Today, Lanqi Calls the Shots

Late August in Palieu, the City of Flowers, brought the fourth Sunday of the month. With autumn fast approaching, heavy, overcast clouds blanketed the city, as though a torrential downpour hovered just on the brink of breaking. Because of the weather, the Sacred Silver Vine Arena had kept its open-air dome closed, switching to enclosed mode. "So this is what the Sacred Silver Vine Arena looks like with the vault shut when rain's on the way." In the Sky Sovereign Pavilion, where the Batiste family had booked a private box for three consecutive matches, Christina leaned her arms over the back of the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. The venue soared so high one could barely see the top. Projected across its colossal semicircular vaulted ceiling was a distant starry sky, a deep blue canvas inlaid with stars like shimmering gems that drifted slowly through the air. Now and then, an illusory wisp of white cloud drifted past, draping over the firmament like a sheer veil of mist. "Christina, sit like a proper lady." From the sofa across from her, Kyle, the eldest son of Earl Batiste, looked at his younger sister and offered a resigned rebuke. Though she had grown up doing whatever pleased her, slumping around like an old codger on an occasion like this was far too unbecoming of an earl's daughter. "Yeah, yeah." Christina gave a perfunctory reply and straightened up slightly. She looked toward her brother. Since Butler Rocky's working schedule was Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and today was Sunday, he hadn't accompanied the family. His absence immediately made her feel like someone was missing. Moreover, if there was anyone she truly felt wary of, it was Rocky. With him gone, she had unconsciously let her guard down. "Milady, let's head home early today," Inoan whispered beside her. "Right. The weather's lousy, and they say a huge thunderstorm is hitting tonight." Christina had almost asked why, but realized the reason before the words left her mouth. Inside, one couldn't feel it, but one could easily guess what it was like out there. Low rumbles of thunder rolled down the entrance corridor from time to time, echoing faintly through the arena's cavernous lounges. Spending time with Inoan lately had shown Christina that the girl disliked damp weather; whether getting caught in the rain or getting wet, she abhorred it. Even though the medicine Christina had brought—the finest remedies an earl's house could buy—had healed the greater part of her wounds, Inoan still looked perpetually timid. According to the other maids at home, they could no longer sense any mana from Inoan at all, leaving even Christina unable to gauge how strong she truly was. She would just have to ask the butler again on Monday. No, wait. If the Tata lottery ticket she bought won today, she could fire Butler Rocky come Monday. Then this house would be free of that evil deity Rocky, leaving only Inoan to keep her company every day. Just thinking about it felt like a dream. "Could we... please not fire Butler Rocky?" Inoan asked in a voice like a mosquito's hum, seeming to see through Christina's thoughts. "You can't rely on him or count on him to protect you forever. He's taught you basically everything he needs to teach, and you might even be stronger than him right now," Christina said, full of confidence in Inoan. The maid she had hired wouldn't necessarily lose to the butler her brother had hired; Inoan was just stuck in a long period of battle damage. "..." Kyle shot his sister a glance. Hearing her boldly conspire to fire the butler he had hired struck him as utterly ridiculous. Yet if Christina truly intended to do so, he wouldn't put up much resistance. As long as Rocky agreed, Kyle wouldn't interfere. After all, Kyle had long realized that someone like Rocky was never meant to be a butler hired for fifty thousand pounds for five years. Encountering Rocky could only be called a stroke of fate for the Batiste family. Returning his freedom to him wouldn't be a bad thing. "That butler is so secretive. You don't think he avoided us on purpose today, do you?" Christina looked around the Sacred Silver Vine Arena. She strongly suspected Rocky was right here today, because he had asked her to look after his little black cat for the day. "Meow, meow." Boss Cat sat nearby, doing its best impression of an ordinary cat. During the first round, Lanqi had left it in the care of Countess Rosalinda. It waited until Tata finished her exam before going to find her. Later, during the second round, Lanqi had brought it to the Sky Sovereign Pavilion while on duty, and it had taken quite a liking to this luxurious annex. So today, at Boss Cat's own request, Lanqi had boarded it with the Batiste family. The final round of the Platinum-rank card maker exam, Artistry, was already more than halfway complete. All examinees were currently working through the prompt inside the shadow world, and some had gradually begun submitting their finished pieces. The prompt for this round was remarkably concise and clear: *Complete an artistic portrait. Aside from the baseline score determined by the artificial shadow world, the remaining points will be assessed by the chief examiner.* Christina looked at the screen. As the final round, today was quieter than any preceding stage. On the holographic projection screen, examinees were dispersed across separate sections of Parkinson Palace simulated by the artificial shadow world, working on their creations without disturbing one another. The broadcast moved and shifted through the palace at intervals. In the grand central hall, the view was first dominated by a colossal stalactite dome. Plaster reliefs of exquisite opulence glittered under the lights, their sculpted angels dancing as if ready to leap out from the plaster thicket. At the center of the vault, a stained-glass mosaic sparkled like a brilliant pearl, imprinting vibrant shafts of prismatic light onto the marble floor. On either side stood two seven-meter-tall sphinxes locked in ruthless combat—the epic statues *Lion of Battle* and *Lion of Victory*. Ascending the stone stairway, the majestic Gallery of Reason and Gallery of Splendor unfolded. In the left wing, Palieu Square, a fountain crowned by a statue of the God of Will and Affection rose at the center, glistening with droplets like countless precious gems. In every open space, examinees sat quietly, surrounded by flat, round, and filbert