Hidden By Moonlight

Morning light filtered through the windows—soft gold spilling over the edges of the bed. Lin Yuan stirred beneath the warm quilt, eyes blinking open to a quiet, peaceful room. For a fleeting moment, everything felt calm, almost unreal.

Then a memory surfaced.

Wait… wasn't I lying on the grass last night? Lady Yuexian, Xiao Hu, and Qingxue… weren't they with me?

He bolted upright—only to nearly fall off the bed in shock.

Beside him, lying peacefully, was Lady Mingyan, dressed in a casual robe, her hair slightly tousled. She opened one eye lazily.

"Is there a problem if I sleep here?"

Lin Yuan clutched his chest, startled. "No! I just… I wasn't expecting anyone."

"You passed out under the Soul Tree," she said with a gentle stretch. "Sect Leader Yuexian carried you here. You didn't even stir."

"...I see," he muttered, trying to compose himself.

After a beat, she added calmly, "Let me into your pocket dimension later. I have something to retrieve."

He gave a stiff nod, still recovering.

---

Later that morning, Lin Yuan sat cross-legged beneath the Soul Tree, golden-orange light pouring over the courtyard as the sun began to rise. The world felt quiet—serene.

Sect Leader Yuexian descended gracefully beside him, her white robes fluttering gently in the breeze.

She didn't speak at first, just watched the rising sun. Then, with a low voice, she asked, "How do you know about my past?"

Lin Yuan looked at her. "I don't know much. But… I think we've both suffered things we don't speak about."

Yuexian let out a dry, bitter laugh. "How absurd. A twelve-year-old boy comforting a tired old monster like me."

Lin Yuan tilted his head. "How old are you really?"

"Old enough," she smirked. "Though if people saw us walking together, they'd probably think we were sisters."

They shared a quiet chuckle.

Then Lin Yuan sighed. "...Do I have to meet the princesses again today?"

"No," Yuexian replied, her eyes glinting. "In fact, I never invited them. You were the one chosen for this beauty event."

"...Wait. Me?"

"If you don't want to participate," she said casually, "then advance to the next cultivation realm. Otherwise, you walk the stage."

Lin Yuan sighed deeply. "...Then I'll participate."

---

Later that morning, after breakfast—simple but fragrant egg-fried rice made by Sect Leader Yuexian herself—she told him, "Stay. I have a surprise."

She returned with a crystal vial filled with shimmering silver-red liquid.

"You remember the nine-tailed fox I mentioned?"

Lin Yuan blinked. "You mean…?"

Yuexian nodded. "This is her blood essence."

Lin Yuan stared. "You didn't kill her… did you?"

"Of course not." She smiled faintly. "She shed this willingly. It's part of her cultivation . I asked for it—she agreed."

"...So what's it for?"

"Beauty enhancement," she said as she uncorked the vial. "Charm. Presence. Spiritual clarity. It will awaken your hidden aura.If you talk some garbage,people will say your voice is divine melodies."

She dipped her fingers into the liquid and gently began spreading it across his cheeks, his jaw, his neck—even threading it through his hair.

"It… tickles," he muttered.

"Endure it," Yuexian replied firmly. "You already have a beautiful face. But beauty without aura is meaningless."

She worked with the precision of an alchemist—like she was sculpting an art piece with fox blood and patience.

---

Three Days of Preparation

Day One: Lin Yuan was wrapped in herbal masks—leaves, powders, and cleansing oils to detoxify his skin and stabilize his qi.

Day Two: He was immersed in chilled ice lotus essence, which turned his skin porcelain-cool. The cold pierced down to the bone.

Day Three: His pores were opened with blazing fire pearl mist, which felt like bathing in dragon steam. It was agonizing—but effective.

Lin Yuan stepped into the moonlit training hall, only to be greeted by Sect Leader Yuexian's sharp gaze.

She pointed at his feet.

"Remove your shoes."

"…What?"

"Take. Them. Off."

Reluctantly, he slipped off the embroidered slippers. The polished jade tiles felt cool against his soles.

Yuexian circled him slowly, her expression unreadable.

"You're too tall. People love short girls. Petite. Graceful. Not—" she waved at him—"whatever this is. Right now you look like a man in a dress."

Lin Yuan blinked. "But… I am a man."

"Not tonight you're not," she snapped. "You're the Taiyin Sect's hidden gem. A flower blooming under the moon. An illusion. And illusions don't stomp."

He sighed, shoulders drooping.

She slapped his back lightly. "Posture."

"Ow!"

"Back straight. Chin slightly lifted. Imagine you're royalty—because you are."

Lin Yuan tried to adjust.

"No, not like a warrior about to duel. That's a death march. We're aiming for elegance, not execution."

She stepped in front of him, her own walk as silent as drifting fog. Every gesture she made shimmered with grace.

"Watch," she said, gliding forward. "Step with intention. Your weight should float. Your hands should rest like falling petals. Your eyes—mysterious but warm."

