Chapter 167: Exodus

Two days later, the gilded gates of Duke Huo Ke's manor slowly opened, and the crystal chandelier's light poured down the steps, illuminating the entire slate road as if it were broad daylight.

Luobin Gabriel cradled an ancient seven‑string lute, the silver thread embroidery on his dark‑green velvet cloak flickering in the light and rippling with each of his steps.

The gold‑embossed seal on the invitation warmed his palm, reminding him of his current role—nothing more than a wandering minstrel summoned for entertainment.

In the past, the name "Luobin Gabriel" appeared on wanted notices throughout the kingdom, symbolizing betrayal and danger;

Now, as his boot heels clacked against the marble floor of the duke's manor, the newly forged Tang Sword at his waist seemed to become the finest talisman.

Those nobles who once harbored deep hatred for him could, even now that they recognized his face, only feel a secret alarm amid the clinking cups— the reputation of a Legendary Knight was enough to make any plot lie dormant.

The scent of wine and perfume mingled in the banquet hall as Luobin's gaze swept over the guests' jeweled faces, finally resting on Lady Aishar seated at the head table.

She wore a veil set with pigeon‑blood ruby, covering her lips with a peacock feather fan, and gave him a gentle nod.

Luobin's fingertips glided over the strings, the power of order seeping into each note like a flowing stream.

The stirring melody of "Exodus" suddenly rang out, and the crystal on the bronze chandelier quivered lightly, as if drawn by an unseen force.

The clatter of knives and forks in the banquet hall abruptly ceased, the nobles' hands holding wine glasses froze mid‑air, and their jeweled finery dulled in the music.

Lady Aishar's peacock feather fan "thwack" fell to the floor, and beneath the ruby‑set veil her pupils contracted sharply.

The passage surged with a force that broke shackles, like a hammer striking her heart—twenty years ago she had been a barefoot flower‑selling orphan at the docks, curled in a merchant ship's hold while smuggling, having once heard sailors hum a similar tune.

Now the power of order embedded in the music materialized, exploding like thunder in her ears, and the memory fragments buried beneath jewels and power surged violently in her mind.

When the piece ended, the lingering notes hung in the air, and the entire banquet hall seemed frozen in time, sinking into a suffocating silence. Everyone remained immersed in the awe‑inspiring atmosphere woven by the soaring melody and the power of order, unable to pull themselves away.

A dozen seconds later, an elderly noble with a full white beard, as if just awakened from a stupor, flushed and was the first to clap loudly.

His hands trembled slightly with excitement, and the applause rang especially loud in the cavernous hall.

Immediately after, as if the applause shattered some magical restraint, thunderous clapping erupted throughout the banquet hall.

The nobles rose one after another, their faces full of astonishment and admiration.

Someone raised a wine cup and shouted cheers at Luobin;

Others whispered to each other, excitedly discussing the exquisite brilliance of the just‑played piece.

Lady Aishar came to herself at this moment, her eyes flashing with an odd light—both the complex emotions of past memories and a keen interest in the young minstrel before her.

She gently lifted her veil, a faint smile playing at her lips, her gaze locked onto Luobin as if probing the secrets hidden deep within his heart through his outward appearance.

Luobin bowed slightly, gracefully thanking the crowd, while the new Tang Sword behind him glimmered with a cold light in the candlelight.

The piece had successfully captured everyone's attention and marked a crucial step for his next move.

As Luobin was swept into the center by waves of perfume and jewels, the hilt of the new Tang Sword pressed against his ribs through his velvet coat.

Three countesses bearing laurel crests cornered him beside an ornate pillar; as diamond earrings brushed his back of the hand, he heard one of them, in a voice as delicate as a noble maiden's, ask, "I've never heard this piece before; where does it come from?"

"Just the rough ways of wandering performers," he replied, smiling as he stepped back half a pace, while the lute case was snagged by a lady's ostrich‑feather fan, catching its tassel.

Amid the burst of laughter, a hand gloved in pearls slipped silently toward his lower back, while another fingertip stained with impatiens juice was unbuttoning his cuff.

Luobin felt like a piece of fresh meat surrounded by wolves; those seemingly elegant noblewomen now had greedy fire in their eyes, chilling his scalp more than the razor teeth of a mechanical sea monster.

"Ladies!" the sound of a wind chime finally drifted from between the crowd, her silver‑bell hair ornament shattering into cold light under the lamps. "The lady wishes to meet the poet who can make stones weep." As she spoke, she calmly pushed aside a marquis's wife's hand, the metal clasp of a leather whip in her sleeve brushing Luobin's back of the hand. "Your strings are stained with rose honey; shall a maid clean them for you?"

When he finally extricated himself from the heap of makeup, Luobin looked down at the tea stains and lipstick marks on his velvet coat and sighed helplessly.

A rouge handprint from a plump Duchess still lingered on his left chest, oddly shaped like a winged crow.

When the wind chime handed him a handkerchief scented with lavender, he suddenly smelled a rose fragrance tinged with iron rust emanating from her cuff— the bespoke enchantment perfume of the Viscountess.

"The lady awaits you in the greenhouse."

Luobin followed her through a long corridor lined with hunting trophies; the glass eyes of the mounted deer heads reflected the greasy fingerprints on his shoulder, and he suddenly felt the banquet was more daunting than he had imagined.

At least the mechanical sea monster wouldn't snag his sword hilt with jeweled claws and ask, "Can the power of order erase wrinkles?"

Under the glass dome of the greenhouse, Lady Aishar was watering night lilies. She had shed the heavy attire of the banquet, wearing only a moon‑white gauze dress, her exposed shoulder still dusted with the gold powder from one of the noblewomen earlier.

"They all say you're a minstrel from the northern realms," she said, turning, and Luobin saw the sapphire necklace at her throat— the counterfeit the Viscountess had slipped into his palm yesterday— "but I think you're more like a fallen angel punished by the gods."

Luobin dropped to one knee, the lute case thudding dully as it brushed the floor.

The new Tang Sword trembled slightly within the case, and he heard the first toll of a midnight bell in the distance, knowing the guard change was at hand.

Lady Aishar's fingertip brushed his rouge‑stained collarbone, and she let out a sudden light laugh, "It seems my collectibles like you more than I expected." Her voice softened, "But you know, true treasures are never touched by too many hands."

Luobin looked up, meeting the flickering candlelight in her eyes.

The handprints the noblewomen had left on him now burned fiercely.

It turned out that from the moment he struck the first string, he had already been caught in a double hunt.

He was the prey in Lady Aishar's eyes?

The silver chime of the wind bell rang outside the door, signaling the guard change. Luobin felt Lady Aishar's nail gently pinch his shoulder, and at that moment heard her whisper in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Tonight the greenhouse roses will bloom especially vivid, just as I saw twenty years ago, stained by blood‑red moonlight."

(End of Chapter)