brushes, working diligently on their paintings. The prompt for this round floated across the walls of this gallery in archaic script: [Theme: Self-Portrait] [Every examinee may freely use mirrors within the artificial shadow world.] [Once finished, you may submit your work to the chief examiner.] [The venue and prisms themselves are not part of the theme and need no elaboration.] [...] Everything in view leapt before the eyes with striking clarity. Many Gold-rank card makers sat with brows knitted tight. Outside the artificial shadow world. "Isn't a self-portrait the easiest prompt?" Christina asked Kyle from the stands. Her brother Kyle knew a thing or two about art; after all, he had failed the entrance exam for Palieu Art University back in the day. Butler Rocky was even more impressive; he had likely passed it in his time. "A self-portrait is both pure and difficult because it involves technical challenges alongside profound self-exploration," Kyle explained, turning his head toward Christina as he intently watched the shifting works of the Gold-rank card makers on the giant screen. "First, there's the basic technical hurdle." On a technical level, a self-portrait required the artist to accurately capture and reproduce their own facial features. It demanded not only supreme brushwork, but also a deep grasp of light, shadow, proportion, and composition. Unlike painting someone else, the subject under observation was the artist's own face, and the perspective often shifted during the process, vastly multiplying the difficulty. "Then there's emotional honesty, self-reflection, the choice of self-presentation, the tension between the public and private persona, and so on. Strictly speaking, a self-portrait can be harder than painting another person." Kyle explained to Christina why so many seasoned Gold-rank card makers in the artificial shadow world were lost in contemplation. Since ancient times, countless painters had created self-portraits. Among them were works asserting the painter's authority, as well as artisans who simply couldn't afford a model and painted themselves instead. Regardless of motive, many immortal masterpieces had been born from the practice. It could be said to reflect the artist at the exact moment of creation. Shortly after, murmurs of discussion rippled through the Sky Sovereign Pavilion. A Gold-rank card maker appeared to have entered the examiners' chamber to submit a piece. On screen. Inside the conference hall where the two examiners and the Card Makers Association assistants sat, a tall, upright young magical engineer with resolute features and long hair tied into a ponytail entered, carrying a painting. It was Eskal, a rising star magical engineer from a minor nation. Dressed in clean, simple black artisan attire with a tool belt around his waist and an intelligent prosthetic limb he had invented on his right arm, he stood waiting before the long table. The silver-masked chief examiner sat at the head of the table, resting his chin on his hand as he admired the piece. Assistant Examiner Countess Rosalinda watched quietly as well. Though she was working on her own painting, she appeared quite leisurely and could pause at any moment. Eskal's self-portrait was composed of irregular geometric shapes collaged together, boasting vivid, high-contrast colors. Within the patchwork geometry, contours resembling machinery components could be discerned, as if depicting a mechanized human figure. Overall, it struck the viewer with a burst of power and vibrant kinetic energy, broadcasting the engineer's passion for technology and innovation. [Portrait: Shattered Contours] [Type: Art] [Quality: Sacred (Damaged)] [Tier: 1] [Creatures who admire this painting have a chance to lose a small amount of stamina while gaining a moderate enhancement to mechanical attributes for 12 hours.] "Utilizing cubist and futurist techniques. Not bad," the mysterious chief examiner evaluated, inputting scores for each metric. During the first round, he had sweated buckets as an assistant examiner, but now, presiding over the third round as chief examiner, he appeared exceptionally composed. This exam calculated the total score across six dimensions: technical proficiency, creativity and originality, expressiveness and thematic fit, overall completion, divine imbuement, and mana foundation. Using the self-portrait by Lokins, provided by the headquarters exam committee in the Western Hub, as the benchmark: His piece was pegged at ninety-five points, serving as the standard against which other examinees' works were scored. Countess Rosalinda peeked at Lanqi's scoring. The final tally averaged out to eighty-two. Her eyelids twitched twice. Watching him throughout the process, Rosalinda felt Lanqi's scores were consistently on the generous side. By her standards, she wouldn't have dared give more than seventy. Although the passing mark for the examinees would ultimately be determined by the score Lanqi assigned to her own painting—surpassing her as assistant examiner meant passing—giving high scores to every student meant Lanqi wasn't showing Lokins any face whatsoever. Because the higher a score was relative to the benchmark work by Lokins, the more it implied Lokins's piece wasn't all that impressive. Rosalinda felt Lokins indeed carried the air of a spoiled rich heir eager to flaunt his work and demand praise, though ordinary people truly wouldn't dare offend him. Lanqi acting like this felt immensely satisfying to Rosalinda, but she was also a bit worried Lokins might blow his top. *"..."