That evening, the gates of Kwok Manor were flung wide open. The mighty George Kwok and the renowned heroine Helen Wong had been waiting at the entrance since early morning, flanked by every single servant and junior member—no one missing, all lined up outside. Two full rows stretched from left to right, scaring off every passerby on the street. Even Kevin Kee, the Beggars' Guild chief, could only stand quietly at George Kwok’s right hand, meek and well-behaved like a child. The rest of the juniors could only sulk in the second row, without a chance to show their faces. Such a grand display was enough to leave anyone utterly stunned.
Look at George Kwok’s face—there’s a hint of eager anticipation, a barely concealed excitement. Clearly, whoever they’re waiting for is someone he takes very seriously.
Just who in the world could possibly deserve such a grand reception from George Kwok and Helen Wong?
Tom Seven would certainly warrant this treatment, but he’s been gone for years. Old Heretic Helen might count too, but East Lust is always as elusive as a dragon—never revealing his itinerary, impossible to catch for a formal welcome. Besides, Kevin Kee, as the Guild chief, isn’t here for private affairs. Judging by the spectacle, this is clearly a very official, high-level meeting.
But seriously, who in the world could possibly deserve such a welcome from George Kwok?
“Sis, who exactly is this VIP you’re introducing?” Paul Kwok stood in the junior lineup, looking as clueless as a goose. This honest, simple guy was the spitting image of his dad in his younger days—kind-hearted but not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. He and Grace Kwok are twins and have always been close. Now, he tugged at Grace’s sleeve and whispered, “Dad’s treating this so seriously, so it must be someone really important, right?”
“That’s my lifesaver, so even if she had no status, she’d still be an honored guest!” Grace Kwok first scolded her brother, then added with a hint of surprise, “But I really don’t know what’s so special about their background. I just told Dad they’re from the Freewind Sect, and he immediately got all worked up, even scolded me for not mentioning it sooner. I guess our Kwok Family must have some history with the Freewind Sect?”
Truth is, she had no clue what kind of connection the Freewind Sect had with the Kwok Family. That sect had been holed up for over two hundred years—practically outside the scope of regular martial arts knowledge. All she knew was that they were based out west, their sisters were all top-tier fighters, and both the sect leader and the young master were seriously impressive. Beyond that, she knew nothing.
But now, it seemed the Freewind Sect was even bigger deal than she’d imagined.
“Look, they’re here!” In no time, a group of about ten riders sped down the main street of Xiangyang. The horses were top-notch, the legendary blood-sweating steeds that most horse experts only knew from stories. And the people? All beauties. Every single one was dressed in flowing robes, sporting sky-high looks—like a squad of goddesses who’d just descended from heaven. These women had an air of both the ethereal and the heroic, so dazzling that just one glance could win your heart.
Yet for all the dazzling beauty in this group, there was no confusion—everyone could immediately spot the core figures from a distance.
Two stunning women rode at the front, side by side. The petite one—no need to guess—was someone Grace Kwok knew well: Wu Zhengfeng, the Freewind Sect’s leader and mistress of Spirit Eagle Palace, often called "Maggie Monroe" by Sister Yvonne. Today, Wu Zhengfeng wore dark silk, her youthful face solemn and dignified, her gemstone eyes sparkling. She looked young, but the way she glanced around radiated authority, making it impossible to underestimate her.
Wu Zhengfeng’s demeanor was pretty much what Grace Kwok expected. In her experience, the Tianshan Mistress was always half-friendly, half-imposing; today’s vibe was nothing new.
But what really left Grace Kwok speechless was the woman riding next to Maggie Monroe.
This beauty had long, straight black hair styled in an elegant, understated way—no gold pins or jade combs, just simple braids that made her look even more naturally outstanding. Her flowing white gown was perfectly tailored, showing off her tall, graceful figure. Every move she made was calm and measured, exuding poise and confidence.
And her face—no makeup, just bare skin, but her eyes, nose, mouth, and brows came together to form a full, radiant, unforgettable look.
Some so-called beauties might look pretty, but with sharp chins and monkey cheeks, there’s no real nobility. Even draped in jewels and the finest makeup, something always feels off. Post a photo online, and she’d be pegged as a wannabe influencer. But the woman on the black horse was nothing like that—one look from her vast, luminous eyes felt like your soul was basking in sunlight.
Okay, maybe describing someone’s gaze as ‘vast and luminous’ is a bit weird, but when Grace Kwok looked around, everyone seemed to feel the same way. Her brother Paul Kwok was already slack-jawed, totally stunned. The beauty herself wore a perfect smile—gentle, friendly, transcendent, and free-spirited, all rolled into one.
Just seeing her from afar was like glimpsing a snow lotus blooming atop the majestic Tianshan Mountains, sunlight sparkling off the snow. She was more regal than gold and jade, more ethereal than royal blood—among thousands, she’d be the first anyone noticed.
