The sun dipped low on the horizon of the small world, painting the skies in a cascade of gold and crimson. Lin Xueya stood before the crystalline lake, her reflection clearer than any mirror she had ever known. What looked back at her was no longer the weary woman abandoned by her former world, but a dazzling figure wrapped in ethereal radiance.
Her long hair shimmered like black silk, her eyes sparkled with faint glimmers of starlight, and her once pale skin now carried the luminous sheen of jade warmed by sunlight. Even the three clones beside her couldn't help but gape.
The seductress clone sighed dramatically, hand on her cheek.
"Master, you've crossed the line. If you show up at that banquet like this, half the men will be begging at your feet and half the women will try to stab you out of jealousy."
The scout clone gave a sly grin. "And the other half? They'll be fighting over who gets to build a shrine in your honor."
Xueya rolled her eyes. "I asked you to help me prepare, not feed me nonsense."
The warrior clone, as stoic as ever, finally spoke. "Nonsense or not, it is true. Your beauty is becoming… weaponized."
Xueya's lips tightened. She didn't want to rely on beauty alone—but she wasn't blind either. In this world of cultivation, beauty could kill just as surely as swords and poison.
---
"Alright," she said. "I need an outfit that makes me look untouchable. Not too seductive, not too humble. Something that says: 'I am above you all.'"
The seductress clone's eyes gleamed with mischief. With a snap of her fingers, a robe materialized—a flowing gown of silver threads that clung and yet floated, revealing the curve of Xueya's waist while hiding just enough to spark imagination.
Xueya's jaw dropped. "This is exactly what I said not to make!"
"Come now," the clone purred. "You don't have to seduce them, but intimidating them with unattainable allure? That's the same thing, only cleverer."
The scout clone leaned in with a whistle. "If you walk in like that, I guarantee someone will choke on their wine."
Xueya slapped her forehead. "You're hopeless." But despite her protests, she allowed the gown to wrap around her. The moment it did, the robe fused with her aura, shimmering faintly like moonlight. Her presence shifted instantly—less like a grieving widow, more like an empress descending from the heavens.
Even she was taken aback. This system… it really wants me to stand out, doesn't it?
---
Three days later, the grand hall of the Yue Clan was ablaze with lanterns. Guests filled the space, laughter mingling with whispers. On the surface, it was a banquet of mourning, a show of respect for her late husband. But the undertone was sharp as blades.
When Lin Xueya entered, silence fell.
Every eye turned toward her, and in that silence, the weight of her presence settled. Her gown shimmered like a veil of stars, and her beauty—enhanced by spiritual energy—made even seasoned cultivators falter. Some men spilled their cups; a few women's smiles froze like cracked porcelain.
Xueya walked calmly, every step measured, as though she owned the hall. Inside, her system pulsed softly, reassuring her that no poison or formation could penetrate her small world's protection.
From the corner of her eye, she saw her scout clone—disguised as a mere servant—slip between shadows, listening. The warrior clone lingered at the door, silent sentinel.
The seductress clone, to Xueya's horror, had disguised herself as a female musician and was strumming a guqin with eyes locked onto her master like a lovesick poet. The ridiculous performance made Xueya want to laugh and scream at once, but she maintained her calm mask.
---
The banquet soon devolved into the expected dance of words.
"Young Lady Lin, such resilience you show," said an elder with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Another man added, "A widow as refined as yourself should not suffer loneliness. Our clan would gladly offer… companionship."
Xueya sipped her tea slowly, letting the silence stretch until their words felt foolish.
"I thank you for your concern," she said smoothly, "but solitude has its own comforts. Especially when compared to the noise of unwanted mouths."
Gasps rippled through the hall. The elder's smile froze, and the scout clone nearly snorted aloud from his hiding place.
But beneath the laughter and chatter, Xueya felt it: killing intent disguised too well. Eyes lingered too long, movements too deliberate. This was no banquet of condolence. It was a battlefield where her survival would be tested with daggers hidden behind toasts.
---
Through telepathic link, the scout clone whispered:
"Master, I've overheard the truth. This banquet was arranged under the Yue Clan's name, but the true hand belongs to the Shadow Thousand Sect. They want to gauge your strength… or eliminate you quietly."
Xueya's grip on her teacup tightened.
So it begins…
She set the cup down with a soft clink. A serene smile spread across her lips, but her eyes turned cold as ice.
If they wanted to test her, she would let them. And when their blades finally came out of hiding, they would learn that the widow they sought to devour… was no prey, but a hunter cloaked in beauty.