* Lokins remained silent for a long time. Even through the screen, Rosalinda could sense the smoldering wrath between his brows. In truth, Lokins's painting wasn't bad; it held its own quite well among Sacred-grade works. The painting depicted an indistinct study. Outside its floor-to-ceiling glass window stretched a vast, desolate icefield, the expanse of heaven and earth draped in pure white snow. Lokins's figure seemed both inside the room and melting into that endless white, a pair of eyes like frozen ice—chilly, unapproachable, and overflowing with aloof disdain for the world. [Portrait: Icefield] [Type: Art] [Quality: Sacred] [Tier: 1] [Creatures who admire this painting have a chance to feel awe toward the man depicted and consume a small amount of condition to gain artistic enlightenment.] Unlike a painting completed on the spot in a few hours, this piece had been prepared and refined by Lokins over time prior to the exam, specifically to submit to the exam committee. Its degree of completion was far higher than what the vast majority of examinees could achieve on the exam floor. In just a few hours on site, creating a painting that surpassed one pre-crafted by an active Platinum-rank card maker was virtually impossible. Thus, according to past precedent, scores above ninety-five rarely ever appeared across the four testing regions. Of course, passing didn't require reaching such heights. One only needed to score higher than whatever work Assistant Examiner Countess Rosalinda produced on the spot for the prompt. "How is this examiner even nicer than Mikhail?" "He really is too gentle. A few candidates gave him a hellish time in the first round, and he still gave them high marks." "He waved through a massive batch of passing scores in round one, even letting several snag grade points. Now he's chief examiner for round three, and he's handing out sky-high artistry scores all over again." "And he really isn't afraid of Lokins's fan base coming after him, is he? If he keeps scoring like this, Lokins's forehead is going to turn pitch-black." The audience in the stands chatted intermittently about this year's mysterious examiner. He had brought theatrical flair with him since round one, and sure enough, he remained thoroughly unconventional in round three. He embodied generosity toward others coupled with unyielding impartiality. "I get the feeling this mysterious examiner gets along great with Countess Rosalinda. Lokins gave Rosalinda no face, and as branch president she has to keep the bigger picture in mind and can't say much, but this guy clearly doesn't give a damn about anything. He's straight-up putting Lokins in his place." One could only say that certain newcomers simply didn't care about seniority, prestige, or worldly tact. They did what had to be done. *"Silence. This venue is not for idle gossip."* Lokins's voice boomed out, and the Sacred Silver Vine Arena quieted down considerably. The commoners of Palieu didn't fear him much, but certain aristocrats and magnates held their tongues, wary of potential conflicts of interest. Lokins was, after all, a Platinum-rank card maker within the headquarters management. "Hahaha! This mysterious examiner is so funny! Brother, is there any way you can invite him to our house for dinner? I want to throw him a grand feast!" Christina kicked her legs with glee. Being scolded by Lokins through the screen during the second round a few days ago had already annoyed her immensely. That guy had a screw loose, lecturing the audience through a screen and refusing to let anyone speak of him. "Father knows Countess Rosalinda, but the countess wouldn't possibly reveal an examiner's identity," Kyle said, shaking his head. "Useless big brother! Think of something!" Christina criticized him without holding back. "Meow..." Boss Cat couldn't bring itself to tell her that this examiner was her family's butler. And she couldn't stand him, to boot. Ten minutes later. Another candidate entered the conference hall on the giant holographic screen, presenting a piece to the review desk. "Oh, Senior Karen is finally done!" Christina looked thrilled, nudging Inoan beside her to look at their school's senior. "She's the most famous genius magical engineer to come out of Aloran Royal Academy in recent years! She might even rival Duke Mikhail in his youth!" Christina felt she had an exceptional eye for talent. Securing Inoan as a perfect personal maid and friend was proof enough. "She... Mikhail..." Inoan pressed a hand to her forehead, as if something had flashed across her vision. "You've heard of Duke Mikhail before, right?" Christina asked, immediately supporting her shoulder with concern. If Inoan had actually met Duke Mikhail in the past, it might serve as a trigger to awaken part of her memories. "He was so handsome when he shone in the Kingdom of Posen back then. Even the Platinum-rank card maker exam looked like child's play to him," Christina added, hoping to offer a helpful clue. "Mikhail... he? Wasn't she a black-haired girl?" Inoan murmured blankly, as though her memories were hopelessly jumbled. "Sigh." Christina could only let out a breath. It seemed Inoan truly couldn't recover her memories anytime soon, given that she thought Mikhail was a woman. Inoan shook her head in utter bewilderment and stopped dwelling on the phantom clue. Christina turned her eyes back to the artificial shadow world. By now, Karen's work had been unveiled. Her self-portrait was set against a minimalist background—a stark white wall. Her own figure was rendered primarily in light hues, as though tearing a brilliant aperture through the austere canvas. Her long hair cascaded smoothly over her shoulders without any affected styling. Her dress bore no adornments, yet the crisp fabric was carried by her straight back and poised posture, outlining her petite and shapely curves. Most arresting was the expression on Karen's face. Her features were delicate, and within those emerald eyes burned a miniature sun—warm, blazing, and dazzling to behold. She seemed to look down upon the masses, radiating an innate, restrained pride and vitality. "This painting carries a powerful modernist flair, using the most grounded realism to construct a thoroughly fantastical effect," Lanqi commented with a stylus tablet in hand, a slight curve at the corner of his lips. [Portrait: Flawless White] [Type: Art] [Quality: Sacred] [Tier: 1] [Creatures who admire this painting have a chance to recover a small amount of mana, suffer a slight reduction to mental magic resistance, and harbor a slight probability of developing romantic affection toward the woman depicted.] The audience was already quite astonished upon seeing the appraisal result on screen. Producing a Sacred-grade painting on the spot signaled that she possessed the potential to rival the demonstration piece, *Portrait: Icefield*. The specific multidimensional score still depended on the chief examiner's judgment. Generally speaking, managing to produce a damaged Sacred-grade painting fitting the prompt under tight time limits and impromptu conditions was already remarkable; an undamaged Sacred piece was outright incredible. Aiming any higher, however, was practically impossible. A chasm lay between Sacred and Epic. Even legendary master painters throughout history produced only a handful of Epic-grade artworks in their entire lifetimes. It wasn't something that could be produced on the fly or planned out in advance; it required the stars to align for the canvas to attain perfection. In the end, the chief examiner jotted down an eighty-eight for her. "Wild. Totally wild." "He really has the guts to score that high." Chortles and amused chatter swept the stands once more. In the eyes of artisans outside who understood art appreciation, Karen's painting was indeed excellent, and a score between seventy-five and eighty-five would have been entirely reasonable. Going over eighty-five was practically treating Lokins like dirt. Across the real-time link, Inspector Lokins saw the score, and the pen in his hand gave a faint, splintering crack. *"..."