Calligraphy is something that's hard to judge objectively. Different people prefer different scripts and styles, so letting a single person decide the winner would be unfair. That's why seven judges were appointed for the calligraphy contest.
Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan Arden, Prince Terrence Valen of Lyndaria, Old Master Yan, Master Marcus Wynn, and three renowned calligraphers from Jixia Academy make up the panel.
Serena Feng didn’t know the identities of the three Jixia Academy judges, nor their preferred script styles. She only knew they were authorities, recognized by both Eastlyn and Southlyn as impartial.
In fact, Serena thought they were overthinking it. Calligraphy is indeed hard to judge, but only if the two contestants are close in skill. She and Wendy Summers are worlds apart—she couldn’t believe neither Wendy nor Prince Damien of Southlyn realized it.
Although few have seen Serena’s calligraphy, anyone who’s seen her writing with charcoal should know her script isn’t impressive.
The sedan chair stopped outside the Royal Academy. As Serena stepped out, the crowd gathered to watch the spectacle began to shout, “Serena Feng! It’s Serena Feng!”
“Serena Feng, it really is Serena Feng. She doesn’t look worried at all about today’s contest. No wonder she’s Eastlyn’s noble lady. I thought she’d only win the medicine and riding rounds, but she beat Wendy Summers in the first event and drew in chess.”
“Serena Feng, go for it! We’re rooting for you—you have to beat Wendy Summers from Southlyn. We bet on you to win five rounds!” Five out of eight rounds would mean Serena just edges out Wendy.
Of course, while some hope Serena wins, more people are betting on her to lose. After all, most wagers are on Wendy Summers.
The spectators aren’t concerned about Serena’s win or loss—they only care about their own bets.
In just a few days, bets on Serena Feng and Wendy Summers have soared to nearly a hundred million taels of silver. If the right bets win, nearly fifty million will be paid out—enough to drive people mad.
Thinking about the ever-growing gambling pool, Serena couldn’t help but feel excited. Her promised cut was small—previously half a percent, but with so many participants, she’d be lucky to get one percent. Still, even that would set her up for life.
To make real money, you can’t play by the rules. Most of the onlookers are essentially providing her capital. Serena smiled more warmly at them, nodding politely: “I’ll do my best not to let you down…”—though she knew it was impossible. She smiled slyly, her beautiful eyes narrowing like a fox.
Gambling is designed so most lose and few win. Serena couldn’t make everyone a winner; only the house and a handful of lucky people come out ahead.
“Good, good, good, Miss Serena—we’re counting on you.” Serena was friendly and polite, but that wasn’t why the crowd supported her. It was all about the gambling. For them, Serena’s win or loss meant money. Who would turn down a chance at profit?
Wendy Summers arrived a moment after Serena. As Serena was about to enter, Wendy stepped down from her sedan, calm and unhurried. Though she’d lost one round and another was undecided, Wendy hid any disappointment.
Seeing Serena’s outfit, Wendy smiled with confidence and dignity, moving gracefully and looking stunning.
Coincidentally, Wendy also wore orange today, but her clothes were more luxurious and formal than Serena’s, and her jewelry was extremely valuable.
Though still a maiden, Wendy exuded a faintly matronly noble grandeur. Compared to her, Serena’s outfit seemed plain—luckily, they didn’t stand side by side.
Actually, even if they stood together, Serena wouldn’t mind. Though they wore the same color, each had her own style.
Wendy was dignified and noble; Serena was elegant and vivid. Each had her own beauty. Compared to Wendy’s opulence, Serena looked a bit shabby, but she didn’t plan to compete on that front.
Serena didn’t care to compete, but Wendy wouldn’t pass up a chance to overshadow her. As Wendy sat down, she deliberately adjusted her ruby-inlaid hair ornament, threw Serena a provocative glance, and casually exposed an all-green jade bracelet.
The judges hadn’t arrived yet, but Wendy wasn’t worried her showy pride would leave a bad impression.
Serena simply smiled, unconcerned. Dressing well and appropriately didn’t mean she’d compete over clothes and jewelry. It wasn’t about pride or superficiality—it was simply not a contest she could win.
She was a woman, of course she liked beautiful clothes and jewelry, but she knew she couldn’t match Wendy in that regard.
Never mind that the Summers clan was wealthier—just their century of accumulation meant they had jewelry Serena could never afford or even find.
In any era, the finest jewels and jade are always in the hands of the powerful. The best pieces are passed down through generations, never sold off. Even if they were, they wouldn’t be sold to you. The privileged have first pick; Serena would never get her hands on those treasures.
That’s the difference between the nouveau riche and true nobility. The former can only buy the best available on the market, while the latter’s pieces aren’t just famous—they’re masterpieces, rich in history and understated luxury.
While jewelry and clothes aren’t always better just because they’re expensive, you have to admit—fine gems make for prettier pieces than cheap ones, just as diamonds outshine imitations.
The fabric of a dress determines its quality. The same design, made with different materials, can vary hugely in price and effect. Knockoffs never match the originals. Put them side by side and the difference is obvious.
Serena understood these truths long ago. Of course she felt some envy—she wasn’t a saint above all desire. No woman is indifferent to jewels and beautiful clothes, and she was no exception.
But jealousy? Not really. If she could have the best, great; if not, she wouldn’t force it. First you need food, comfort, and safety—only then can you chase higher pleasures.
She cared about clothes, but wasn’t obsessive. For formal occasions, dressing well was about respect—for the host and herself. People are social creatures; living entirely in your own world just isn’t possible.
She put some thought into her outfits, making sure she looked decent and left a good impression, but she didn’t obsess over it—she was busy.
That show-stopping dress on the first day wasn’t even her own preparation. Such a gown can’t be replicated or worn every day. She’d been rotating ordinary outfits to avoid repeating it. She hadn’t expected Wendy to compete over appearance, even choosing the same color just to overshadow her. Serena couldn’t imagine what Wendy was thinking…