A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6091

Vendors barked prices while buyers haggled, laughter weaving through the din.

Jared weighed their options—selling loot risked exposure, refinery wages crawled, and guild missions might cost weeks he could not spare.

His calculation stalled when a sudden roar of voices burst ahead.

"Come on! A martial contest for marriage!"

"Seriously? Which fairy is searching for a husband?"

"Ms. Rania of the Chance Family in East City! One of Cloudhaven's old houses!"

"Move it, let's watch!"

A knot of cultivators surged toward the eastern district, excitement splashing from them like sparks from a forge.

Jared's stride paused. His gaze flowed after the river of bodies, thoughtful.

"A contest for marriage?"

One brow rose. "They still do that on the Fourteenth Firmament?"

Grace followed the same line of sight, recognition dawning. "The Chance Family. With the Celestial Palace weak here, two clans handle most affairs. The Chances made their fortune in alchemy—they're rich."

Grace hesitated. The traffic on the street kept flowing, but her words slowed the air around the three of them.

"Miss Vivian, eldest daughter of the Chance Family, is gifted beyond most. Yet she has been stuck at High Immortal Realm Level Eight for years. She must be looking for a cultivation partner—dual cultivation might punch her through the wall."

Luther let out a quiet "I see." The simple reply carried the click of sudden understanding.

Luther finished the remark, then caught Jared's distant stare. A prickle of wariness ran up his spine.

"Mr. Chance," Luther asked, voice lowered to a thread, "you're not thinking of…?"

Jared drew his gaze back, face composed.

"Three hundred sixty bottles of celestial elixir isn't pocket change. Selling loot is risky, the Essence Refinery too slow, and guild missions could eat weeks."

He paused, calculation slipping into his tone.

"But if I become the Chance Family's son-in-law, a mere three hundred bottles shouldn't be an issue."

Luther's eyes rounded until the whites showed.

Grace blinked, caught completely off guard.

"Mr. Chance—" Luther tried again.

Luther swallowed. "You… you mean to enter the contest?"

Jared lifted one brow. "Any problem?"

Luther burst out, "Of course there's a problem!"

Luther, usually unflappable, suddenly spoke fast.

"This place still falls under the Celestial Palace. We're on their wanted list!"

"If you stand on that stage and someone recognizes you, we might never make it out."

"It's just one female cultivator. If you need release, pay for it in town."

Jared cut him a flat look, wordless ellipsis hanging in the air.

Exasperation flickered in Jared's chest; chasing women wasn't the point, yet Luther somehow thought it was.

Did people truly picture him as a skirt-chaser?

He failed to see why; the women in his life had always come to him, not the other way around.

Grace studied him, then spoke soft.

"Benefactor, the contest isn't simple. Miss Vivian's standards are high. Even if you win, she may still decline."

She bit her lip; color rushed into her cheeks.

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