* Lokins now felt this fellow named Lanqi was genuinely courting death, daring to award a mere Gold-rank examinee's impromptu piece a score so close to his own meticulously prepared work. "Examiner, could you share your thoughts on my painting?" Karen asked with a smile toward the chief examiner. Though he had seemed rather thickheaded and inept during the first round, the score he gave proved he harbored no prejudice against her—in fact, it was much higher than she had anticipated. "...If the essence of avant-garde art lies in breaking conventional visual presentation through the simplest forms and brushwork, then this piece undoubtedly belongs in the halls of contemporary masterpieces," the chief examiner praised. Yet he didn't elaborate much further. Karen curtsied to him, turned, and departed. A smirk danced in her eyes. Exams, wagers, and men were all trivial child's play. She was now convinced this examiner was truly a hack who knew nothing. After coasting through the first round, he was simply coasting through the third as well. Still, as long as he gave her high marks, she had no complaints. ... The shadow world conference room fell quiet for another moment. Lanqi hadn't set his tablet down for long before noticing Countess Rosalinda beside him gesturing toward her canvas. Countess Rosalinda had finally completed her painting as assistant examiner. "Please, score my work, Chief Examiner," Rosalinda said, deliberately mimicking the humble tone of an examinee. "Very well." Lanqi smiled. Even Countess Rosalinda acting like a young girl felt more natural than *that one*. For today's Eastern Region Platinum-rank exam, the score the chief examiner awarded her would dictate the passing threshold for the entire session, making this the most pivotal appraisal of all. Both inside the hall and across the stands outside, many spectators sat up straighter, fixing their eyes on the piece presented by the assistant examiner. The painting depicted a windowsill. Behind the glass stood a lone woman holding a wineglass, her other hand gently pressed against the pane. Pattering rain fell against the glass, seeming to drape over her face, leaving one uncertain whether the water belonged to the rain outside or tears on her cheeks. Though her figure was slightly blurred by the misty rain, she clearly bore an expression mingling sorrow and joy, evoking pity while revealing an abundance of spirit. [Portrait: Rainy Night in the Mirror] [Type: Art] [Quality: Sacred] [Tier: 1] [Creatures who admire this painting have a chance to deepen their understanding of 'wine' and gain minor improvements in brewing and wine-tasting techniques.] Lanqi took a look and jotted down a ninety-seven without the slightest hesitation. Instantly, the attention of the entire Sacred Silver Vine venue snapped from the painting to the chief examiner. The benchmark piece from headquarters had only received a ninety-five. If Countess Rosalinda's casual effort earned a ninety-seven, it implied the benchmark was nothing special. More importantly, even if an examiner exercised the discretionary adjustment to drop the threshold by ten points, the passing line would still be eighty-seven. That meant almost no one in the Eastern Region's third round would pass, save for Karen from the Kingdom of Aloran with her eighty-eight. "Don't make it so nobody can pass," Rosalinda warned, a little flustered. She hadn't expected Lanqi to think so highly of her work. Moreover, to some degree, it proved that the preceding candidates hadn't performed exceptionally well; rather, he had simply handed everyone inflated scores. "It's fine. I'll use the examiner's discretionary power to lower the passing mark by ten points. Having you serve as assistant examiner was already overpowered, and your execution today was remarkably good," Lanqi answered. *"I believe her score is too high. Chief Examiner, please state your reasoning."* This time, Lokins could no longer hold back. He was half a step away from outright barking, *What the hell are you doing scoring like a lunatic?* Yet the less composed he appeared, the more undignified it looked. He was forced to swallow his rage and communicate with the chief examiner as though nothing were amiss. "Uh, we can go by your judgment, then," Lanqi agreed without arguing or debating. "How much should I lower it?" *"Adjust it to ninety-two."* This left Lokins feeling profoundly irritated. Lanqi's tone felt like humoring him, like punching a wad of cotton. In a way, Lanqi's manner of speaking resembled a superior dealing with a subordinate. "Alright, we'll do as you say. If it's changed to ninety-two, I'll only need to adjust it down by five points later." Lanqi lowered the scoring tablet. Hearing that, Lokins felt as though Lanqi was treating him like an utter idiot. Lanqi had originally planned to use his examiner discretion to lower the ninety-seven threshold to eighty-seven. By changing it to ninety-two per Lokins's demand, the final cutoff remained eighty-seven. It amounted to nothing more than going through the motions to placate Lokins. In essence, the underlying insult hadn't changed one bit. *"Chief Examiner, consider yourself warned. Your performance since round one has made it clear that your capabilities as a card maker are severely deficient. If any examinee questions or challenges your scoring later, I will handle it with the utmost severity. I will show zero tolerance for any examiner lacking professional competence, ethics, and ability who dares occupy this seat while doing nothing."