Chapter 388

Chapter 388: Ingenious Heart

The murderous glares vanished in an instant, replaced by laughter and teasing smiles. Even Jin Liuli, who had long held a psychological grudge against Zhang Yang, revealed a mocking expression.

All of this was because of the Phoenix Flame Holy Sword.

This legendary sword had an exalted reputation, one of the most powerful holy swords in the Western Desert. It was refined through nearly five generations of saints from the Crimson Flame Dynasty. Some claimed it had laid the foundation to eventually become an immortal sword.

The sword held a status akin to the Mother Bead of the Cold Moon Dynasty, almost symbolic of the Crimson Flame Dynasty’s identity.

However, five hundred years ago, the Phoenix Flame Holy Sword was taken by Jin Wudi, a saint of the Taixu Dynasty. This loss had brought great shame to the Crimson Flame Dynasty. For five centuries, they had tried everything to reclaim it, but to no avail.

Jin Wudi was the most powerful saint of the Taixu Dynasty, standing alongside the Star Flame Saint as one of the three mightiest in the entire Western Desert.

In the Western Desert, it had become a grim truth: once something fell into the hands of the Taixu Dynasty—especially Jin Wudi, it could never be recovered.

“Does the Lord of the Sacred Forest have confidence?” Yan Mengqing asked with a radiant smile.

Zhang Yang shook his head and replied, “Do you think I should, Princess?”

“Yes,” Yan Mengqing replied.

Zhang Yang smiled. “I’m afraid I’ll disappoint the princess. Not only do I lack confidence, but I also feel the Phoenix Flame Holy Sword has nothing to do with me. Even if it were gifted to me, I’d have to think twice about whether I even want it.”

The faint smile on Yan Mengqing’s lips finally vanished.

The gazes of her two maids turned sharp.

Around the room, expressions grew complicated—some people looked displeased, others confused, and some even amused.

Zhang Yang continued in a soft voice, “Also, when you speak to me, please don’t force a smile. While it appears sincere and heartfelt, it feels entirely fake. My intuition tells me that since you entered, beneath that false smile lies a cold and proud demeanor—one that feels untouchable. If I’m wrong, please forgive me.”

The atmosphere shifted once again.

Though he spoke softly, who couldn’t hear him?

Everyone in the room was a martial arts master, none would miss even the faintest whisper from a hundred meters away.

Yan Mengqing’s black-and-white eyes, usually appearing pure, charming, and transparent, now flashed like blades, sharp and piercing.

Zhang Yang smiled and added, “Lastly, I am the Lord of the Sacred Forest, and you are merely a princess. My status is equal to that of your father. Even if your father were to abdicate, the one qualified to stand on equal ground with me would be Yan Chihuo, not you.”

Yan Mengqing’s stunning face froze in that moment.

Zhang Yang couldn’t help but remark, “You really are beautiful.”

Then he said nothing more, lowering his head to continue eating the goat leg. It had gone cold and wasn’t very tasty anymore.

Yan Mengqing remained motionless for a while. After a long pause, she finally exhaled and said, “Your jokes, Lord of the Sacred Forest, are truly amusing.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

Zhang Yang spat out a bone and muttered, “You must be from Yan Donghuang’s bloodline. He values you so much he even sent you here personally.”

Whoosh!

Yan Mengqing suddenly turned back, her beautifully painted face showing unmistakable shock.

Zhang Yang casually resumed chewing on the white jade goat meat, mumbling, “So delicious.”

But Yan Mengqing quickly hid her loss of composure, replying softly, “I apologize for any offense earlier. I hope the Lord of the Sacred Forest can forgive me.”

Bing Yuyan, who had quietly observed the entire exchange, stood to the side with her lips slightly curled beneath her veil. She scoffed at the saintess’s narrow-mindedness.

Yet she was surprised that Zhang Yang had actually discovered Yan Donghuang’s connection.

She hadn’t expected it. Given how Zhang Yang had taken much of the Western Desert at face value, she’d assumed he hadn’t even recognized the Black Cloaked Strategist when they first met. How could he have possibly connected the dots?

That was precisely why Yan Mengqing had lost her composure.

“The marriage proposal Mengqing mentioned earlier was sincere,” Yan Mengqing whispered. “All the rest were just jokes passed down from our ancestors when speaking of the Lord of the Sacred Forest. Please don’t take them seriously.”

Zhang Yang chewed slowly on his goat meat and mumbled, “No offense taken, no offense taken. Just don’t scare him too much later.”

