Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 438: The Ninth Princess’s Mask

"Excellent! If that's what it takes for you to abandon Zihan!"

Chu Ziyan replied instantly, showing no doubt.

Her words echoed sharply and decisively.

She advanced with a rigid stance, her face composed.

This wasn't from pride.

It also wasn't about overpowering the inferior.

In her view, Yu Feiyan was just a pampered royal who always got her way—a person requiring a straightforward rejection immune to her tricks or allure.

And if combat was required to force her back?

She would face it head-on.

Moreover, Yu Feiyan had boldly provoked her—and involved Bai Zihan in the process.

Seeing how far Yu Feiyan pushed, Chu Ziyan realized she wouldn't back down without a fight.

The assembly burst into chaos right away.

"What? Princess Yu is issuing a challenge to Chu Ziyan?"

"This is ridiculous! Princess Yu has only reached the Nascent Soul Realm!"

"Why would the Princess propose such a confrontation?"

"She's doomed to fail—what sort of choice is that?"

...

Suppressed chuckles spread among the onlookers.

To all those gathered, the result seemed clear-cut.

Chu Ziyan outmatched her in nearly every aspect.

From cultivation level to skills and battle history, Chu Ziyan greatly surpassed Princess Yu Feiyan, who had lived a life of constant shielding and luxury.

The clash would wrap up swiftly.

A few even pitied Yu Feiyan with head shakes.

Yet Bai Zihan experienced no such comfort.

Not for an instant.

His chest tightened with dread.

They failed to grasp it.

They were incapable.

For them, Yu Feiyan was merely a Nascent Soul cultivator.

For him—

She disguised herself as a harmless maiden behind those sweet grins.

Her cultivation topped everyone in attendance.

Over two centuries in age meant her experience needed no explanation—and she'd already unleashed a Saint-Grade technique against him.

Thus, she undoubtedly commanded superior techniques over nearly all here.

The fight would conclude in a flash—though the winner would surely not be Chu Ziyan.

Qin Lingxiao's mouth lifted just a touch.

(Just as anticipated!)

By posing as the vulnerable Ninth Princess, no one believed she'd triumph.

So of course, she'd foreseen Chu Ziyan agreeing—particularly with her fiancé in the balance.

She understood Chu Ziyan aimed to demonstrate her greater worth.

The Ninth Princess had issued the challenge, and Chu Ziyan had agreed. All knew the next step.

Their pact—and the showdown—were about to unfold.

Before steps could be taken—

"Stop this!"

Bai Zihan moved ahead.

The chamber quieted abruptly.

He positioned himself between Chu Ziyan and Yu Feiyan, his face determined, his presence solid yet firm.

"This serves no purpose," he stated bluntly.

Gazes shifted to him entirely.

He pivoted a bit, facing Chu Ziyan.

His eyes grew tender.

"My affections are fixed on Chu Ziyan," Bai Zihan announced steadily.

"Thus, regardless of any fight's result—my choice remains unchanged."

Murmurs washed over the room.

To those watching—

It came across as loyalty.

As a man openly affirming his devotion, immune to influence.

A number even stirred with emotion.

But within—

Bai Zihan's mind stayed frozen.

This isn't a contest.

It's a snare.

No matter the opponent—

Chu Ziyan.

A Grand Elder.

Anyone inside these walls—

Not one could overcome Qin Lingxiao.

She'd intentionally riled Chu Ziyan.

Presented an apparent sure-win duel—

Merely to guide her into doom.

And Bai Zihan refused to permit it.

His stare fixed on Yu Feiyan.

"Therefore, Princess—let's conclude this now!"

Qin Lingxiao's grin failed to touch her gaze.

Right when she assumed control resumed, Bai Zihan interfered once more.

For a split second, quiet dominated.

Then Yu Feiyan grinned anew.

As though Bai Zihan's meddling simply entertained her.

"Why does Young Master Bai meddle?" she inquired mildly.

Her eyes shifted to Chu Ziyan.

"This concerns two ladies," Yu Feiyan went on, her tone soft but steadfast, "seeking to show who truly merits Young Master Bai’s affection."

A stir coursed through the assembly.

A few nodded without thinking.

Others bent closer.

Love's contest.

A battle for romance.

It appeared... logical.

Bai Zihan sensed a wave of disgust.

He advanced once more.

"No!"

The lone term rang harshly.

His eyes pinned Yu Feiyan, icy and resolute.

"You misjudge something, Princess."

