"Divine beauty indeed..." the young merchant murmured, his voice barely audible as he drank in the sight before him. His legs trembled faintly, as if his body was reacting to an unseen force, his eyes utterly transfixed by the approaching group of women.

The old merchant Liu on the on the other hand, entranced, the wrinkles on his weathered face softening as his gaze lingered shamelessly. "Wh-What...?" he started, only to be cut off by a sharp slap from his companion.

"Avert your eyes, you foolish old goat!" the other elder hissed through gritted teeth, even as his own treacherous eyes flicked back towards the newcomers, pupils dilated.

A young man nearby couldn't tear his eyes away either, a thin trail of drool escaping the corner of his slack mouth. "Which sect...?" he mumbled distractedly, his question hanging in the air unanswered.

The harsh cluck of a matron's tongue cut through the thickening tension. "Shameless hussies!" she spat, her stern face flushing as she tugged her wide-eyed son behind the safety of her billowing blue cotton robes. "Look away, Mu'er! Their very presence pollutes this sacred ground."

As if parting a sea, the once-crowded onlookers instinctively shrank back, greedily guarding their vantage points to watch the Kunlun sparring matches. They made way without hesitation, an unbidden hush falling over the plaza as the group of women disciples entered.

Clad in flowing white robes with deep purple stripes, their faces remained veiled, but their attire was a daring departure from traditional martial arts garb.

The robes were designed to reveal, baring toned midriffs, exposing slim waists and the barest hints of porcelain skin. Long, shapely legs flashed beneath the flowing hems, bare shoulders left temptingly uncovered. With every sway of curving hips, the sweet, heady fragrance ofnight-blooming jasmine seemed to caress the senses.

A collective indrawn breath whistled through the crowd as these women disciples made to stride forward, but then the Kunlun Official Disciples stepped out to surround them, forming an impassable wall of bodies.

"The Emei Sect's presence was not requested at this gathering," one of the young men stated flatly, his gaze stern but respectful as it met the leader of the veiled group. Though he gripped a jian in his right hand, the blade remained pointed downwards in a clear showing of restraint. "We ask that you withdraw, with our humblest apologies."

A melodic laugh echoed from behind the lead Emei Sect disciple's veil, the sound like tinkling silver bells. "Young Master Murong..." she said, her voice a honeyed purr.

Her eyes rolled upward in a playful wink aimed squarely at Murong Yu, who stood ramrod straight on the vast wooden platform alongside Wu Gao. "Surely you aren't so inhospitable to fellow practitioners of the righteous path?"

Murong Yu shifted his weight, his brow furrowing slightly as he shook his head. "I'm afraid this matter lies outside my authority, Miss." His gaze flickered briefly over the rest of the Emei sect disciples, a graceful flock of swans amidst a churning sea of dirty, hungry peasants.

"A pity..." The veiled woman sighed, the sound sending a shiver of awareness rippling through the tense crowd. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties at most, undeniably the leader of this tantalizing troupe.

With the slightest tilt of her chin, she signaled the disciples behind her with a mere glance from the corner of her eye. They responded with minute nods, an unspoken conversation unfolding.

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"Outrageous!" Out of sudden, a gruff voice erupted from the throngs, shattering the moment. "Since when does Kunlun bar entry to the Orthodox sects?"

"The Emei sect have as much right to be here as anyone!" A chorus of shouts and agreements rose up, the crowd's earlier infatuation twisting into righteous indignation.

"Have you forgotten? The Emei sect also fought as heroes in the Great Battle!"

The previously mesmerized onlookers swiveled as one to glare accusingly at the stern wall of Kunlun disciples. But they remained utterly impassive, eyes locked on the Emei disciples with laserlike focus.

On the other hand, the Emei leader's eyes narrowed to slits beneath her veil, her lashes like the feathered wings of a phoenix in flight. Slowly, sensuously, she leaned closer to the rigid Kunlun disciple barring her path.

The faint blur of her pink lips was visible through the thin, swaying fabric as she sucked her bottom lip inward, "Then..."

Standing over six chi tall, the Emei Sect leader towered above the stern Kunlun disciple, her lithe shadow looming over his rigid form. Raven tresses cascaded freely down her back, bound only by a casual half-bun that somehow made her appear more dangerously alluring.

