Chapter 9: Just Who In the World Is She?
At the same time, in the next room on the fifth floor of the Drunken Cloud, there were a group of people from Beiming.
The two men sat at the table were dressed in elegant black robes with distinctive embroidery of large lotus’.
The younger person looked around fourteen or fifteen years of age. His facial features were dainty and he carried a particular charm about him. The smiling young man seemed like a cheerful person.
The other man looked like he was about twenty-two or twenty-three of age and extraordinarily majestic. He had an overbearing and assertive air about him which exuded an imposing sense of prestige of someone with high stature.
Kneeled before the two men was a person dressed in black.
“Speak,” said Han Moze, the elder of the two, in a deep voice. Then, he swept a glance at the subordinate on the floor.
Although he merely said one word, it wasn’t difficult to make out the strong magnetism and the clarity of flowing spring water from broken ice in his voice. He had a voice which made listeners subconsciously feel his every word with their very soul.
Kneeled on the floor, the subordinate’s entire body trembled under the weight of his mighty aura.
Then, with a subtle exhale, he politely reported, “I’ve investigated the Third Young Miss and discovered that she often comes and goes to places with connections to the Blood Feast. Behind the scenes, she must have some kind of relationship with someone powerful. Additionally, the Third Young Miss’ reputation of being an idiot first originated from a competition held in the Capital. She received last place, but on top of that, someone deliberately made this news public as to make her the talk of the the Capital.”
Han Moxi noticed the cold and disinterested expression on Han Moze’s face, then lowered his eyes and smiled softly at the subordinate dressed in black.
“So have you investigated her relationship with the Blood Feast?” He asked with a melodic and captivating voice.
“I cannot be sure, but I discovered the Third Young Miss’ qinggong is a unique form to the Blood Feast. It makes her as light as a swallow and it makes her look as if she’s dancing. Ordinary people would actually assume she was dancing, but people of Jianghu1 know that it’s the Blood Feast’s Eighteen Spins of the Cloud Swallow.”
The chill in Han Moze’s eyes suddenly became lifeless, as he questioned, “This woman is incredibly good at hiding her true self. Normal people can’t simply enter Blood Feast territory. Just who in the world is she?”
“Royal brother, are you sure you want that kind of woman?” Asked Han Moxi, as he smiled softly at Han Moze.
Han Moze shot a glance at the man dressed in black and flatly said, “Leave.”
“Yes,” he respectfully replied, before he turned and stepped out.
There was a deeply serene glint in Han Moze’s eyes. “Perhaps she can’t be wed,” he said calmly with cold, squinted eyes.
“The Emperor of Nanli sure is something! They hear that you have a bad reputation, so they get a fool to stand-in for the marriage,” said Han Moxi in dissatisfaction.
With an unconcerned look on his face, Han Moxi was merely a little curious about this Third Young Miss of the minister’s manor. How did she know the martial arts of the Blood Feast?
“Perhaps she isn’t a fool and she’s just hiding her true strength. Sometimes, this can protect oneself,” he said flatly, as the glint in his eyes shifted.
Han Moxi thought about it for a moment and perhaps that really was the case. “We’ll know when we see her at tonight’s imperial banquet,” he chuckled.
Han Moze thought about the several women of the Beiming imperial harem. “Aren’t generic women the best?” He asked with a deep voice.
Han Moxi smiled with squinted eyes and replied, “Perhaps, those noble ladies of Nanli will want to marry you when they see just how handsome you look. That way, my royal brother, you may personally choose one of extraordinary character.”
Han Moze shook his head and smiled silently. Till this day, he has never met a woman he liked. If he should meet her one day, he would definitely do well to treasure her.
Han Moxi noticed the helpless expression on Han Moze’s face and laughed. “I wonder, what kind of woman do you want, my royal brother?”
Han Moze smiled, as he raised his eyebrow. “Someone cool, elegant, and classy,” he replied with a flat tone of voice.
Han Moxi let out a soft sigh. “There mustn’t be a single woman in the world who can keep their cool, elegance, and class when they meet you.”
Han Moze smirked and declined to comment.
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