The No. 1 Hunfen King in the Entire Server [Interstellar] Chapter 57

The orchestra struck up a waltz. In the grand, opulent hall, gentlemen invited ladies to dance. Dressed in dazzling gowns, noblewomen fluttered into the ballroom like butterflies.

Before long, Lin Jing was the only one left standing.

Occasionally, a nobleman would approach to ask him for a dance, but nearby ladies would always warn them off, saying his reputation was utterly disgraceful.

Bella clenched her fan in frustration and downed a glass of champagne.

Lin Jing, wary of her anger, tried to comfort her. “Bella, don’t be mad. I twisted my ankle in the garden just now—I can’t dance.”

Bella set her glass down and sneered. “Whether or not you can dance is beside the point. These women are like sewer rats—disgusting. They’ve always been jealous of your beauty, and now they’re seizing the chance to push you down.”

As if summoned by mention, Helena sauntered over from the dance floor, her emerald-green eyes full of mirth. “Christine, why are you still standing here alone?”

Bella snapped, dripping with sarcasm. “And what’s it to you?”

Helena smiled sweetly. “Why are you so worked up, Bella? I was talking to Christine. Does she not have a mouth of her own? Or do you need to answer for her?”

Before the conversation could escalate, an unexpected presence interrupted.

“Miss Christine, may I have the honor of this dance?”

John strode over, tall and broad-shouldered, his sharp gaze locking onto Lin Jing.

The three women froze.

Though John’s features were somewhat fierce, his attire and the sword at his waist clearly signified nobility.

Bella’s grip on her fan finally relaxed. She smirked triumphantly and cast Helena a disdainful glance.

Helena’s expression darkened before she smiled radiantly. “Apologies, sir, but I’m afraid my friend Christine cannot accept.”

Bella snapped. “Helena!” If Christine spent the entire evening uninvited, unable to dance even once, then by tomorrow, Eberon would be buzzing with gossip tarnishing her name even further.

Helena ignored her. “Christine already has someone she likes. The whole city knows. Isn’t that right?”

When John approached, Lin Jing had already shifted his focus away from their argument.

The burly man stood against the light, his smile polished and composed, but his eyes gleamed coldly—like a venomous serpent’s tongue, grazing over Lin Jing’s skin.

Every nerve in Lin Jing’s body tensed. He heard Helena’s words in the background. Stunned for a moment, he then slowly lifted his head and smiled softly. “Yes, Helena.”

If the whole city knew he had someone he liked, then… Cyril, do me a favor.

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t accept your invitation.”

“I already have someone I want to invite.”

With that, Lin Jing smiled, set down his glass, and lifted his gown as he walked away from the banquet hall.

Helena and John were both stunned.

Bella shouted in frustration, “Christine!”

But the young noblewoman seemed not to hear her.

The golden glow of candlelight outlined the hem of her dress, pure white like ocean waves. Lin Jing’s steps quickened, his skirts fluttering, revealing the delicate curve of his ankles.

Pushing through the crowd, the black-haired, brown-eyed girl strode toward the center of attention—toward the bard admired by all.

Countless eyes turned toward her in surprise and curiosity.

For a brief moment, even the music seemed to pause.

Lin Jing met his silver-blue eyes, both nervous and courageous. “Cyril, may I have this dance?”

The entire hall fell silent.

Lin Jing thought he would be rejected—honestly, that would be ideal since he couldn’t dance anyway. His only goal was to escape the persistent John.

Let his reputation take a hit if it had to. As long as he stayed in character, it didn’t matter.

But Cyril remained silent for a long time. Long enough for the surrounding whispers to turn into cruel gossip before he finally let out a sigh.

After a pause—perhaps to save Lin Jing from further embarrassment—the silver-haired young man lowered his gaze helplessly. “It would be my honor.”

The crowd: “!!!”

Lin Jing: “???”

Before he knew it, he was being led into the dance floor, utterly bewildered.