As she leaned in closer, the folds of her white martial robe parted ever so slightly, affording a tantalizing glimpse of porcelain skin and the barest suggestion of feminine curves beneath the swaying fabric.

"How about...we..." she breathed, the whispered words tickling the shell of his ear with the heat of her exhalation.

Perfectly manicured nails, polished a delicate rose pink, trailed lightly down the center of his chest as her body angled inward, closing the last scant distance between them.

For a long, charged moment, the Senior or the Official Disciple leader remained unnaturally still, his previously implacable demeanor faltering subtly. Even his fellow disciples ringed around the confrontation narrowed their eyes in confusion, awaiting his order to act.

Then, from somewhere amidst the ranks of veiled Emei beauties, came the softest giggle—the barest whisper of sound like the flick of a finger against silk.

FLICK!

One disciple smirked beneath her concealing veil, winking playfully at the stern young men facing her.

One of the Kunlun disciple being openly teased by the Emei leader blinked rapidly, as if awaking from a trance. A flush of warmth bloomed across his chest.

"Don't you dare lay a hand on our Brother!" he then finally noticed the unfolding tableau and surged forward, jian glinting in his grip as he prepared to strike the Emei leader down.

"Stay still, Feng Zhen!" The sharp bark of the Senior Kunlun Official Disciple's command cracked like a whip, attempting to halt the his Junior's impulsive charge, but...

CLANK!

"Oh my..." The lightweight rebuke drifted through the suddenly breathless air like a handful of scattered cherry blooms on a spring breeze.

In the blink of an eye, a slim, elegant figure materialized between the would-be attacker and his target—the same veiled beauty who had giggled so provokingly before.

With just the elegant tip of one rose-lacquered fingernail, she had effortlessly deflected the furious sword strike meant for her "Elder Sister."

"Attacking our Elder from behind?" She clucked her tongue in mild reproof. "How very...Kunlun."

A chorus of shocked murmurs rippled through the enthralled crowd at the impossible display of martial skill. "To block a sword strike with just her fingernail..."

"Get out!" On the other hand, Feng Zhen snarled, gritting his teeth until the muscles in his jaw danced with pent-up frustration.

He glared daggers at the audacious young woman, anger simmering in the depths of his dark eyes for a breathless moment—until his ear caught the barest whisper of sound from somewhere amidst the restless crowd.

FLICK!

A flick of fingers against silk, like the softest taunt.

"Despicable!" The cry rose up, harsh and accusing. "A Kunlun disciple, attacking a defenseless woman from behind!"

"And they call themselves righteous martial artist!" Another voice joined the chorus, dripping with disdain.

"Is this the honor of the great Kunlun Sect?"

What had been an expectant hush only moments before erupted into a roiling sea of fury. All eyes bored into Feng Zhen, who blinked owlishly as the weight of their condemnation crashed over him in waves.

"What? What did I—" His words faltered on his tongue as realization struck. He was still gripping his jian, the gleaming blade caught scant inches from the veiled beauty's unprotected back by her lazy fingertip guard. "I'm—it's not—" he stammered, trying vainly to explain himself.

But when his desperate gaze found his Senior Brother, their leader, the disappointment etched in the other's furrowed brow stole the protests from his lips.

"I believe there has been a misunderstanding," the Senior Official Disciple stated, his rich voice cutting through the din as he took a respectful step back, cupping his hands.

The towering Elder Sister withdrew, no longer pressed so inappropriately against him. "Please accept our sincere apologies, Miss," he continued.

"Oh dear, oh dear..." on the other hand, the Emei sect leader, or the Elder Sister, tsked softly, tutting in faint reproof as she turned to regard her Junior. "Junior Sister Yao, were you terribly injured by the rash young hero?"

"E-Elder Sister..." The slender figure clutched her wrist, cradling the hand that had so effortlessly deflected Feng Zhen's strike. Her soft voice quavered like a wounded songbird. "My hand, it...it aches so..."

But before she could continue weaving her tale of woe, another clear command rang out, cutting through the thickening tension.

"Let them enter." Wu Gao descended from the raised platform in measured strides. "The Elder has approved the Emei sect's presence."