Unparalleled

"Esteemed guests, please take your seats in the Hall of Heroes," King Yan said in a warm and welcoming tone.

Everyone's eyes lit up, knowing that the banquet at the royal mansion was about to begin.

"Master Yang, this way, please," the steward announced, ushering the guests from the side hall into the main area.

As Yang Fan and Yu Wenxin entered the Hall of Heroes together, they noticed that the once-spacious hall was now filled with guests of noble rank, leaving only a few prime seats available at the front. As the esteemed guests walked in, a sudden silence fell upon the hall, with hundreds of eyes immediately focusing on them.

Among them, Yu Wenxin was undoubtedly the center of attention. Her porcelain-like, ethereal beauty, fragile yet serene, captivated everyone in the room. She resembled a delicate piece of fine art, mesmerizing all who beheld her.

"Miss, Master Yang, please have a seat," the steward said, his face glowing with cordiality as he seated them together at the uppermost table, near the throne.

This was a seat of high honor, second only to the position of King Yan himself, highlighting just how much King Yan valued Yang Fan.

Clearly, both Yu Wenxin and Yang Fan were the main focus of today's banquet: she, the beloved daughter who had just recovered from a life-threatening illness, and he, the young physician King Yan sought to recruit.

Yang Fan remained calm as he sat down, feeling the weight of countless gazes upon him, but his expression was as steady as ever. Yu Wenxin, too, appeared composed, gracefully taking her seat with a soft smile directed at Yang Fan.

"Miss Yu Wen, do you often attend such gatherings?" Yang Fan asked with a smile, feeling somewhat out of place in this grand hall where he knew only a few people, save for the one person beside him.

"Not often," she replied softly. "I've been quite frail since childhood."

Her eyes inadvertently drifted to a certain corner of the hall, her gaze somewhat evasive.

Yang Fan, sensing something unusual, suddenly felt a cold, piercing stare directed at him like a blade of ice.

He glanced towards the source and saw a young man standing in a corner of the hall. His appearance was plain, but he wore immaculate white robes and carried an ancient, unadorned sword on his back. The youth cast a brief, indifferent glance at Yang Fan before his gaze softened as it settled on Yu Wenxin's face.

Wushuang?

Yang Fan hadn't expected to draw the attention of this figure. From the reactions of those around him, including King Yan's, it was clear this young man was no simple opponent.

Wushuang's gaze lingered on Yang Fan for just a moment before returning to Yu Wenxin. His once icy expression had turned noticeably warmer.

Yang Fan was surprised, sensing something unusual between the two. How could Yu Wenxin, who rarely left her home, be connected to Wushuang? What hidden stories lay between them?

Intrigued, Yang Fan's curiosity deepened. Both Yu Wenxin's rare condition, the "Nine Vein Mystical Pulse," and Wushuang's enigmatic path of cultivation were mysteries he was eager to unravel.

In a short time, the rest of the distinguished guests had taken their seats, filling nearly every spot in the grand Hall of Heroes, with only a few seats left unoccupied.

"Master Yang…" A familiar voice chimed in.

"Princess?" Yang Fan turned to see the playful Princess Yu Wen Zhi seated nearby, giving him a mischievous grin and sticking her tongue out at him.

By all rights, as a member of the royal family, the young princess should have been seated closer to King Yan. But tonight, Yang Fan had been placed in a higher position than her.

These subtle seating arrangements didn't go unnoticed by the keen-eyed guests, sparking quiet conversations among them.

"Could he be the miraculous physician who cured the second princess?"

"Most likely. I've never seen him in the capital before."

"But he's so young… Is he truly the legendary doctor who saved her?"

Some of the guests still murmured in doubt and amazement.

"Look, even Doctor Lu is here!" someone exclaimed, drawing attention to a new arrival.

Doctor Lu, one of the three legendary physicians of the capital, had just entered the hall, causing a stir among the guests.

"I thought Doctor Lu wasn't on good terms with King Yan. Why is he here?"

"Could it be that he's curious to see the physician who cured the second princess?"

Doctor Lu's complexion still looked slightly off, and he remained silent as he sat down.

"Doctor Lu," a rich, magnetic voice spoke from beside him. "What do you make of the new physician in King Yan's palace?"

Doctor Lu glanced over, slightly startled. "Third Prince?"

The man sitting next to him, a handsome figure in his thirties, was dressed simply but carried an air of refined nobility. Despite his humble attire, his demeanor was calm and dignified, far from the flamboyance typical of the aristocracy.

"Your Highness," Doctor Lu replied respectfully, "this young physician, Yang Fan, must be exceptionally skilled. He may well be on par with me."

The prince, though of royal blood, was of lower standing due to his humble origins as the son of a palace maid, despite later being legitimized.

"He's so young… Does he truly possess such extraordinary talent?" the prince asked, still somewhat skeptical.

"It's not surprising," Doctor Lu said softly. "In this vast world, there are always prodigies. Even in this very hall, there are a few. Like King Yan, for instance… or that young man in the corner—Wushuang."

The prince followed Doctor Lu's gaze to the corner where the white-robed youth sat. With a heavy sigh, the prince remarked, "Yes, Wushuang—only sixteen years old, and already he has defeated many renowned martial artists in the capital. Aside from my uncle, King Yan, and the legendary 'Martial Saint of Yuyang,' there's likely no one else in the capital who could match him."

At that moment, a powerful voice resounded through the hall. "The King has arrived!"

A figure in a regal azure robe embroidered with purple and jade entered from the side hall. It was King Yan himself, his expression solemn and imposing.

The entire hall fell silent. The atmosphere tightened under the weight of his silent authority.

Yang Fan noticed that when King Yan's gaze fell upon him and Yu Wenxin, it softened considerably. However, when the king's eyes reached a certain corner, they suddenly flashed with a fierce intensity. The atmosphere in the hall grew even more tense, as if a palpable pressure had descended upon everyone.

"Hmph!" King Yan snorted coldly.

Following his gaze, Yang Fan saw the white-robed Wushuang in the corner. The young man's eyes blazed with an unquenchable fighting spirit, meeting King Yan's gaze without flinching.

Wushuang? Could he be here to cause trouble?

The thought flashed through the minds of the guests as they watched the silent clash of wills between the two.

King Yan, however, withdrew his gaze, unwilling to engage further. He spoke in a measured tone. "Today's banquet is a celebration of Wenxin's recovery, and I extend my gratitude to all those who have honored us with their presence. But this feast is also held in recognition of the man who saved her life—Master Yang."

As he spoke, King Yan lifted his hand slightly, his eyes resting on Yang Fan, and even allowed a faint smile to grace his face.

For the first time in his life, Yang Fan found himself the focus of attention in such a grand gathering, feeling the weight of hundreds of gazes, some belonging to powerful cultivators. The pressure was undeniable.

But just then, Wushuang suddenly stood up, his sword aura flaring. His piercing gaze locked onto Yang Fan.

"Not good…" The old steward overseeing the banquet felt a chill run through him, his heart sinking.