The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

Which one to choose?

Tang Xixue tilted her head slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Sounds like...they're choosing a husband?"

Her tone was light and playful, as if what lay before her were not examination halls for the four arts, but four marriage certificates to be chosen.

"Your Highness," Pei Yanchuan pursed his pale lips slightly, a hint of helplessness flashing across his handsome face, but his voice remained gentle and earnest, "we are talking about serious matters."

He looked just like a young teacher being teased by a naughty student, his ears burning slightly, yet he still had to maintain a serious demeanor.

"Ah Xue".

Feng Zhuo called out softly from the side, his crimson robes gleaming brightly in the morning light.

He crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow, and spoke with a mixture of jealousy and warning.

"That Holy Son of Moon Brahma is devoted to Buddhism and has a pure and desireless heart, but he has never given you a second glance. Don't... continue to be deluded."

He paused, then remembered another name, his tone becoming even more disdainful:

"And then there's that 'Drunken Young Master Hua Rongshi,' a notorious playboy who's always attracting attention and is a complete womanizer. Stay away from him."

As Tang Xixue listened, her thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Nine time-traveling women, nine absurd strategy missions.

The Fate Book system selected nine exceptionally fortunate individuals for them, each unique, yet all of them ended in failure, their souls ruthlessly erased.

All that remained were the countless sins and the original owner of this body who was forced to clean up the mess.

The final target was Yun Boyan, the holy son of Yuefan in Xizhou.

Yun Boyan had already completed all the required credits at Lintai Academy. He lived a secluded life, staying only in the heavily guarded and extremely quiet Lanting Villa. Ordinary people could hardly even catch a glimpse of him.

The transmigrated woman failed to find a chance to get close to the holy son until the very last day of the conquest period, and didn't even get to see him.

In desperation, she did something crazy: she tied up the imperial advisor she had long admired and General Feng, hoping to elope together.

As a result, instead of flying, Tang Xixue was confronted with a hellish, chaotic scene the moment she opened her eyes.

"Speaking of which—I've never actually met that Holy Son of Moon Brahma. I've heard... he's born as if a god has descended to earth?"

Tang Xixue tapped her chin with her fingertip, a hint of interest appearing in her eyes.

This piqued her curiosity.

What exactly does the Holy Son, who indirectly killed a transmigrated woman without ever having met her, look like?

To be recognized by the system as a holder of top-tier luck is certainly no ordinary feat.

But this curiosity was quickly dampened by the flood of memories that followed—cooling me to the bone.

Yes, although she had never met Yun Boyan, it did not prevent the transmigrated woman from making her form a rift with the Holy Son.

In order to win over this pure and untainted holy son, the transmigrated woman went to great lengths, personally dictating and ordering Qingdai to write a series of stories featuring her and Yun Boyan as the main characters, with profound yet easy-to-understand content.

Rain or shine, every day, without fail, he would have someone deliver the goods to the Lanting Villa.

The scale... it's said that even the most worldly-wise playboy would blush and be speechless at the mere sight of it.

One day, the Holy Son's attendant, Wuya, accidentally dropped a storybook on the ground.

As luck would have it, it was picked up and read by several of the most outstanding people living in the Lanting Villa.

Although most of the people in Lanting are proper and polite, there happens to be a troublemaker named Hua Rongshi, known as the "Drunken Gentleman."

Most importantly, Hua Rongshi and Tang Xixue don't get along.

Thus, this scandalous anecdote spread like wildfire within their circle of top talents.

Although I haven't seen it with my own eyes, the name "Princess Mirror and Holy Son of Moon Brahma's Unspeakable One Thousand and One Nights" is already known to everyone.

The poor Holy Son was peacefully worshipping Buddha, copying scriptures, and meditating, when he was suddenly splattered with ink that he could never wash off.

I heard that the forbidden books were eventually ordered to be burned by the Holy Son himself.

Furthermore, it is said that the usually unperturbed Holy Son of the Moon Brahma, for the first time ever, became truly enraged.

He even coldly tossed out a sentence:

"Don't let me see her."

As Tang Xixue thought of this, she felt her vision go black.

Not to mention Yun Boyan doesn't want to see her, she... doesn't want to see that Holy Son either!

That's just too ridiculous.

She raised her hand and gently rubbed her temples.

In her entire life, Tang Xixue had a thousand faults, but she had never lost face so badly.

She has completely lost face in the past five years.

With interest, not a single penny was left.

"What's wrong?"

Seeing her expression change from keen interest to utter despair, Feng Zhuo couldn't help but move closer, his tone laced with sarcasm.

"Does Ah Xue really want to take the zither test and meet that divinely descended Holy Son of the Moon?"

"No."

Tang Xixue closed her eyes, even displaying a resolute air of "what's the use of trying?"

"I'll try painting."

She and Hua Rongshi actually had a tragic love affair.

When faced with two evils, choose the lesser one.

"Which one should we choose in Yanchuan?"

She turned to look at the quiet, picturesque young man in a blue robe beside her.

Pei Yanchuan met her gaze, his voice clear and steady: "I choose to try the chess game."

Pei Yanchuan did not occupy one of the four top hosting positions in the Four Arts.

It wasn't that he lacked talent, but rather that the tallest tree in the forest is bound to be felled by the wind.

He used to be patient and yielding, unwilling to stand out, and even less willing to cause trouble.

But now, he doesn't want to quit.

"Oh," Feng Zhuo raised an eyebrow upon hearing this, casting a meaningful glance at Tang Xixue, "Is this little white flower going to challenge your ex-fiancé?"

He had automatically categorized Pei Yanchuan as a little toy that Tang Xixue kept to amuse herself, his tone carrying a hint of teasing skepticism.

This vinegar packet is unusually generous.

"Yan Chuan, don't lose!"

Tang Xixue was somewhat surprised that Pei Yanchuan would choose to take the chess test.

With his abilities, any subject would be a safe bet, but the chess exam is the most unpredictable – his opponent is the deep and thoughtful Shen Xian, and the way of chess is all about adaptability, not just relying on the accumulation of knowledge to win.

"We won't lose."

Pei Yanchuan's answer was simple, his voice still gentle, yet it revealed a calm and unwavering confidence.

"Um."

Tang Xixue nodded without the slightest doubt.

That's none other than Prime Minister Pei, the top strategist who will one day single-handedly uphold the dynasty's future and support its backbone amidst the turbulent political landscape.

His chess moves are perhaps even sharper and more unpredictable than his writings.

"Ranzhi," she turned to Fengzhuo, "I'm going to Ranxia Studio. What about you?"

"Me?" Feng Zhuo scratched his head, a rare hint of embarrassment on his face. "I'll choose the book to try."

His handwriting is a skill that's barely passable.

This is all thanks to the fact that when he was young, Ah Xue always loved to stay in the study reading books and would urge him to practice calligraphy with a smile.

At that time, he had no patience or aversion to writing, but in order to stay by her side a little longer, he had no choice but to obediently grind each stroke carefully.

Now, I have developed a style of calligraphy that is vigorous and strong, and whose character is beginning to take shape.

The three parted ways under the corridor and walked toward different examination rooms.

Their figures gradually disappeared into the morning light and snow, each heading to their respective examination halls.