“Wow…” Paul Kwok’s face was pure amazement, his eyes wide like a nerd seeing Athena for the first time. Completely enchanted, he blurted out, “She just outshined both my big sisters…”
“What did you just say?!” Phoebe Kwok’s brows shot up, ready to explode. But as she glanced at the approaching horsewoman, the sense of nobility only grew—like a tsunami, it swept over everyone. She felt a pang of envy, but had to admit, compared to this newcomer, she really did feel a bit outclassed.
Looking around, Yvonne Kee and Pamela Wanyan—both gorgeous girls—wore the same self-conscious expressions. But Phoebe Kwok, stubborn as ever, insisted, “Hmph, she’s just putting on airs. I can do that too! So, who is she exactly—Yang Qi?”
“Huh? Uh…” Grace Kwok was still in shock from Phoebe’s question and could only stammer, “Maybe… I’m not sure…”
Seriously, who is that radiant beauty up ahead? My own Sister Yvonne is dazzling too, but she’s definitely not this type! The big sister who could laugh out loud and smack me on the shoulder—no way she’d turn into this! This is just too weird!
“Hero Kwok, Lady Wong, Chief Kee, brothers and sisters, thank you for your warm welcome. I’m truly honored.” The beauty dismounted gracefully from afar, her white gown fluttering as she approached, showing off the Freewind Step’s effortless style. George Kwok and Helen Wong hurried to greet her, exchanging pleasantries and proper bows. The beauty remained calm and flawless throughout, her etiquette impeccable.
“Little Grace.” After greeting everyone, the beauty finally reached Grace Kwok, flashing a smile like clear skies and drifting clouds—so bright it nearly knocked Paul Kwok off his feet.
“Uh…” Grace Kwok stared up at the beauty, totally stunned—she had no idea what kind of face to make.
Alright, time to rewind and explain how we got here.
Ever since Maggie Monroe came up with that idea, everyone thought it was brilliant. As long as Jill Young was willing to go all out, the results would be spectacular. But then came the real question—how do you even pretend to be a proper lady? Or, more importantly, what exactly is a ‘proper lady’ supposed to be?
Jill Young, with twenty-six years of street smarts and zero socialite experience, had no clue. So, she asked the girls for advice.
“Ice, what’s a ‘proper lady’ supposed to be like?”
“Boss,” Ice replied innocently, “I grew up poor, so I have no clue what a proper lady looks like. But I guess she’s the type who’s good at music, chess, calligraphy, and embroidery?”
“That’s not a proper lady, that’s a textile worker with a few extra skills. Lotus, what do you think a proper lady is?”
“No idea,” Lotus let her imagination run wild. “A proper lady must be some rich girl raised in a fancy house, right? The kind who never touches spring water, never steps outside—just a pampered princess.”
“That’s not a proper lady, that’s a shut-in couch potato. Maggie Monroe, you’re my last hope—what’s your take?”
“You ask me, who am I supposed to ask? Before I went up the mountain, I was just a little beggar chief—barely had enough to eat, let alone know about proper ladies.” After a round of blank stares, it was clear none of the girls had a clue. But Maggie Monroe was the most reliable: “Honestly, don’t get hung up on the ‘proper lady’ definition. Just act dignified, classy, and calm—make it different from your usual self, and nobody will recognize you as Jade Hawk Johnson.”
“Dignified, classy, calm…” Jill Young stroked her chin, nodding as if she’d had a revelation.
Right, even if nobody knew what a proper lady was, when it came to dignity, class, and calm, there were a few good examples.
For dignity, the goddess mode of Dumb Bunny was perfect—back at that singles party when she saved the day, her dazzling aura was a textbook example worth copying.
And for class, thinking back, even Blockhead Xi’s public persona had a certain regal air—ugh, just mentioning that queen makes me mad. Big Log is such a doofus; he got totally bewitched by a single glimpse of her. Men are hopeless. Still, you can learn from anyone, even your rivals.
And since we’re talking about Big Log, there’s something I have to say.
Old Man Yang and Queen Su—one a scholar, one a doctor—were both old-school college grads. Back when a degree was worth its weight in gold, the Yang family was basically a scholarly household. Growing up in that environment, Jill Young had great manners. With her natural temperament and later life experience, once she broke through her inner demons, she was the picture of poise.
Imitating Old Man Yang is a piece of cake.
So, with the dignity of Dumb Bunny, the class of Blockhead Xi, and the poise of the Fool all gathered together—mix them up, hit the synth button, and bam! Dazzling light explodes, and congrats, Jill Young, you’ve unlocked the purple-tier bound item: The Proper Lady’s Masquerade!
“No one can recognize me, huh.” Jill Young looked at the enthusiastic George Kwok and Helen Wong across the way, feeling pretty satisfied with her disguise—nobody suspected she was actually Jade Hawk Johnson.
Hmph, when I put my mind to it, I can totally pull this off. Time to show off in front of some old friends! She walked up to Grace Kwok, struggling to maintain her perfect smile, and greeted her, “Little Grace.”
“Uh…” Grace Kwok looked thunderstruck, staring in awe for a long moment before finally mumbling, “Sis, who are you?”
Not only did she not recognize me as Jade Hawk Johnson, she didn’t even realize I was Jill Young! Wow, this masquerade is way too OP. Seriously, what kind of impression do I usually give people?