The soft, elegant melody of The Blue Danube filled the hall.

Lin Jing, panic written all over his face, was the first to speak. “Wait, Cyril, my foot is injured.”

Cyril: “I know.”

Lin Jing: “I can’t dance.”

Cyril’s gaze was serious. “Everyone is watching you.”

Lin Jing shut his mouth.

Dancing with another man wasn’t embarrassing for him. The problem was—he really couldn’t dance. And now, in heels, he had to follow the female steps: advancing and retreating, teasing, yielding, spinning—he was always a beat too slow.

As a result, he kept stepping on Cyril’s feet and bumping into him.

Cyril held back his patience for a long time before calmly asking, “Christine, are you doing this on purpose?”

“I’m not!” Lin Jing was now so embarrassed he wished he could fight second generation Scar Bro one-on-one instead.

Cyril said, “Relax. Talk to me.”

His hand rested on Lin Jing’s waist, and in the rhythm of the dance, silver hair and white skirts intertwined like a painting.

Lin Jing: “Talk about what?”

Cyril: “About that day.”

Lin Jing was confused.

Cyril spoke as if merely discussing the weather. “I apologize. I was startled at the time—I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position.”

Oh, that? It didn’t matter. After all, he wasn’t the one embarrassed.

Lin Jing said, “You did nothing wrong. It was me who was impolite.”

Cyril smiled slightly. As the dance neared its end, he handed Lin Jing a brooch—golden, layered with roses, elegant and noble, each petal intricately carved.

“Thank you.”

Lin Jing stared at it in confusion, holding it in his palm.

The first chime of the clock rang, signaling the approaching end of the ball.

Seizing the moment when John was occupied with chatting among nobles, Lin Jing hurried to the garden.

A rat in the corner of the wall kept jumping up and down, waving at him.

Lin Jing calmed himself, looked around to confirm safety, and then discreetly dropped the rat into his pocket.

The rat hit the rose brooch inside and yelped in pain, cursing. “What the h*ll is this?!”

Lin Jing: “A gift for you.”

The rat bristled. “Are you crazy?! Giving something like this to a rat?!”

Lin Jing: “You’re a rat, and yet you’re being picky? Just take it and shut up.”

Rat Bro: “…” Fine.

The palace was vast. Lin Jing found a maid, feigned illness, and was led to a resting chamber. The moment he entered, he kicked off those cursed high heels, pulled out a clean sheet of paper and a bottle of ink, and placed them in front of the rat.

“Quick.”

The rat raised its little paw, dipped it into the ink, and began sketching on the paper while speaking. “I found where the king lives—it’s on the top floor of the castle. But it’s heavily guarded, impossible to get in. The queen’s chambers have been sealed shut, doors and windows locked tight. As for the princess’s resting place, it’s even more peculiar. She’s in a separate tower at the corner of the palace, overgrown with thorns and guarded twenty-four hours a day.”

Lin Jing sat cross-legged, staring at the drawing for a long time. “Not a single one of these places is safe for us to enter.”

The rat snorted. “What’s the rush? I haven’t finished. I stayed in the queen’s room for a while and overheard two old palace maids gossiping about her. They were badmouthing her, saying that if she hadn’t been messing with dark magic in the basement, there wouldn’t have been a witch in the first place.”

Lin Jing froze. “A basement?”

“Yes!” The rat excitedly pressed its ink-stained paws onto the paper. “After that, I searched for the basement. Heaven rewards the diligent—I finally found it.”

“Where?”

“Right underneath this castle.”

“Let’s go.”

There was no time to waste. While the ball was still going on, Lin Jing grabbed the rat and headed for the basement. He considered putting his shoes back on, but after staring at the glass slippers for a while, he chose to go barefoot.

The rat: “What are you doing?”

Lin Jing: “Leaving myself an escape route.”

The palace floors were smooth marble, the corridors lined with expensive oil paintings.

