The Duel of Hidden Intentions

Chapter 22: The Duel of Hidden Intentions

The hall was silent.

Ye Xian's words had barely settled, but the game had already begun.

"I never refuse a challenge."

A single sentence. But one that carried weight.

Han Yue's expression didn't change.

But she could sense it—the shift in his posture, the slight narrowing of his eyes.

He had expected hesitation. A moment of weakness.

And now, he had none.

The Emperor exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest of his seat.

"Very well," he said. "Then let it be a match worth witnessing."

A murmur ran through the court.

A duel. Before the Emperor. Before Jianghu's most powerful figures.

Ye Xian smiled faintly.

If Han Yue wanted to test her—then she would test him too.

The Battlefield Is Chosen

The banquet was quickly rearranged. Servants moved with quiet efficiency, clearing the central space of the hall.

A practice ground, not a killing field.

The duel would be a display—not a battle to the death.

But in Jianghu, a fight was never just a fight.

A duel was a conversation. A battle of status. A war between truths and lies.

And tonight—it would be a test of how much Ye Xian could afford to reveal.

She stepped forward calmly, shrugging off the outer layer of her physician's robe.

Her movements were smooth, practiced—not at all like a simple healer.

The murmurs in the court grew louder.

Han Yue took his position opposite her, adjusting the sleeves of his dark crimson robes. His sword remained sheathed at his side.

"Since this is a friendly match," he said, "weapons will not be necessary."

Ye Xian tilted her head slightly. "A battle of skill, then?"

Han Yue met her gaze. "Unless you would prefer otherwise?"

A test.

Ye Xian exhaled lightly. She wasn't foolish enough to bring out her poisoned needles here.

"No," she said smoothly. "This will do."

The First Exchange

The court fell silent as the two fighters took their stance.

Han Yue moved first.

A shift of weight—not an attack, but a probe.

Testing her reactions. Her instincts.

Ye Xian responded in kind—a measured step back, her breath steady.

She let him come closer.

Han Yue feinted—a quick movement to her left, his palm cutting through the air.

She didn't block it.

She didn't need to.

Instead—she flowed around it.

A dodge that was too clean. Too precise.

Han Yue's eyes sharpened slightly.

He had seen it too.

This was no simple physician.

A Shift in the Game

The next movements came faster.

Han Yue pressed forward—testing, pushing.

His strikes were precise, his footwork controlled.

But Ye Xian didn't fight like a soldier.

She fought like a shadow.

Slipping past his attacks. Redirecting them. Letting his own momentum work against him.

It wasn't about overpowering him. It was about control.

And in that moment—Ye Xian had it.

Han Yue's next strike came toward her ribs—quick, efficient.

But she had already moved.

A turn. A shift. A single step closer.

Then—her palm met his wrist, redirecting the force just enough to break his stance.

For a fraction of a second—Han Yue was off balance.

Not enough to make him fall.

But enough to make the entire court notice.

A flicker of surprise crossed his face.

Then, just as quickly—he countered.

The Moment of Unmasking

Ye Xian felt it before she saw it.

A change in Han Yue's stance.

A shift in his weight—not just as a fighter, but as a strategist.

He wasn't just testing her anymore.

Now—he wanted answers.

His next movement was sharper. Faster.

A sudden twist—his hand aiming not at her centerline, but at a very specific pressure point along her wrist.

A move meant to immobilize.

To capture.

To force a reaction.

Ye Xian's breath steadied.

Too late, General.

Before his fingers could press down—she moved.

A step forward, inside his reach. Too close for a counterattack.

Then—she shifted her weight, twisting just enough to redirect the momentum again.

Han Yue's grip faltered.

And in that instant—she struck.

A single motion—her fingertips grazing the inside of his wrist.

A light touch.

But Han Yue froze.

Because he recognized it.

Not an attack.

A warning.

A technique that did not belong to a physician.

But to an assassin.

The silence in the court was heavy.

Then—Han Yue exhaled.

A small smile touched his lips. Not of amusement, but of understanding.

He stepped back.

Ye Xian followed, returning to stillness.

The duel was over.

And Han Yue had his answer.

The Emperor's Verdict

The Emperor watched them both, his expression unreadable.

Then—he smiled faintly.

"A fine display," he said. "It seems our physician is full of surprises."

Ye Xian placed a hand over her heart and lowered her gaze slightly.

"I aim only to serve, Your Majesty."

A pause.

The Emperor's gaze flickered toward Han Yue.

"You are satisfied?"

Han Yue exhaled slowly. "For now."

The weight of the words did not go unnoticed.

But the test was over.

For now.

And Ye Xian had passed.

The One Who Watched Closely

As the court returned to conversation, Ye Xian felt another gaze on her.

Zhao Fengyun.

He was watching her, his usual smirk still in place—but his eyes sharper than before.

"You handled that well," he murmured, as she sat down beside him.

Ye Xian took a slow sip of tea. "Did I?"

Bai Zhen exhaled. "You just convinced half the court that you're far more than a healer."

Ye Xian tilted her head slightly.

"Did I?" she repeated.

Zhao Fengyun chuckled. "And now you're playing innocent. How charming."

Ye Xian set her cup down lightly.

The game wasn't over.

But for tonight—she had won.

And yet—something still wasn't right.

A lingering feeling.

A presence she had felt before.

She scanned the edges of the hall. The guests. The officials.

And then—she saw him.

Just for a moment.

A figure dressed in dark green robes.

The same one who had been watching her earlier.

The same one who might have tried to poison her.

And just as their eyes met—he turned and disappeared.

Ye Xian exhaled softly.

So.

The real fight was just beginning.

End of Chapter 22