The next day, the weather was perfect—clear skies and bright sun. People flocked to the Ancestral Temple to catch a glimpse of the National Preceptor, crowding every street nearby. Those who arrived late couldn't even find a place to stand.
The best spots in the tea-houses and inns lining the street had long been reserved by the privileged and wealthy, all hoping their families could see the National Preceptor and Eastlyn’s Regent Prince up close.
When Serena and Prince Nolan finally left their residence, it was already late. By the time they arrived, the area outside the Ancestral Temple was packed so tightly with people that there was nowhere to step.
Fortunately, the authorities had sent soldiers ahead to clear a path, leaving a special route open for the Emperor and the nobility. As members of the privileged class, they never had to worry about being squeezed out by the crowds.
“There sure are a lot of people who love a spectacle. It’s only been a day, and if this went on longer, I bet people from all around the Capital would come.” Serena was genuinely amazed—no matter the era, it seemed that people’s love for excitement never changed.
“The Ancestral Temple is almost never open to the public, so it’s perfectly normal for Westlyn’s citizens to be curious about the National Preceptor.” After all, who wouldn’t want to know their fate? A single word from the National Preceptor could benefit someone for a lifetime, so of course the people of Westlyn would crowd in to witness it.
Everyone thought they were special—maybe the National Preceptor would favor them, and they’d soar to success overnight.
“I thought they were here to see you,” Serena teased, pointing at the young maids and ladies peeking out from the tea-house and inn windows lining the street.
Most of them probably knew Prince Nolan would be here and came just to see him. His reputation as a perfect man was so widespread that even the Crown Princess knew of it—these girls certainly did too.
If she’d known, she wouldn’t have come. Staying at the envoy’s villa might not be safe, but it was still better than standing here and being judged by strangers.
“I’m not William Wang,” Prince Nolan said, his face darkening as he glanced over.
“Relax, you’re just as good as him. Once the crowd starts dropping their purse-charms and jade pendants, you won’t be short of admirers either.” Serena knew exactly what Prince Nolan meant, but deliberately teased him, making him lose all interest in continuing the conversation.
Serena stifled a laugh and tugged at Prince Nolan’s sleeve. “Alright, alright, I’m just messing with you. It’s getting late—we should head over.”
“Mm.” Prince Nolan’s face was still long, but his hands remained gentle as he carefully helped Serena down from the carriage.
As soon as Serena set foot outside, a shrill voice rang out from the crowd: “Look, look over there—it’s Eastlyn’s Ninth Royal Uncle! The one who just got off the carriage, dressed in black robes with gold embroidery at the collar and cuffs—that’s Eastlyn’s Ninth Royal Uncle.”
“He’s really good-looking.”
“I heard he’s just as handsome as the Grand Heir. The Grand Heir is called the Jade Beau, so there’s no way he’s any less.”
“Eastlyn’s women are truly blessed. Just one Ninth Royal Uncle is so attractive, and then add the Grand Heir—no wonder everyone envies them.”
“If you want to talk about luck, it should be the woman beside Ninth Royal Uncle. Word is, he dislikes women and won’t let them near him, except for one named Serena Feng. They say he even challenged the National Preceptor for her sake.”
In the crowd, some people started showing off how well-informed they were—but who knew if they were just planted there? With all this talk, the rumor that Eastlyn’s Ninth Royal Uncle loves beauty more than empire was about to become fact.
“So that’s Serena Feng? She’s really nothing special.”
“I thought she’d be some stunning beauty to capture Eastlyn’s Ninth Royal Uncle’s heart, but seeing her today is a total letdown. So much for his taste.” scoffed a proud heiress who considered herself exceptional.
“Gaudy and vulgar, completely unbearable. Eastlyn’s Ninth Royal Uncle must have never seen a real noblewoman—if Eastlyn’s noblewomen are like this, they’re nothing special at all…”
Serena and Prince Nolan appeared together, causing a huge stir. The street was filled with constant chatter, and the noble girls hiding in their private rooms craned their necks to watch, then kept complaining afterward.
The ladies were so busy gossiping that they even forgot to toss handkerchiefs or sachets at Prince Nolan—or maybe Westlyn just didn’t have that custom.
The noise all around was overwhelming. Serena’s head began to ache, and she couldn’t help but frown. Prince Nolan, thinking she was upset, leaned in and said in a voice only they could hear, “They’re just jealous. Ignore them.”
Serena smiled, not really bothered, but Nolan’s words still warmed her heart. “I just think they’re noisy, that’s all.”
The two exchanged a glance and walked forward side by side…
With her actions, Serena made it clear to all the jealous onlookers: in this world, the only woman who could walk shoulder to shoulder with Eastlyn’s Ninth Royal Uncle was her!
Just as Serena and Prince Nolan arrived, a shrill cry from a eunuch rang out behind them: “His Majesty is here! Her Majesty the Empress is here! His Highness the Crown Prince is here!”
The commoners lining both sides of the road turned and, seeing the imperial procession from afar, knelt down and shouted 'Long live the Emperor!' Their voices were scattered at first, but after several calls, they gradually fell into rhythm.
Serena and Prince Nolan paid no attention, continuing forward to stand at their assigned spot, waiting for the Westlyn Emperor’s group to arrive.
As the dragon carriage approached, the Emperor and Empress walked hand in hand, with the Empress and Crown Prince trailing half a step behind. Just as the Emperor prepared to ascend the steps, the National Preceptor, dressed in ritual robes, emerged from the Ancestral Temple, followed by dozens of disciples. But the eldest disciple—his grandson, who was usually by his side—was nowhere to be seen.
It looked like the National Preceptor had learned something.
Serena’s lips curled slightly as she glanced at the National Preceptor, then followed the Westlyn Emperor and Empress into the Ancestral Temple. Outside, countless people craned their necks to watch, but as the two vermilion doors slowly closed, they couldn’t see a thing…
Inside the temple, the Emperor and Prince Nolan exchanged a few polite words, asked after Serena’s injuries, and then ordered the National Preceptor to begin: “Find the Princess Royal as soon as possible, so her name can be cleared.”
The Emperor still refused to admit that the Princess Royal was behind the attempt on Serena’s life. Prince Nolan had no intention of arguing and simply signaled the National Preceptor to begin.
The National Preceptor lowered his gaze, had a disciple bring over the divination compass, and, after bowing to the Emperor, walked to the specially built high platform.
A breeze stirred, making his robes billow. Standing atop the platform, the National Preceptor looked almost ethereal. The officials and guards present stared at him, not daring to blink.
With a solemn expression, the National Preceptor was unmoved by the outside world, beginning to divine the Princess Royal’s whereabouts in front of everyone. As he performed each ancient and sacred gesture, he seemed to be floating among the clouds, a mystical aura swirling around him, and the temple itself seemed to fill with a mysterious energy.
Everyone gradually held their breath, their eyes filled with fervor and worship as they watched the National Preceptor—except for Serena and Prince Nolan, who remained calm and indifferent…
“Those two…” A trace of worry flashed in the Emperor’s eyes, a vague sense of foreboding. Before he could dwell on it, the compass in the National Preceptor’s hands began spinning rapidly, whipping up a gust of wind like a sudden storm…
Taking advantage of the distraction, Crown Prince Titus of Westlyn quickly hid his hands behind his back and flashed a signal. While everyone’s attention was locked on the National Preceptor, a nondescript young disciple quietly slipped out of the temple…