Chapter 993: A Person of Great Importance

P.S. Last year was an extraordinary year, one of shared storms—whether good or bad, it has now become history with the arrival of the new year.

For the year ahead, I hope everyone stays healthy and lives happily!

Main text:

“In my heart, the most beautiful person has always been my mother,” Luo Quan added, just as she had when first crowned the world’s most beautiful.

To the reporters, this answer seemed too gentle, utterly lacking in edge.

At this level, how could she lack that “none but me” arrogance?

It could only be said that Luo Quan was still too young, unaware of exactly what she now possessed.

If Luo Quan knew what these people were thinking, she’d probably find it laughable.

Why would she need to be so arrogant?

She doesn’t lead armies into battle—whose face is she showing off to?

Besides, her nature is inherently laid-back; even if she wanted to be arrogant, she couldn’t pull it off.

It’s better to get along peacefully with people—why create unnecessary complications?

“So what are your plans next? Continue livestreaming, or officially enter the entertainment industry?”

Finally, the reporters asked the question they most wanted to know.

As entertainment journalists, they certainly hoped Luo Quan would officially become an artist.

That way, they’d have news material for months—even years—simply by focusing on her alone, boosting their profiles significantly.

When Chu Yueyan first debuted, a low-tier entertainment outlet gained massive traffic by publishing every detail of her life and work, eventually rising from obscurity to second-tier status.

Because of this, the outlet became known as the “Chu Yueyan Observer”—as the name suggests, it simply observed Chu Yueyan.

Now, a girl even more beautiful than Chu Yueyan had appeared; if someone launched a “Luo Quan Observer,” traffic would surely be higher, not lower.

That’s why they needed to clarify Luo Quan’s plans—whether she intended to return home—so they could prepare in advance.

But Luo Quan’s reply differed sharply from what the reporters expected:

“My home planet’s New Year is coming soon—I plan to return home to reunite with my family. As for matters in the Universe, I’ll deal with them after I come back.”

“Isn’t the right thing to do to strike while the iron’s hot?” a reporter who didn’t understand her decision immediately asked.

“Strike what iron?” Luo Quan smiled faintly. “I haven’t even obtained a local Universe residency yet. Everything depends on completing the Wu Shen Trial. Compared to being an artist, I’m first and foremost a martial cultivator.”

Hearing this, the reporters’ expressions grew complex.

Luo Quan hadn’t mentioned it, but everyone had nearly forgotten—beyond her peerless beauty, she was also a gifted martial cultivator, her Wu Gong so exceptional the Wu Shen Temple held her in high regard.

So she wasn’t limited to a career in entertainment; besides, her musical achievements were undeniable—even as a pure musician, she could still succeed.

“She’s a complete talent,” one reporter who finally grasped it murmured inwardly.

“That’s all,” Luo Quan raised her voice, ensuring even the reporters at the back heard clearly. “The press conference is over. We’ll talk again another time.”

Without giving the reporters a chance to react, she turned and exited through the back door.

With reporters, you must act decisively—they’ll keep asking endlessly for news material, even if the artist calls a halt.

The most common scenario is: the artist is already leaving, yet reporters still block the path, relentlessly pressing questions.

So Luo Quan gave them no chance to “extend the session”—she announced the interview over and immediately slipped away.

She’d been in this conference room before, when the Nianji Conference director invited her in for rehearsal, so she knew it had both front and back exits.

When entering for the interview, she’d already checked the back door; as soon as it ended, she turned and hurried out at a light jog—no reporter anticipated her escape route.

But after evading the reporters, Luo Quan didn’t get to return home and sink into her soft bed as planned.

Bai Xingwei and her superior Ji Qingyue had both sent her messages, telling her to get ready and report to the main teleportation array—they were attending a very high-profile banquet.

At the main teleportation array, Luo Quan, in a less-than-pleasant mood, met Bai Xingwei.

She had been in casual wear moments ago; now she wore flowing hanfu, lightly made-up, the very image of a refined noblewoman.

Yet before Luo Quan, whose seal had been fully lifted, she appeared markedly inferior.

“Tsk tsk tsk tsk—you’ve finally woken up? Finally showing your true face?”

Bai Xingwei studied Luo Quan in her white gauze dress and found this version far more pleasing—seeing her made one instinctively smile from the heart.

“I didn’t expect the Song Spirit statue would expose me,” Luo Quan sighed helplessly.

“I’d rather audiences fully immerse themselves in the music, not obsess over my looks. Being too beautiful doesn’t help much in a career that doesn’t rely on looks.”

Bai Xingwei scoffed: “Oh? You’ve got such high awareness? Here’s a chance to become average-looking—will you take it?”

“How could I?” Luo Quan firmly refused. “My body and hair come from my parents—I can’t alter such sacred things just because of personal preference.”

Bai Xingwei said nothing, but her pursed lips, nearly duck-shaped, revealed everything she wanted to say.

Luo Quan chuckled: “Just kidding—I know this appearance is a gift from heaven, and I should be grateful. Not everyone has my luck.”

“Enough about that—tell me about this banquet.”

She sighed. “I’m truly terrible at handling social obligations at banquets. I’d already planned to go home and rest. If not for you and Lady Ji, I wouldn’t have bothered showing up.”

“Whether you like it or not, whether you’re good at it or not, some people’s faces you still have to honor.”

Bai Xingwei rested one hand on her hip and smiled slightly. “This banquet is hosted by the Empress herself—it’s only for the Universe’s absolute elite. Even I’m attending for the first time, thanks to my parents’ status.”

Outside, countless people scramble to obtain an invitation just to catch a glimpse of the Empress.”