---
The banquet hall was filled with golden light, flickering from lanterns carved with immortal beasts. Silken curtains draped from the ceiling, and jade tables overflowed with food and wine. At first glance, it looked like a gathering of harmony and prosperity. Yet beneath the laughter, Lin Xueya could feel the weight of countless gazes, each one calculating, each one sharp.
Her entrance silenced the hall for a breath.
She wore a flowing gown of pale azure silk, shimmering faintly as if clouds themselves had embraced her figure. Her beauty, refined by the strange vitality of the small world she now possessed, was dazzling, serene, and untouchable. Every eye turned, whether with admiration, envy, or lust. Even the sect leaders seated at the front could not hide the flicker of desire or wariness in their eyes.
The clone beside her, disguised as a young male attendant, leaned closer in telepathic whisper:
> "Master, ten men are already drooling. If they don't wipe their mouths soon, the floor will be slippery."
Xueya's lips twitched, suppressing a laugh. She maintained her serene expression, like a moon goddess untouched by mortal dust.
---
The banquet host, a smiling elder of Clear Wind Sect, rose and cupped his hands.
"Fellow cultivator Lin Xueya, your presence truly honors us. Please, take the seat of honor."
She inclined her head politely and took her place, the clone standing silently behind her. Food was served, musicians played zithers, and dancers moved gracefully. On the surface, everything was peaceful. But Xueya's senses told her otherwise.
She felt the brush of whispered voices, like venomous snakes in the grass.
> "That's the widow of Chen Jian… barely three weeks married before his death…"
"They say she carries his child. If so, controlling her would mean inheriting whatever legacy he left behind."
"Don't forget, her beauty alone is worth an alliance. With her in our sect, disciples would bleed themselves dry just for a smile."
Xueya kept her gaze lowered, sipping wine without expression. Yet inwardly, her anger simmered. These people saw her as a pawn—no, worse, as a prize to be traded.
---
A cultivator from Iron Spear Sect suddenly rose, his face bold with drunkenness.
"Fairy Lin! Such loneliness ill suits your divine beauty. Our sect master has always admired you. If you join our sect as his Dao Companion, you will never suffer again. Wealth, power, protection—all yours!"
The hall grew tense. Some laughed politely, others watched intently.
The clone sent her another whisper:
> "Should I break his spear? Or just break his teeth?"
Xueya almost choked on her wine. She waved her hand subtly, signaling patience. Then she spoke softly, her voice clear and cool as flowing water:
"I thank Iron Spear Sect for their… generosity. But my late husband's spirit has barely departed. Would it not be disrespectful to speak of remarriage so soon?"
The room fell silent for a beat. A few nodded in agreement, others frowned, calculating new strategies.
---
As the evening wore on, the masks of civility began to crack. Xueya noticed the smallest movements—sect leaders exchanging glances, whispered messages passed by servants, subtle probing questions about her late husband.
One elder leaned closer, his voice oily:
"Fairy Lin, forgive my boldness… but did your late husband perhaps leave you something? A map, a token, a legacy? If so, you must not bear such burdens alone. Our sect would gladly help you carry them."
Xueya smiled faintly.
"My husband left me many things. Memories, kindness, and grief. That is all I wish to carry tonight."
Her answer drew laughter, but behind that laughter she saw narrowed eyes.
---
The clone's telepathic voice came again, this time sharper:
> "Master, I've scanned the side chamber. Several envoys are speaking of your husband's death. It was no accident—they knew he guarded something precious. They believe you inherited it."
Xueya's fingers tightened on her cup. She had suspected as much, but hearing confirmation ignited a fire in her chest.
> "Who?" she asked silently.
The clone paused.
> "A coalition. At least three sects. And one phrase keeps repeating—'Shadow Sect.'"
Xueya's blood chilled. The name was unfamiliar, yet ominous. Her intuition whispered of daggers in the dark, and of storms yet to come.
---
The banquet dragged on with false laughter and hollow toasts. Xueya played the part of serene widow, offering polite smiles, while her mind worked furiously. She could not reveal weakness, nor could she lash out too soon. For now, every word, every gesture, was part of survival.
At last, when the music ended and the final toast was raised, she excused herself gracefully.
The clone followed, whispering as they stepped into the moonlit courtyard:
> "So… how many wanted to own you tonight? Ten? Twenty? Should I start keeping score?"
Xueya snorted softly, her calm mask finally breaking into a small smile.
"Keep score if you like. Just be ready when those whispers turn into knives."
Above them, the night sky stretched vast and silent. Yet in the silence, Xueya knew the murmurs of conspiracy had only just begun.
---