Hmm?

Yan Mengqing didn’t quite catch that.

Zhang Yang said nothing further.

Yan Mengqing turned and left.

The atmosphere in the room gradually grew lively again.

No one noticed when Bing Yuyan finally spoke up. “How do you know about Yan Donghuang?”

“I guessed,” Zhang Yang replied—just as he felt a slap land on his backside. He snapped, “You’re taking advantage of me!”

Bing Yuyan retorted, “Just say it.”

Zhang Yang pouted. “Yan Donghuang is probably regretting that arrogant attitude he had back in Liu Town. When I dealt with the Black Cloaked Strategist, I made a point to chat with Yan Chihuo. They were our hosts, and the Taixu Dynasty didn’t dare cause trouble in the Vast Forest or Heavenly Reaching Mountain, so they couldn’t get revenge directly. I bet they’re secretly taking it out on the Crimson Flame Dynasty.”

“That’s not his fault,” Bing Yuyan said.

“You know, you’re actually more innocent than that seemingly sweet but deeply cunning woman with her clever little schemes,” Zhang Yang said. “But he needed a target to vent his frustration. Yan Donghuang isn’t the top sage here, so he can’t just suppress anyone with status. That makes him the unlucky one. Didn’t you notice how interested he became in us afterward? I even killed the four holy maidens of Jin Liuli just to provoke him. He probably feels humiliated. That’s why I decided to mess with her a little, and I guessed right. Aren’t I amazing?”

Bing Yuyan looked at Zhang Yang, realizing how quickly he was growing in both wit and scheming. He was truly becoming a con artist, sharpened by every encounter.

She had been watching him grow ever since he’d taken his first step out of the Vast Forest.

So she asked, “Which is better, being innocent, or being clever?”

“Was that what we were talking about?” Zhang Yang replied.

As they continued chatting, Chi Jiuxiao, the master of the Sword Pavilion, walked in carrying a radiant holy sword.

The entire banquet turned to look.

Everyone knew that the most exciting part of the evening was about to begin.

Treasure snatching.

This wasn’t about mastery or strength, it was a test of luck, intuition, and hidden skill.

Chi Jiuxiao smiled and said, “Everyone, since you’ve honored our Crimson Flame Dynasty with your presence, allow me to present a small offering. The Sword Pavilion has little of true value, but a swordsmith recently forged a brand-new holy sword. It has yet to be claimed, with no attributes or alignment, like a blank canvas, ready to be shaped by its destined wielder.”

He lifted the holy sword and planted it into the ground behind him.

“This is the sword. Anyone present may try. Whoever resonates with it and earns its acknowledgment shall become its rightful owner.”

“I, representing the Sword Pavilion, voluntarily withdraw.”

The crowd instantly erupted in excitement.

Only Jin Liuli looked on with disdain. If she wanted a holy weapon, she could obtain one with ease. She scoffed quietly.

But the others were intrigued.

Even the Four Holy Sons were eager to try. None of them possessed a holy weapon, and this was a chance to compete, without shedding blood. It was the perfect way to determine superiority in a different form.

Yan Mengqing smiled faintly. “The Crimson Flame Dynasty will not participate.”

With that, the number of competitors dropped again, and cheers echoed throughout the hall.

There were many holy treasures in the world, but holy weapons were rare. A newly forged, unclaimed holy sword was an extraordinary opportunity.

Chi Jiuxiao proclaimed, “Everyone, you may begin.”

In an instant, those who were interested sat down, beginning the process of attempting to communicate with the holy sword.

Whether one could win the sword’s recognition didn’t depend on proximity; sometimes, luck played a much greater role.

During this quiet interlude, Zhang Yang stopped eating, poured himself a cup of wine, and watched the proceedings with interest.

Aside from those who had openly chosen not to participate, the only ones truly unaffected, besides himself and Bing Yuyan were surprisingly limited to Jin Liuli. Yet under his gaze, the proud woman subconsciously looked away, unable to meet his eyes, still carrying the psychological weight of their last encounter.

Connecting with the holy sword wasn’t easy. It would take time.

Not long after the attempt began, the Moon-Returning Dragon stood up and used the ancient teleportation array to leave. When he returned, he held a storage bag, which he handed to Zhang Yang.

“There are thirty-five types of fire seeds, totaling one hundred and nine. If fully activated, they could kill a saint.”

Zhang Yang’s eyes lit up.

It was time for him to act.