* Lokins's words fell like sharp icicles slicing through the silence of a winter night. Rosalinda's breath hitched in panic. If headquarters dealt with him severely, Lanqi risked having his Platinum rank revoked at worst. "..." Lanqi merely shrugged at her with a helpless smile. Rosalinda thought it over and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. This sort of effortless confidence was something she had only ever seen in Mikhail. If anything, Lanqi took it even further. The ultimate insult lay in the fact that the artificial shadow world's integrity verification system was designed to flag arbitrary scoring. That Lanqi hadn't been flagged meant he genuinely considered the benchmark painting mediocre. Yet, even after Lokins's pointed prompt, no examinee stepped forward to issue a challenge. The chief examiner had been genuinely kind to all of them. Never mind the first round; here in the third round, he had repaid hostility with grace, awarding them generous marks until the candidates felt almost embarrassed. Those who failed wouldn't reach the passing threshold even if they challenged it, and those who fell short had still earned grade points thanks to his high marks, giving them no reason to complain. ... In the Sacred Silver Vine Arena. Having exited the artificial shadow world, Karen sat in the audience with her arms crossed, watching the giant screen with immense satisfaction. Her scores in the first two rounds were slightly higher than that old woman Tata's. As long as she stayed ahead or roughly matched her in this round, victory was hers. And obviously, even this examiner wouldn't give Tata an unreasonable score. Soon, she would be able to chase that woman away from Lanqi's side, and then properly toy with that cute little darling. If he truly became an Eighth-tier supreme powerhouse one day, she might even consider him. By now, the majority of examinees were finishing their paintings in a concentrated wave. Before long, just after a candidate submitted a work, a grey-haired, gold-eyed figure arrived with her canvas. The chief examiner looked like he had been waiting for this. The instant he saw the grey-haired girl, he perked up noticeably. "..." Countess Rosalinda gave Lanqi a speechless look. She was the sole person who knew the true nature of Lanqi and Tata's relationship. To outsiders, they were candidate and examiner, but in truth, they were senior and junior apprentices whose dynamic defied easy definition. From Lanqi's subtle reactions alone, one could tell their everyday interactions were far too frequent. If she had to describe their relationship, Rosalinda was reminded of a story that talking black cat had once shared with her—about a biologist named Pavlov who ran a conditioned reflex experiment. Whenever he rang a bell, the dog would salivate, knowing it was lunchtime. The cat had heard it from Lanqi, who used the story to vividly illustrate "what Lanqi believed his relationship with Tata to be." In reality, Countess Rosalinda realized that the one being domesticated wasn't just the dog, but Pavlov himself. "Tata. Recommended examinee from the Hutton Kingdom. Unmarried. Age twenty-five." The chief examiner picked up his tablet, glanced over the registration info, and confirmed it with the examinee. "...?" Talia was certain no other examinee had to endure this formality. Yet when it came to her details, Lanqi insisted on reading them aloud to open the exchange, making it hard to tell what point he was trying to emphasize. Her eyes grew icy, as though she couldn't wait to capture Lanqi for the sixth time. Lanqi's gaze flickered with fleeting fear, as if silently warning her: *Don't lay a hand on the examiner, okay?* Tata's look, meanwhile, conveyed: *Just try not coming home with me today.* "Ahem." Countess Rosalinda had to clear her throat. Even without this back-and-forth, many in the audience could have guessed the two already knew each other. In a Platinum-rank card maker exam, acquaintances between examiner and candidate weren't uncommon. What was more, both hailed from the Hutton Kingdom. The first round had already shown that this Tata was exceedingly kind to the examiner, preferring to forfeit points rather than interrogate him. Lanqi collected himself, shifting his gaze from Talia to her painting. To be frank, this was his first time seeing Talia paint. She had chosen a remarkably unique perspective, capturing her own back on the canvas. In the painting, she glanced back over her shoulder, her face slightly pale, the lines of her cheeks crisp and firm. Her grey hair tumbled down her back, and within those half-glimpsed golden eyes lay what seemed to be a scrutiny of the entire world, or perhaps a farewell. No one knew what she saw. Perhaps her homeland, perhaps old friends; perhaps an obsession, perhaps letting go. [Portrait: Glancing Back] [Type: Art] [Quality: Sacred] [Tier: 1] [Those who admire this painting will recover a tiny amount of mana and have a chance to permanently increase their maximum mental attribute by a tiny amount, once only.] "As beautiful as ever." The moment Lanqi saw the painting, a relieved smile spread across his face. On the scoring tablet, he awarded her a ninety-seven—the exact same score he gave Countess Rosalinda. Outside the venue. "He really dared give that score? Isn't he afraid Lokins will divert all his hatred for Mikhail straight onto him?" "It does look stunning, but I can't quite tell the difference between these Sacred-grade paintings." "Maybe he's just scoring by mood? As long as the system doesn't flag a violation, who cares?" If the chief examiner genuinely lacked an eye for art, even the artificial shadow world's integrity system couldn't detect any flaw. *"Enough, Chief Examiner. Step down from there. I will handle the scoring."* Lokins finally abandoned all pretense of civility. "Wait, Mr. Lokins..." Countess Rosalinda moved to mediate, but Lanqi raised a hand to stop her. Talia sighed. She felt Lanqi didn't need to go above ninety-five; a ninety-three would have been plenty to beat Karen. Still, seeing Lanqi appreciate her painting so much that he didn't mind offending headquarters officials just to give her a matching high score made her quietly pleased. She supposed she could make him breakfast for a few more days. "Wait, brother, is there something wrong with my scoring?" Lanqi looked toward the source of Lokins's broadcast. *"The Artistry exam is not a playground for your personal whims. It should be handled by someone far more professional. From this day forward, you will no longer oversee Platinum-rank card maker exams—in fact, you might lose your Platinum rank entirely."