Holding a candle in one hand for emergencies, Lin Jing followed the rat’s directions and exited through the back door into another garden.

The foliage was lush and overgrown, blood-red roses blooming amidst dew-drenched leaves. Fireflies flickered in the air, casting a golden glow upon the treetops. Carrying his lamp, Lin Jing walked barefoot along the cobblestone path. Fireflies gathered around him, and his pristine white dress brushed the ground soundlessly.

Finally, he found the narrow entrance—a nearly rotting wooden staircase.

Taking a deep breath, Lin Jing held up the lamp, lifted the hem of his skirt, and stepped inside with the rat.

A stale, long-sealed mustiness filled the basement. Cobwebs and dust floated in the air.

Lin Jing covered his nose and took a moment to adjust before placing the lamp on the table and looking around. Scrolls and books were scattered haphazardly, blocking the walkways. An already half-burnt candle sat on the table next to an ancient hourglass. The basement was cramped, with a massive bookshelf taking up nearly a third of the space.

Was this where the queen summoned the witch?

Carefully stepping over the books on the floor, Lin Jing wiped the dust off a chair before sitting down and rummaging through the cabinets.

The rat wasn’t idle either, relying on its small body to rummage around everywhere.

“Here, here! Look what treasure I’ve found!”

The rat suddenly shouted, using its two little paws to tug at a book on the top shelf of the bookcase, wobbling as it tried to pull it down.

But it was too weak to hold on properly, and the book fell directly onto Lin Jing’s head.

Thud. The heavy book corner smacked him, making him want to curse. Lin Jing held back and said, “If this isn’t a treasure, I’m cutting you up first.”

The rat: “…Don’t be so violent.”

Placing it flat on the table, Lin Jing was stunned to realize that it wasn’t a book but a small box.

In the upper right corner, there was a gold-embossed rose—the emblem of Eberon.

The lock was rusted. Lin Jing easily picked it open with a strand of hair.

The rat lay on his shoulder, eyes wide and breath held, staring at the contents.

Inside the box was a pile of letters, written in elegant, delicate handwriting, still carrying a lingering fragrance.

Lin Jing froze for a moment and picked one up.

The candlelight flickered red, dyeing the pages with a soft yellow hue, like remnants of time itself.

He opened the first letter.

[Dear Mr. M,

This is probably the last letter I will write to you.

Did you know? It has been raining in Eberon lately. Half of the roses in the garden have withered, and the air is full of dampness.

I often sleep through entire days. Anna says I was pricked by the thorns, and the curse is about to take effect.

But I’m not afraid of the curse. I’m afraid of never seeing you again. I’m afraid that when you return, you won’t find me.

Rain-soaked Eberon is like a gloomy, reclusive mute girl.

The sky is a dull blue-green, the castle a deep black, and even the streets and houses are an annoying shade of gray.

How could there be such an awful city?

I remember asking if you liked Eberon.

You said you did.

But no, M, you lied to me.

You don’t like Eberon, just as you don’t like me.**]

After reading it, Lin Jing and the rat exchanged glances, both seeing the same thought in each other’s eyes—WTF.

The rat: “Did the princess write this to her secret lover?”

Lin Jing corrected, “Can you be more refined? This is a love letter.”

The rat suddenly slapped his shoulder with a paw: “D*mn, do you remember the original Sleeping Beauty story? Maybe when we fight through the thorns to find the witch, the solution she gives will be a kiss from the princess’s true love—this M. Aren’t we already way ahead of the plot?”

Lin Jing got excited too: “More than just ahead—we’re miles ahead! We’ve basically skipped several versions of the story. But how do we find M?”

The rat urged, “Hurry up and check the other letters. Maybe there’s a clue about M.”

They were raring to go.

However, they were overthinking it.

The box only contained three letters, none of which clearly revealed M’s identity. They read more like the princess talking to herself.

