Villain: I Possess The Dragon Yang Dao Physique, All Saintesses Turns Into Villainesses

Chapter 110



Chapter 110: Open Rivalry and Hidden Battles! Are Both Saintesses Giving Themselves to the Prince?

Ji Bai’s clownish behavior ended amidst a wave of laughter and ridicule from the crowd. No one took him seriously. Tonight, however, five people were the focus of everyone’s attention:

Lin Qi’an, the Prince of Beiyang; Zhao Ziyu, the Prince of Tai’an; Zhao Qingmeng, the Princess of Tai’an; Lu Miaoyin, the Saintess of Qinglian; and Mo Shuiqiu, the Saintess of Yunmo.

The first three held the highest political power among the attendees, while the latter two were divine maidens known for their extraordinary talents, admired by all. 

“Prince, this way, please.”  

“Prince, please take your seat.”  

“Princess, this way.”  

The five key figures were invited to the prime seats in the pavilion, where jade plates filled with delicacies adorned the stone table. The remaining hundreds of talented scholars either took seats below or stood around, awaiting the event.

“The Book Saint has arrived!”  

As the white-haired Book Saint took his seat, everyone present showed respect to the revered elder. He was a Saint who had cultivated the Dao through literature and was undoubtedly the most learned person there.

“The Master of Books has arrived!”  

The Master of Books, Mo Haitian, the half-Saint and Master of Yunmo Dao Palace, also arrived. His daughter, Mo Shuiqiu, was by his side, and Lu Miaoyin was the sole disciple of the Master of Books. 

With all key figures present, the literary gathering was ready to begin.

“Many thanks to the Prince for saving my daughter during the Great Hunt.” Mo Haitian nodded at Lin Qi’an, expressing his gratitude.

“It was my duty.” Lin Qi’an smiled in response.

Mo Shuiqiu’s gaze softened as she watched the Young Lord in his white robes, her heart stirring like the gentle ripples of an autumn lake. 

“Even a half-Saint like Mo Haitian shows such respect to the Prince. His status is truly remarkable!”

“Wait a minute, why didn’t the Book Saint greet the Prince of Tai’an?”

“Perhaps it’s because these esteemed elders only value true talent and skill, not those who rely on the influence of others.”

The Book Saint was well aware that Zhao Ziyu had the assistance of an old national teacher and hadn’t passed the literary tests through his own merit. People of letters held their pride, and they looked down on those who faked their way through.

“The following individuals will serve as judges for this literary gathering: The Master of Books, Wang Yi, The Book Saint, Mo Haitian, and Lin Qi’an, the Prince of Beiyang.”

Hearing this, Zhao Ziyu’s expression immediately darkened. Why is Lin Qi’an a judge, and I’m not? He slammed his hand on the table.

“Does Yunmo Dao Palace believe that this Prince is unworthy to be a judge?”

“Not at all, Your Highness. We simply wish for you to fully enjoy the event, to immerse yourself in its beauty, without the burden of judging lesser works.”  

The response was crafted cleverly, giving Zhao Ziyu a graceful way out. He had no choice but to let the matter drop.

“The literary gathering will now officially begin!  

“Tonight, over seven hundred participants are present, making this the largest event to date. We hope that each of you will showcase your talents and allow others to appreciate and learn from your brilliance.”

“Please come forward in order—music, painting, calligraphy, poetry, and chess are all welcome!”

The first round was all about showcasing one’s talents. Since many participants had barely prepared and lacked true skill, the easiest way to weed them out was to make them demonstrate their abilities upfront.

An open space was cleared in the center, complete with brushes, ink, paper, and instruments.

“First up, Xu Feng!”

“I will present a poetry recitation for everyone.”

Reciting poetry was considered the simplest method. After all, who among the attendees couldn’t memorize a few lines? Even those who had barely prepared could recite something they had crammed.

However, true poetry recitation wasn’t as easy as it seemed. Merely reciting lines was the lowest bar. To truly impress, one had to connect emotionally with the poem, conveying its depth with feeling. The most skilled reciters could bring their audience to tears with a single verse.

“Next up.”  

“I will paint a picture.”  

“Next!”  

“I’ve composed a poem, please take a look!”

One by one, the participants took the stage to demonstrate their talents. Gradually, those who were simply there to bluff their way through were exposed, and they could only retreat to the back to watch.

The performances naturally divided participants into ranks. The lowest tier was poetry recitation, as most simply recited lines they hadn’t fully understood. Many were eliminated for their lack of comprehension.  

Next came copied paintings. Most only captured the surface of famous works, lacking any real spirit or essence.  

Further up the scale were performances of music and chess. The highest level, of course, belonged to original works—whether poetry, painting, or music. These were the true displays of mastery.

“Magnificent! Truly brilliant!”

Mo Shuiqiu had just completed her painting, capturing the likeness of every single participant at the gathering. The level of detail and skill in her work amazed the crowd.

Mo Shuiqiu’s painting showcased mountains, water, and a waterfall, capturing the spirit of each person in the scene, with Lin Qi’an remaining as dashing as ever.  