* Lokins delivered the cold proclamation. "Subjectively speaking, I wanted to give it a hundred because she truly is that beautiful. But out of an examiner's strict objectivity, I held back and gave a technical score of ninety-seven. Am I still not objective enough?" This time Lanqi didn't back down. Refusing to adjust the score, he looked toward Lokins's screen and challenged him. Such unvarnished praise sent an instant ripple of commotion through the stands of the Sacred Silver Vine Arena. Talia turned her head away in slight embarrassment. She couldn't tell whether Lanqi was sincerely complimenting her or intentionally saying such things in public to put her on the spot for his own amusement. Yet when her eyes met Lanqi's, she found her answer— It was both. *"Are you deliberately putting your ignorance and fraud on display for everyone to see?"* Lokins demanded. "Then what counts as knowledgeable and genuine to you? I could give you face and lie, telling you this painting is only a ninety compared to your ninety-five. Or I could speak the truth and tell you where your real skill lies." Lanqi had no interest in coddling an aristocrat raised in the pampered lap of luxury in the Cambell Kingdom. If others were afraid to teach him a lesson, Lanqi would state the facts plainly. Just as the chief examiner and the inspector locked horns, making the spectators feel their ticket money was more than well spent, notifications seemed to ping simultaneously for Inspector Lokins, Chief Examiner Lanqi, and Assistant Examiner Countess Rosalinda. A message soon flashed across the projection screen as well. An examinee had reported the examiner, triggering an Examiner Challenge. Even though it was anonymous, Lanqi and Tata instantly knew who it was. It had to be Karen. Because even though Karen would pass, she couldn't win her wager against Tata. She would never accept losing to her. Lodging a report against the chief examiner right now naturally played into Lokins's hands. If Lokins brought down the chief examiner and assigned Tata a lower score, Karen could turn defeat into victory. Meanwhile. Inside a lounge in the Sacred Silver Vine Arena. Karen manipulated her examinee terminal with a smile, reporting the chief examiner to the Card Makers Association. Yet the moment she stepped outside, her face darkened instantly. "Stupid chief examiner. And here I thought you were a decent person," she muttered, her lips trembling. On one hand, she hadn't expected Tata to truly be this formidable; on the other, she hadn't imagined the mysterious chief examiner knew Tata as well, coddling that grey-haired woman to such an extent. No matter. With Lokins involved, whether that grey-haired woman could even pass was now in question. Just thinking about it made a smile bloom across her cheeks, which she gradually reigned in to resume her customary, pleasant demeanor before heading back to her seat. ... Inside the artificial shadow world, within the simulated conference hall of Parkinson Palace. *"Very well. According to regulations, Rosalinda, swap places with the chief examiner. If his demonstration fails to surpass the minimum passing line of eighty-seven he established, I will have every right to declare that the chief examiner lacks adequate practical ability, is unfit for the post, and willfully disrupted exam protocol."* Lokins had already begun the procedure following his intervention as inspector. *"Furthermore, with an inspector actively involved, my authority supersedes that of an interim chief examiner under review conditions. Your final score will be determined by me,"* Lokins added sternly. "But your end isn't even hooked into the integrity registration system! Even if he produces an exceptional painting, you could easily slap him with a seventy!" Countess Rosalinda couldn't sit still and voiced her objection. Even though Lokins was an inspector, he was fully capable of acting shamelessly out of spite. Based on historical precedent, an undamaged pink Sacred-grade piece was guaranteed at least a seventy. If Lokins acted even more brazenly, he might hand down a sixty-nine. Even if it sparked public outrage, no one could truly hold him accountable, as not everyone understood art. *"Oh? Are you doubting my integrity, Branch President Rosalinda?"* Lokins's expression remained icy. "It's fine. I'll show off a bit." On the contrary, Lanqi wore a bright smile, waving Countess Rosalinda off. "Since it's inconvenient for me to paint a self-portrait, I'll paint a portrait of any examinee instead, correct?" This was a decision agreed upon by Card Makers Association headquarters and the Kingdom of Posen's Senate due to the situation on the Southern Continent—Lanqi did not have to show his face, and his identity held top priority. *"Correct."* Lokins didn't care who Lanqi planned to paint. Association guidelines already stipulated that if an examiner with a protected identity was challenged, the task would shift to painting an examinee, which also allowed a clearer comparison between candidate and examiner. Painting anyone would yield the same result. "Still..." Rosalinda felt anxious. In all her calculations, she hadn't foreseen a candidate reporting Lanqi at this juncture. In truth, once a report was filed, an examiner had avenues to uncover the candidate's identity. Unless the examiner was plainly in the wrong, examinees rarely dared pull such stunts. "I did handle the first round poorly. Although having my assistant vanish under special circumstances left me a bit rattled, that's no excuse," Lanqi said to Countess Rosalinda with an apologetic tone, before smiling with complete composure. "But for round three, it's all the same with or without her. I believe my scoring was correct, and I will not permit any unfairness in this exam. Lokins, if you still want to give me a low score after seeing my painting, by all means." As long as Lokins dared weather the public backlash. Lanqi looked up at Lokins on the screen. *"Who do you think you are?"