As she spoke, Bai Xingwei idly brushed her hair and checked herself in a mirror—she, too, felt both caution and anticipation about meeting the Empress.

“So it’s the Empress’s banquet—no wonder,” Luo Quan’s expression shifted to match Bai Xingwei’s.

Since arriving in the Universe, she’d heard tales of this Empress.

She was said to be a beauty beyond any rank, equal to the Saintess Fafreya as the Universe’s pinnacle of beauty.

She also possessed the wisdom, intelligence, resilience, and approachability expected of an outstanding ruler.

Every subject of the Sheng Tang Heavenly Dynasty sang her praises.

If the Empress ever debuted, her popularity would surely reach one hundred percent.

Unfortunately, though not as reclusive as the Saintess, the Empress rarely left the Imperial City.

She made two or three palace visits annually, allowing the people to see her, but recordings of her were stored only on official media sites—private possession was forbidden.

Sadly, only residents with local Universe residency could access the official media sites, so until now, Luo Quan had never seen the Empress’s true face.

Now, finally, she had a chance to see her—and she was curious whether she or the Empress was more beautiful.

On Earth, she’d had no rivals. In the Universe, the only one who posed even a slight threat was Chu Yueyan.

And that, already, was the Universe’s most beautiful on record.

The only remaining mysteries were the Empress and the Saintess—she’d soon meet one of them. Suddenly, Luo Quan, once impatient, now rubbed her hands together eagerly.

Beauties are always appealing—even to other beauties.

Luo Quan loved looking at beauties—it brought her joy.

If she could, she’d sign them all up and make them all work for her.

Of course, the Empress was out of the question—how could a sovereign become her employee?

Even if the Empress agreed, the court ministers would never permit it.

“What a ridiculous fantasy—how could the Empress work for me?” Luo Quan tapped her head, banishing the absurd thoughts.

Beside her, Bai Xingwei glanced at her curiously, wondering why she suddenly hit herself.

Just as she was about to ask, the teleportation array glowed.

“Let’s go—it’s our turn.”

Bai Xingwei called to Luo Quan, stepped forward, and pulled out a bright red invitation.

Luo Quan had one too—but only a photo sent by Lady Ji Qingyue.

“Just hold it up for the scanner,” Bai Xingwei reminded, turning back. Luo Quan immediately angled her screen toward the gate.

A beam of light swept across them, followed by a gentle electronic chime:

“Identity verified. Transporting!”

With a low hum, Luo Quan felt a slight tremor beneath her feet, then the safety barrier ahead opened.

The room outside had transformed—from a cold, high-tech aesthetic to an ancient wooden structure.

As soon as they stepped out, Luo Quan saw Ji Qingyue seated on a chair, legs crossed, reviewing matters from the Wu Shen Temple.

Beneath her lavish, heavy hanfu, a pair of long, pale, rounded legs were exposed—normally so stern and aloof, now strikingly bold and sensual.

“Lady Ji,” Luo Quan stepped forward to greet her.

Ji Qingyue looked up, her cold eyes instantly filled with seven parts astonishment and three parts confusion: “You’re…Luo Quan? We haven’t seen each other in a while—how did you become like this?”

Ji Qingyue was so surprised because she’d just ended her seclusion and been told to attend the Empress’s banquet—and bring Luo Quan along.

She hadn’t understood why until now, seeing her in person.

Whether from gamma radiation exposure or a genetic mutation, Luo Quan’s current appearance was no longer on the same level as before.

If she were a man, she’d fight to the death to possess such a beauty.

“Actually, this is my true face—I just concealed it before,” Luo Quan explained with a smile, unaware her superior’s inner thoughts had already shifted.

Ji Qingyue nodded expressionlessly. “Such beauty does need hiding. Now that it’s exposed, you’ll attract no end of amorous men.”

“That’s exactly why I hid it,” Luo Quan told Ji Qingyue, voicing her concerns—also testing her reaction.

“You don’t need to worry anymore!”

Ji Qingyue raised her hand, saying the very words Luo Quan longed to hear: “As the Lady of the White Tiger Palace, if I can’t protect my own subordinate, how can I ever lead?

I can’t promise you everything—but this? You can rest easy. If any lecherous fool dares to harass you, just tell me—I’ll show him what Wu Shen Temple justice means!”

Hearing her superior’s assurance, Luo Quan felt far more at ease.

“By the way, Lady Ji, I need to report something—I’ve become the Saintess of the Dawn Church.”

“The Saintess of the Dawn Church?” Ji Qingyue couldn’t believe her ears. “What’s going on here?!”

“I don’t know either, but they said I am, and gave me this as a token.” Luo Quan spoke, pulling the Dawn’s Fall necklace from the crevice; its brilliant pendant still carried her unique warmth and scent.

Ji Qingyue glanced at it, and the minced meat swallowed hard with a gurgle: “Goodness, the Dawn’s Fall—how could the Church of Dawn give you such a treasure?”

“Exactly! I figured if they gave me something this important, they must not be trying to trick me—otherwise, the cost would be too high.” Luo Quan nodded in deep agreement, then slipped the necklace back into its place.

“Regardless, your identity as the Dawn Mother will be another shield for you. There’s no conflict between the Martial God Temple and the Church of Dawn—you can comfortably hold both positions.”

Ji Qingyue slapped Luo Quan’s shoulders twice, stirring up a turbulent wave: “But right now, the priority is coming with me to pay homage to the Empress. If His Majesty takes notice and promotes you, then truly, within the borders of the Holy Tang Heavenly Dynasty, you’ll be utterly secure.”