He kept his volume even.

Still, each phrase sliced through the whispers.

"I didn't love Chu Ziyan for her cultivation, her gifts, or her lineage."

Chu Ziyan’s eyes expanded a fraction.

Bai Zihan pressed on, his manner even but unyielding.

"Nor will I select a partner by strength, rank, or victory in combat."

He rotated completely to Yu Feiyan.

"I appreciate the Ninth Princess's kind regard for me," he expressed politely.

"Yet I cannot—and shall not—return them."

The room turned utterly hushed.

"Emotions aren't spoils to seize," Bai Zihan declared icily. "Nor rewards to contest."

His statements hit with weight.

Yu Feiyan’s smile froze.

Bai Zihan breathed out gradually.

"And above all," he added, scanning the chamber, "today marks a day of tribute."

"A festivity for the warriors of the Northern Battlefield."

His tone grew stern.

"Twisting it into a spectacle from selfish fixation disrespects—the deceased, the survivors, and all who gave their all."

Many agreed with nods. Truly, Bai Zihan's points held merit.

Bai Zihan’s gaze met Yu Feiyan once more.

"Thus, Princess," he stated simply, "this issue stops here."

Bai Zihan ignored any reply from Yu Feiyan.

He spun and confronted the royal seat squarely.

He formed a fist salute, his form upright though a subtle tension lingered in his motions.

"Your Majesty!"

The Emperor’s stare intensified.

Bai Zihan addressed him evenly, free of bitterness or complaint.

"This humble one has claimed the honors granted for the Northern Battlefield," he noted smoothly.

"The achievements, the artifacts, the acclaim—I receive them thankfully."

The assembly held its breath in attention.

"However, regarding anything further," Bai Zihan went on, his pitch firm, "this humble one must refuse!"

He raised his chin a touch.

A surge of astonishment flooded the room.

Quiet ensued.

All stares fixed on the Emperor.

The Emperor examined Bai Zihan at length.

Then—

He let out a breath.

A soft, fatigued noise.

"So be it," the Emperor finally uttered, inclining his head gradually.

No fury colored his words.

Just resignation.

"This affair... isn't mine to impose. If your heart is set on another, what choice do I have?"

A murmur stirred the officials.

Bai Zihan had rejected—

And the Emperor permitted it.

Not from desire.

But from necessity.

Even injured.

Even reserved.

Even positioned there with ruined meridians and a hazy path ahead—

Bai Zihan remained Bai Zihan.

Events always bent to his will, and this day proved no exception.

Bai Zihan saluted with clasped fists again.

"This humble one appreciates Your Majesty's comprehension."

His speech stayed even, balanced—neither victorious nor aggrieved.

The Emperor gestured casually, as though waving away not Bai Zihan, but the issue.

"Depart," he instructed. "Look after your well-being."

Bai Zihan inclined profoundly.

Then he pivoted.

He avoided glancing at Yu Feiyan further.

He extended his arm, fingers encircling Chu Ziyan’s wrist with effortless familiarity.

"We’re going," he murmured lowly.

His inflection left no space for denial.

And Chu Ziyan... offered none.

Chu Ziyan tensed for a brief instant—

Then eased.

She gave a subtle nod and trailed him willingly, a soft flush touching her face amid her steady demeanor.

The pair proceeded together across the chamber.

The throng divided naturally.

Some looks held admiration.

Some held doubt.

Some held tangled jealousy.

A wounded legend.

A spurned royal union.

A lady trailed him without pause.

No one could pinpoint the most startling element.

Trailing them—

Yu Feiyan stayed rooted.

Her bearing unaltered.

Her face tranquil.

Still beaming.

But buried in her depths, a chill stirred.

Not rage.

Not shame.

Curiosity!

As Bai Zihan progressed, his awareness extended fully.

He refrained from turning directly.

Through peripheral sight, through subtle Qi fluctuations and motives, he discreetly watched Qin Lingxiao.

Yu Feiyan lingered in place.

Not a hint of murderous aura emerged.

There was zero.

Bai Zihan’s hold on Chu Ziyan firmed slightly.

(Should she strike...)

He grasped the reality.

Qin Lingxiao required no ambush.

She needed no plots.

She needed no pretexts.

If she desired his death—

He'd already perished.

Right then.

In this space.

Encircled by rulers, seniors, and champions.

And not one could halt her.

At minimum, Bai Zihan understood that Qin Lingxiao had no plans to discard her facade, not at this point.