* Lokins sneered in disdain. Even if Hutton produced a second Mikhail, the man wouldn't dare wear such a confident expression. He wanted nothing more than to see this chief examiner reduced to a pathetic clown in a moment. No matter what, he wouldn't award a single point above seventy today, thoroughly humiliating this bumpkin from the east. Lanqi said nothing more. Outside the shadow world. "Wait, no matter what he paints, Inspector Lokins will just lie through his teeth!" "Is he seriously agreeing to Lokins's review?" "What else can he do?" "Backing down would've been better. At least headquarters could send a more impartial inspector next time to review him." Under the gaze of thousands in the Sacred Silver Vine Arena, Lanqi began painting at the side of the conference hall without even pausing to prepare. "Could you help me out?" Lanqi looked up at Tata, who remained in the room, gesturing slightly for her to step a bit closer. "..." Talia nodded. It seemed Lanqi had chosen her as his model. She didn't mind him painting her. Besides, Lanqi had listened to her instructions well; he hadn't painted her in secret this time. "Phew." Lanqi watched Talia take a seat nearby, finding the sight wondrous as a natural smile touched his face. Over a year ago, he would never have imagined a day where Talia would sit so quietly before him, serving as his model and letting him paint her. Outside in the Sky Sovereign Pavilion, Boss Cat sat in the Batiste family box, nerves strung taut. Seeing Lanqi pick up a brush filled it with dread. Only when it remembered Lanqi was painting rather than crafting a card did it realize it had overreacted. At least the fellow's paintings didn't explode. From the rack of brushes, Lanqi finally selected one with a reddish handle. "A tribute to the legendary artist, the Tenth Progenitor, Ulysses." Lanqi gazed at the brush in his hand, recalling an old acquaintance. This was the second enemy he found unforgettable, right after Old Sang. "..." Talia felt this was a terrible habit of Lanqi's. Any opponent he defeated was doomed to receive endless tributes from him for the rest of time. Lanqi skillfully blocked out the composition and began his strokes. Watching the figure in the distance, his eyes couldn't conceal his amusement and joy. Painting Talia made him genuinely happy. Though he had lost count of how many times he had painted her, he felt this portrait would be the truest of all. Perhaps when they first crossed paths near the temple, neither had taken note of the other, yet the story had begun right then. Whenever he counted his gains and transformations over the past year, drawing ever closer to his retirement goal, it was easy to recall the moment he first set that objective. Like waking from a dream or sobering from wine, the memories of his past life as an art director felt more like a dream bestowed by the Goddess of Fate—illusory and ethereal. By contrast, his memories as Lanqi felt infinitely more real, remaining steadfast from beginning to end. The timer on the conference wall ticked away. Outside the shadow world, spectators could only watch the chief examiner's silhouette and the back of the easel, whispering eagerly in anticipation. How this tumultuous exam would draw to a close would soon be revealed. As the sky outside the Sacred Silver Vine Arena deepened into dusk, slipping toward twilight, Lanqi's painting was finally complete. He stood up, turning the easel toward the audience. On the canvas was a grey-haired woman. A pigeon in flight obscured her face. Yet on closer inspection, one could faintly glimpse her golden eyes. The obstruction only intensified one's burning curiosity about what she looked like. Only when drawing closer could one see clearly— She was looking back at you, too. That fleeting glance alone was enough to etch itself into memory forever. [Portrait: Enigmatic Beauty] [Type: Art] [Quality: Epic] [Tier: 1] [Creatures who admire this painting will experience a moderate improvement in mood and have a chance to gain a minor mental magic buff for 24 hours.] "?" At that instant, Tata, who had sat motionless as his model, couldn't conceal the stir of emotion in her eyes. Though she had seen Lanqi's Epic-grade paintings before and wasn't overly surprised, this piece still made her heart skip a beat. Only she knew that this painting echoed the very first portrait Lanqi had ever made of her. It was like the two sides of their meeting, captured from different vantage points. And the person standing across from her in this painting's perspective was, without question, Lanqi. The weight in Countess Rosalinda's chest vanished the moment she saw the painting. "Inspector, do you have the courage to award him anything other than a hundred?" She wore a relieved smile, looking toward the live link screen where Lokins sat frozen. Rosalinda finally understood why Lanqi was so confident! Rather than an appraisal, it was simply that the scoring ceiling stopped at one hundred, forcing a crude numerical cap upon an Epic masterpiece. The Card Makers Association's assessment of Lanqi's artistic ability was completely off the mark. Calling him an ordinary compass-type specialist was wrong; he was an utterly transcendent outlier. Across the Sacred Silver Vine Arena's halls, the moment the painting was unveiled, an eerie silence fell over the entire stadium. Everyone seemed stunned beyond measure, their breath catching in their throats. Finally, an electrifying cheer erupted from a corner of the stands. The cry ignited the atmosphere, and soon more spectators surged to their feet. Cheers, applause, and spirited debates exploded through the venue. "The concept of this painting isn't even on the same plane as the earlier works! It's steeped in surrealist romance, challenging the viewer's conventional understanding of reality through bizarre visual elements!" "The chief examiner seems to explore the themes of concealment and revelation, seeing and being seen, while provoking thought on identity, existence, and metaphor!" Many in the stands could no longer stay seated, launching into impassioned analysis. "Perhaps... it's a symbolic reflection on an individual's role in society, and humanity's urge to conceal their true self?" "Just who on earth is this chief examiner? Could it be Mikhail in disguise?" "No, impossible! Mikhail is an all-rounder, but his painting was never this outrageous!" Lokins's face went completely black. He uttered not a single word, severing the live connection after a moment of heavy silence. Rosalinda smiled and gestured to Lanqi, signaling that his seat as chief examiner was his once more. His scoring today had been entirely justified. Indeed, today he was the absolute authority. Lokins, meanwhile, had been made into the clown of clowns; jokes at his expense were bound to circulate throughout the Western Hub. This Sunday evening marked not just the conclusion of the Platinum-rank card maker exam, but a spectacle where over ten thousand spectators cheered, high-fived, and roared that their tickets were worth far more than