Lin Yuan tried to copy her.

He stumbled.

"You just tripped over your own foot."

"I noticed," he grumbled.

Yuexian circled him again. "You've got a pretty face, Lin Yuan, but beauty without grace is like a sword without a sheath. Dangerous. Pointless."

"That's the nicest insult I've ever received," he muttered.

She smirked.

Then, more softly: "You're doing well."

"…Really?"

"No. But you're trying. That's more than most."

"Your posture," she said, circling him like a hawk. "Straighten your spine. Relax your shoulders. Lift your chin—but not like a rooster, like a snow crane. Gentle. Proud."

Lin Yuan awkwardly adjusted himself. "Like this?"

She gave a tsk. "No. You're walking like a boy pretending to be proud. You must walk like someone born to be admired."

She snapped her fingers.

A trail of glowing lotus petals appeared across the polished floor.

"Walk. From here to the far wall. No sound. Each step must flow like a stream—no dragging, no stomping."

Lin Yuan obeyed.

His first step landed hard. His second nearly tripped him. The third was too soft and ended in a twist.

Yuexian sighed. "You're walking like a sword cultivator late for a duel."

"I am a sword cultivator," Lin Yuan whispered.

She ignored that.

"Again."

This time, she walked beside him.

Her steps made no sound. Her long sleeves floated behind her like clouds.

"Watch me," she said. "Step with the toes first, not the heels. Your knees must brush, not clash. Your weight should pass through the hips—not hang from them. Your back is your command. Your fingers must curl like flower petals—not claws."

She lifted one arm and demonstrated: a single, fluid turn—elegant, serene, powerful.

Lin Yuan tried to copy her.

He stumbled again.

"You're thinking too much," Yuexian said. "Stop thinking."

"I feel like an idiot," he muttered.

She stepped behind him and gently adjusted his hands. Her breath touched the back of his ear.

"You're not an idiot. You're learning. Even butterflies crawl before they fly."

They tried again.

And again.

Until, after 9 hour of silence and repetition…

He walked.

Not stumbled. Not strutted.

He glided.

Like mist over moonlit water.

Yuexian nodded. "Now… again. But imagine the world watching you. Imagine you're surrounded by queens who want to kill you and princes who want to marry you."

"...That's oddly specific."

"I was there once," she said softly.

He paused. "Did you… win?"

Yuexian smiled, almost sorrowfully. "No. But I survived. And I learned that grace is sharper than any blade."

She stepped closer, resting her hand lightly on his shoulder.

"Lin Yuan. Don't pretend to be a girl. Be a moon—silent, luminous, untouchable. Don't walk like a lady. Walk like a legend."

---

The Day of the Competition

On the fourth morning, Sect Leader Yuexian personally dressed him in a flowing violet gown embroidered with moon motifs. Silver threads shimmered like starlight. A soft glow hovered over him—illusion magic subtly enhancing every feature.

She applied a faint blush, peach-tinted lip balm, and brushed his lashes gently.

A drop of perfume—icy, floral, slightly sweet—completed the transformation.

Lin Yuan looked at himself in the mirror and blinked.

Even he couldn't recognize himself.

When he stepped out, Xiao Hu gasped aloud. "S-Sister Lin?! You… You look like a divine spirit descended from the moon!"

Even Qingxue was stunned. "Your aura… even your scent changed…"

"You're ready," Yuexian said softly. "Now walk like a noble lady. Head held high."

Lin Yuan met her eyes and gave a faint smile.

"I'm not afraid. Because this… doesn't define me."

---

The Beauty Competition

The main courtyard had been transformed into a celestial garden. Lanterns floated overhead, casting soft light over bridges and lotus ponds. Pink petals rained gently from enchanted trees.

157 disciples from the Taiyin Sect. 10 noble princesses. Hundreds of spectators.

And then came Lin Yuan.

He stepped onto the stage like a dream—soft-footed, graceful, elegant. His eyes shimmered with calm clarity.

A wave of silence swept through the crowd.

"Who is she…?"

"Which kingdom…?"

"Is she even human?"

The princesses whispered, confused and awed.

A high judge leaned forward. "Young lady… what is beauty, in your eyes?"

Lin Yuan paused, then smiled gently.

> "Skincare and makeup may help us attract others. Cultivation clears our impurities and brightens our spirit. But mortal beauty… that's different. It's the light in your eyes. The peace in your soul.

Everyone is beautiful. It just shines in different ways.

And real love—true love—sees beauty even through scars, burns, or age. If a stranger only sees your skin… they never saw your soul."

For a moment, no one breathed.

Then—the entire courtyard erupted in thunderous applause.

Even the judges looked stunned. One by one, they raised their scrolls:

10.0

10.0

10.0

A perfect score.

The Taiyin Sect's hidden princess had stolen the spotlight.

And somewhere in the crowd, masked figures murmured:

> "That… wasn't just a girl."

"Who is she?"

"He. That was a boy."

"No… that was a storm wearing silk."