“No wonder she’s the Book Saint’s daughter—her talent is incredible.”  

“A painting like this could be worth a fortune!”  

“And to think this is just a rough sketch. Once she refines it, it’ll be a masterpiece. She’s a true genius!”  

After the crowd marveled at her work, the judges were called upon to give their critiques. Lin Qi’an, being clever, waited until the end, allowing the two elders to speak first, so he could echo their opinions. 

Even if he couldn’t discern all the finer points, he remained composed, knowing his primary goal was to undermine the Child of Destiny, not to give intricate feedback on everyone else.

“Prince Lin Qi’an, your evaluation, please.”  

When it was Lin Qi’an’s turn, he followed suit and offered a few words of praise, merely going through the motions. Unexpectedly, Mo Shuiqiu suddenly spoke up.  

“If the Prince likes it, I am willing to refine the painting further and present it to you as a gift.” 

Her words sparked a flurry of whispers.  

“My goodness, this is the second time the Saintess has gifted the Prince a painting, isn’t it?”  

“Yes, during the Great Hunt, she gave him one as well. She’s never done this for any other man!”  

“Ah, I’m so envious…”  

Lin Qi’an didn’t refuse. Smiling, he nodded, “That would be wonderful.”  

Shortly after, another bombshell dropped—Lu Miaoyin, the Saintess of Qinglian, was up next. Her graceful figure and delicate features, wrapped in a flowing green dress that resembled a blooming lotus, left everyone breathless. 

As she moved, her long, jade-like legs peeked out from beneath her swaying skirt, making her appear like a goddess descended from the heavens.  

To everyone’s surprise, she chose to compose a poem.  

“Damn it… She promised not to go all out and let me take the spotlight,” Mo Shuiqiu thought bitterly, clenching her teeth. 

She had assumed Lu Miaoyin would hold back, but it was clear now that her so-called sister had no such intentions. Instead, she was giving it her all by selecting poetry, the skill that best showcased her talent.  

Hmph, so much for sisterhood. It seems that even the graceful Qinglian Saintess isn’t immune to the petty schemes of women. Appearing pure and serene on the surface, but beneath it all, she’s no different from anyone else.

“Wha—what a beautiful poem!”  

“Absolutely brilliant. Though on the surface it speaks of the moon, I can sense a deeper affection hidden within.”  

“Ah, this is the true essence of literary elegance, using nature to express one’s emotions.”  

As expected, Lu Miaoyin’s poem drew widespread admiration.  

Finally, Zhao Ziyu could no longer sit still. He suddenly stood up and declared, “Saintess of Qinglian, may I ask if you would be willing to gift this poem to me, the Crown Prince?”

The Crown Prince had personally requested her work! This small interlude sent waves of discussion through the crowd. Earlier, Mo Shuiqiu had gifted her painting to Lin Qi’an, and now it was clear that Zhao Ziyu felt his pride was at stake. His eyes burned with desire—he had clearly shifted his focus from the Saintess of Tianchi to the Saintess of Qinglian.

However, Lu Miaoyin gracefully knelt, her demeanor calm and elegant as she responded softly, “Your Highness is as noble as a dragon among men. I believe that unless the poem was written by a master of great renown, like my teacher, it would not be worthy of you.”  

She refused him! 

The crowd was taken aback—no one had expected Lu Miaoyin to so boldly reject the Crown Prince. Thankfully, her reason was sound enough not to offend him too deeply. In fact, Zhao Ziyu even felt somewhat satisfied, agreeing that her reasoning was valid.  

But her next words sent him into a furious rage.

“Prince Lin Qi’an, would you care to accept this humble work of mine?” 

Following Mo Shuiqiu, Lu Miaoyin now also wanted to gift her poem to Lin Qi’an! Everyone was stunned.  

This kind of treatment is insane… Poor Crown Prince, he couldn’t even get a poem, yet Lin Qi’an gets everything without even asking!  

The whispers grew louder, with countless people debating the scene before them.

“Are the Saintess of Qinglian and the Saintess of Yunmo both vying for Prince Lin Qi’an’s favor?”  

“That can’t be right! Maybe Mo Shuiqiu has a chance since Prince Lin Qi’an saved her before, but the Saintess of Qinglian? She’s always been so devoted to her poetry and books. Do you really think she’d actively pursue a man?”  

“You’re right. When you think about it, it doesn’t seem likely…”

“Of course,” Lin Qi’an replied with a smile, accepting the poem graciously.  

As Lu Miaoyin returned to her seat, Mo Shuiqiu greeted her with a warm smile.  

“Miaoyin, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you compose such a fine poem. You’ve certainly surprised us all.”  

“Just a spontaneous creation, nothing more…” Lu Miaoyin avoided her gaze, feeling somewhat guilty.  

It’s worth mentioning that even Zhao Qingmeng took to the stage, revealing that she did, in fact, possess some talent.  

“Next, Ji Bai!”  

At the sound of his name, all eyes turned toward Ji Bai—the Child of Destiny. His moment had finally arrived.

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