they had paid, creating an unprecedented wave of exhilaration. Having witnessed a miracle, the crowd couldn't contain their excitement, their lavish praise echoing long through the arena. ... A few minutes later, elsewhere. In the corridor leading out of the Sacred Silver Vine Arena. Karen hurried down the path. Her eyes were laced with bloodshot veins, brimming with bitter resentment and fury. Then panic crept into her stride, and she glanced back, quickening her pace. Suddenly, as if colliding with a mountain, she tumbled onto the floor. Before she knew it, a grey-haired woman stood before her, flanked by a man in a silver mask. "You weren't planning on running, were you?" Tata leaned down, staring into Karen's evasive eyes. "Tata, don't scare her." The masked man patted Tata's shoulder with concern, casting an apologetic look at Karen. "Chief... Examiner?" Karen asked, her voice unsteady. Compared to Tata appearing here, she couldn't fathom why the chief examiner was trailing behind her. In fact, Tata was tugging on the chief examiner's tie, as if forcing him to obey her every whim. That familiar dynamic instantly reminded Karen of the easygoing man from the Card Makers Association the other day, who had also been dragged along by his collar by Tata. "No, you're not him... you can't be him..." Karen's eyes widened, a trembling smile pulling at her lips as she shook her head repeatedly. Clues flashed through her mind in an instant, and dreadful realizations began taking shape, threatening to shatter her perception of reality. "I'm not," the chief examiner could only comfort her, hoping she wouldn't take the blow too hard. Yet that placating, child-coddling tone made Karen's composure crumble even faster. "No, no...!!" Karen shook her head frantically, unable to accept the truth. The usual vitality had vanished from her face, replaced by a hollow gaze that seemed to suspect the entire world was an illusion. Every mockery she had directed at Lanqi back at Ikerite Academy, and every gentle response Lanqi had given, echoed in her ears like an inescapable curse. She searched desperately for an exit to escape reality, but could find no way out! "Do you still remember our wager?" Talia asked, showing no mercy. "Wh-what are you talking about?" Karen stared back blankly. Talia nodded. Seeing Karen's state, she knew the girl truly wanted to renege. Then again, Talia had never expected Karen to honor a verbal bet in good faith. Pledges were of paramount importance to Talia. All the more so for demon royalty. "If you try to back out, I will make public everything you said to him, all the taunts you hurled at him in the School of Sages' Ancient Tower Library, and the fact that you secretly reported him. I imagine you wouldn't want to fall from your pedestal as queen of Aloran Royal Academy and become a wretched clown, would you?" Talia lowered her voice, whispering into Karen's ear with an enchanting cadence. Her voice took on a hypnotic quality, leaving Karen dizzy, her world spinning. "No, don't do that!" Karen grabbed Talia's leg, looking up and weeping. "Then fulfill your promise," Talia said, her voice slowing further. Only in that instant, meeting those golden eyes, did a bone-chilling dread wash over Karen, nearly freezing her tears. Terror consumed her heart. She felt this woman named Tata possessed a dangerous mana capable of destroying her at any moment. A demon, through and through. Yet Karen couldn't accept it. Having just earned her status as a Platinum-rank card maker, committing such a shameless act would leave her unable to carry on with her life! "Out of pity for you, I'll allow you to wear a mask," Talia said, crouching down to look at Karen gently. Karen trembled, feeling as though she were stripped bare in an icy gale, pierced by the gaze of this grey-haired, gold-eyed woman. After a long struggle, broken words slipped from her trembling lips: "I... I promise." "Hm? How should you address me?" Talia pressed. "Lady Tata..." Karen's voice was so faint it nearly evaporated. "Very good. We'll set it on the day of the Fireworks Festival. Report to the entrance of the Card Makers Association in the morning, and I'll arrange your attire." Fighting back her terror and tears, Karen nodded, summoned every ounce of her strength, and fled. Once Karen had vanished from sight, Lanqi spoke up, puzzled. "Tata, isn't that a bit malicious?" He genuinely felt Tata resembled a demon queen right now. Karen hadn't realized the trap yet. Tata's concession seemed like room for Karen to bear the humiliation, but it was actually forcing her to yield step by step. Lanqi seemed to have read Tata's thoughts: she wanted Karen to wear a men's swimsuit. When the time came, Karen would have to cling desperately to a sign reading *I was wrong, Lady Tata* to shield what remained of her dignity. Yet he was certain that since Karen had conceded the first step, she would concede a second and a third, until she was thoroughly tamed by Tata. "Hmph. A scheming little fox like that deserves to be trained into a lowly sow." Talia dusted her hands off, looking thoroughly pleased. "You're terrifying. Did you absorb Lanfu's personality too?" Lanqi felt the Poet of Great Love's quirks had been fully integrated into Talia; sadistic notions like this were usually the Poet of Great Love's domain. "Don't worry, Lanqi, I won't do that to you~" Talia actually mimicked the Poet of Great Love's voice to address him. For a moment, Lanqi couldn't tell whether Old Fu was back or Talia was just putting on an act. Come to think of it, with the First-tier Poet of Great Love, Lanqi had never worried about her turning on him. Now, however, the Eighth-tier Demon King of Mad Love made Lanqi feel that possibility for the first time. The more he thought about it, the more thrilling it seemed! "Wait, what is wrong with you?" Talia had thought she could spook Lanqi, and seeing him start to tremble almost made her laugh. Yet reading his thoughts made her want to punch him all over again! "Tata, the more you act like this, the more excited he gets. This guy is only drawn to the version of you that might actually kill him. If you treat him gently instead, he won't be interested in messing with you, meow," Boss Cat chimed in, finally popping out from the shadows. "Argh..." Talia clenched her fists in frustration. She began to understand. Fine... The next chance she got, she would treat Lanqi gently for an entire day and see if she couldn't disgust him to death!