stone wall before him, his brow furrowed, his gaze clouded with confusion and inner turmoil. He stood motionless, as if bewitched.
Upon the stone wall was a massive chessboard, filled with countless black and white pieces locked in fierce battle.
This was the source of Murong Fu’s confusion.
Beneath the stone wall sat an old man with an exceptionally ugly face.
It was Murong Fu’s turn to play, but the chaos and struggle in his eyes persisted.
No one knew how long it lasted; at last, Murong Fu could endure no more. He clutched his head in pain.
Only when he tore his gaze from the chessboard did he gradually regain his composure.
Wang Yuyan, seeing this, anxiously comforted him, “Cousin, are you alright?”
Murong Fu not only failed to solve the Chess of Zhenlong, but had also lost his composure before everyone—his dignity shattered.
His face was as dark as storm clouds, ready to erupt.
To Murong Fu, Wang Yuyan’s concern was merely pity for the weak; how could he respond kindly?
“I’m fine. You needn’t worry.”
Duan Yu, the foremost devotee, could not bear to see his goddess slighted and would not let the matter rest.
“Sir Murong, Miss Wang cares for you, yet you treat her so coldly. It’s hardly the conduct of a gentleman.”
Murong Fu had failed to solve the Chess of Zhenlong, missed the chance to inherit the teachings of the Carefree Sect, and his grand ambition to restore Yan remained distant.
And this Duan Yu continued to pester him relentlessly.
If not for Duan Yu’s status, Murong Fu would have slain him long ago.
Ignoring Murong Fu’s murderous glare, Duan Yu insisted on seeking justice for his fairy sister, “Sir Murong, you owe Miss Wang an apology!”
Murderous intent flashed even brighter in Murong Fu’s eyes. If things escalated before so many witnesses, the reputation of Gusu Murong would be ruined in his hands.

He drew a deep breath, suppressing his rage, his expression softening as he looked toward Wang Yuyan and spoke apologetically, “Cousin, I’m sorry. My attitude just now was uncalled for.”
Wang Yuyan, ever the proper lady, gently shook her head. “It’s alright, cousin.”
Her voice was soft and tingling, like a current coursing through the body, striking the heart.
Since the Chess of Zhenlong could not be solved, lingering here was pointless. He prepared to take Wang Yuyan and leave.
Just then, Duan Yu spoke to Wang Yuyan, “Miss Wang, please wait. Might I try my hand at the puzzle?”
“If I am fortunate enough to solve it, perhaps I can help Sir Murong.”
Murong Fu, about to depart, paused when he heard this.
Wang Yuyan was moved; she had attempted the Chess of Zhenlong herself but lacked the skill to unravel it.
Not being able to help her cousin left her deeply remorseful.
“Then I’ll trouble you, Sir Duan.”
“No trouble at all,” Duan Yu replied, waving his hands, his face flushing visibly as he stammered, “I have an unreasonable request, and hope Miss Wang might agree.”
“Please speak, sir.”
Wang Yuyan looked at Duan Yu, a hint of doubt in her eyes.
“I wish to accompany Miss Wang and travel with you both.”
His words caused a stir in the crowd.
The gazes directed at Duan Yu grew amused.
Crane in the Clouds could not help but cover his face—today, he truly witnessed the absurd.
A sycophant, a sycophant, and in the end, nothing remains.
Duan Yu, the center of attention, ignored the crowd and fixed his gaze on Wang Yuyan, full of anticipation and apprehension.
He hoped for acceptance, yet feared rejection.
Wang Yuyan was at a loss for words, and the scene fell into awkward silence.
“Sir Duan, perhaps you should solve the puzzle before making any requests,” Murong Fu mocked.
Even he could not solve the chessboard; Duan Yu, the simpleton, was even less likely.
He waited to watch Duan Yu make a fool of himself, venting his frustration.
Still, Murong Fu had eased Wang Yuyan’s embarrassment.
Duan Yu realized his indiscretion, gave Wang Yuyan an apologetic smile, and turned his attention to the chessboard.
Though versed in chess, Zhenlong was a puzzle beyond ordinary logic.
After a few moves, he quickly fell into a losing position. Defeat was only a matter of time.

Duan Yu understood this, and, disappointed, bowed to Su Xinghe before returning to Miss Wang’s side.
“Sorry, Miss Wang.”
Wang Yuyan smiled gently, saying nothing more.
Her grace only deepened Duan Yu’s shame.
Crane in the Clouds observed the chessboard before him, confident he could solve the Chess of Zhenlong.
Yet he did not immediately make a move. Instead, he looked toward the old man seated below the stone wall and said, “I am Crane in the Clouds. Greetings, Elder Su.”
Su Xinghe glanced at Crane in the Clouds; he had heard the name, but it mattered little—anyone could attempt the Chess of Zhenlong.
“Please make your move,” Su Xinghe said.
Faced with Su Xinghe’s invitation, Crane in the Clouds shook his head slowly. “There’s no rush. I have a gift for our first meeting.”
“If you will not play, then please leave.”
The onlookers echoed his words, “If you won’t play, go stand aside—don’t waste our time.”
Crane in the Clouds cast a cold glance at the speaker, his aura radiating power.
A vast pressure swept over him like the sea, overwhelming and oppressive.
Sensing Crane in the Clouds’ unfathomable strength, the man dared not utter another word.
Su Xinghe’s expression darkened at the scene.
This matter concerned the legacy of the Carefree Sect; there could be no disorder here.
“Be calm, elder,” Crane in the Clouds replied. “I do not mean to cause trouble. The gift I offer, you will surely appreciate.”
With that, he turned to the crowd and nodded toward Azhi.
Azhi understood and dragged Ding Chunqiu into view.
Ding Chunqiu was in a wretched state, hair disheveled, filthy as a beggar on the street.
Even so, many recognized him.
Curious eyes fell upon him.
Who had reduced Ding Chunqiu to such misery?
Crane in the Clouds looked at Su Xinghe and smiled, “Is this gift to your satisfaction, elder?”