[Dear Mr. M,

My father was angry again.

He misses my mother, and in his grief and rage, he wanted to smash the statue in the square. But I stopped him.

‘The Heart of the Rose’ means ‘divine favor’ in Eberon.

This statue was once blessed by the gods. The Heart of the Rose was originally its eyes before it became the jewel in my father’s crown.

My father says I am also blessed by the gods. But I don’t believe in gods—unless the god is you.**]

Final letter.

[Dear Mr. M,

Thank you for appearing and taking me away from that strange castle.

I will never forget that night.

The wilderness was full of wild roses, and crickets hummed softly in the grass.

The stars kissed the earth, fireflies falling like shooting stars.

Dew-laden thorns clung to my gown, and laurel flowers fell into my hair.

I cried the entire time.

Oh, my god.

Glass beads, roses, crickets.

Everything I asked for, you gave me.

You must be curious why I love these things.

But that is a secret.**]

After finishing the three love letters, Lin Jing and the rat were left speechless, utterly confused in a straight-man way.

The rat asked, “Did you figure anything out?”

Lin Jing shook his head, then thought for a moment and said, “Actually, I’ve been live-streaming this entire game. We can ask the chat for outside help.”

The rat bristled: “WTF! You were live-streaming? That means a bunch of people just watched my ghostly rat form?!”

Lin Jing smirked. “What are you so scared of? I wasn’t even embarrassed pretending to be a soft girl.”

He opened the chat, and a blue text box immediately popped up.

There were plenty of “cloud players” (viewers who just watch rather than play).

[I also think M is the key to breaking the curse. The antidote is probably a kiss.]

[The script’s name is The Kiss of Thorns, so there’s no doubt. No need to find the witch at all.]

[D*mn, that makes this way too easy. How many points is this run worth? Emmm, feels like less than fifty.]

Others were commenting on the characters.

[That John guy is so gross.]

[Aaaaah, Cyril is so handsome! The rule of the universe is that good-looking guys are never just background characters. Blind guess: Cyril is M.]

[??? WTF, sis above, your thinking isn’t just ahead of the version—we’re basically inside the game server itself now!]

[Stay low-key, stay low-key.]

[If you’re a romance brain, just don’t talk, okay? 🤷‍♀️]

[Hey, I don’t agree with that! The sis above isn’t a romance brain. I am. I’m straight-up shipping this. Streamer, are you feeling the romance? Because I sure am.]

Lin Jing: “…”

Lin Jing: “Not interested. I opened the chat to ask one question: Did anyone make sense of these three cryptic letters? Ladies first. Guys, shut up.”

Chat:

[WTF??? I’m reporting you for gender discrimination!]

【Awesome, when there’s nothing happening, everyone is equal, but when there’s trouble, girls go first. What do you take the chat for? Just a bunch of tools?】

【No way, I can’t take this injustice.】

At that moment, another cloud player started giving directions.

【Streamer, you’re such a noob. This is such a low-level script, probably only worth a few dozen points. Why are you overcomplicating things? Just go for it! Take down the guards, storm the king’s chamber, and snatch the “Heart of the Rose.” What’s the point of messing around with all this? If you succeed, remember to dance for us—but don’t open your mouth.】

Lin Jing tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Are you telling me what to do?”

Lin Jing: “The last person who tried to teach me how to play ended up a fool and is now a moderator in my chat.”

【HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA】

【Raising my hand, I’m a girl who has read countless romance novels. Okay, let me analyze this seriously—M is the one who rescued the princess from the forest. The princess deeply loves M, but he left her later, though he probably promised to return.】

【[Xingxingxiayu]: Lin Jing, do you not want to play anymore? :)】

【The second letter mentioned the ‘Heart of the Rose,’ symbolizing divine favor. I think M might not be an ordinary person. Maybe he can use magic, and… Wait! Lin Lin Lin Lin Lin Jing?!】