?
"Hahahaha! Father Emperor speaks the truth. Today, we cast aside heavy burdens and discuss only the wind and the moon!"
Crown Prince Dai Yun, seeing that Princess Yuge was now claimed by his father, wasted no time shifting his predatory gaze. He turned immediately to Su Miaoqing, his eyes raking over her form.
"I wonder, Fairy Su, might this Prince ask your age?"
Xiao Yifeng cut in before she could react, his voice flat. "My Senior Sister has a cold, aloof temperament. She dislikes speaking with strangers. The Crown Prince will have to forgive her."
"Cold and aloof? Hahaha! Excellent!" Crown Prince Dai Yun laughed, licking his lips. "This Prince has always preferred the icy ones. It makes the melting process so much more satisfying."
The other princes and nobles, as if waking from a trance, suddenly realized the opportunity. They began clamoring over one another, shouting questions and vying for Su Miaoqing’s attention. Their eyes were sticky with lust, stripping her bare with every glance.
Xiao Yifeng’s expression grew frosty, though he maintained a thin veneer of politeness, deflecting their inquiries with monosyllabic answers.
Just then, the fox-like Consort Lin leaned into the Emperor’s side, her chest pressing against his arm as she whispered something in a sickly sweet, breathy voice.
The old Emperor’s eyes lit up. He turned to Xiao Yifeng and Su Miaoqing with a leering smile. "Fairy Su, I wonder if the mortal cuisine of our humble kingdom suits your refined palate?"
Su Miaoqing, who was barely restraining the urge to burn the palace down, gave a stiff, icy nod. She didn't utter a word.
The Emperor didn't seem to mind. In fact, he leaned forward, his gaze glued to her face. "To see a Fairy of such peerless beauty... it truly makes this Emperor feel decades younger. Tell me, Fairy, are you betrothed?"
Su Miaoqing’s face turned as dark as the bottom of a frozen lake. She remained silent.
Below the dais, the Crown Prince and his brothers stiffened, realizing their father was encroaching on their prey.
"His Majesty is merely showing concern for the Fairy," the Empress interjected hastily, sensing the dangerous drop in temperature. "He holds no ill intent."
But Consort Lin wasn't finished. She leaned into the old Emperor’s ear again, her red lips moving rapidly.
The Emperor nodded repeatedly, stroking his sparse beard with a look of dawning greed.
"I heard from Consort Lin that you cultivators possess the secret arts of Dual Cultivation," the Emperor said, his voice trembling with excitement. "Methods that can grant eternal youth and prolong life. Since I began dual cultivating with Consort Lin, I have indeed felt my vigor return."
Beside him, the Empress’s face drained of color. "Your Majesty! Watch your tongue!"
The Emperor whipped around, glaring at his wife. "Silence! I am merely discussing the arts of health preservation with the Fairy. Why must you make such a fuss?"
"Exactly," Consort Lin chimed in, giggling behind her sleeve. "His Majesty has a natural talent for the Dao of preservation. Sister, you are simply too rigid. Even the State Preceptor agrees that His Majesty is gifted! Isn't that right, State Preceptor?"
She threw a seductive wink at the man in the black robes.
The State Preceptor, sweating slightly, bowed stiffly. "Consort Lin speaks the truth. His Majesty... has excellent talent."
Hearing the affirmation from a Golden Core cultivator, the old Emperor beamed with delight. He turned back to Su Miaoqing, his eyes narrowing into crescents of pure lust.
"It is a pity that Consort Lin is, after all, a mere mortal. Her constitution cannot keep up," the Emperor said shamelessly. "I wonder if Fairy Su is an expert in such secret techniques? Perhaps you would be willing to dual cultivate with this Emperor for a few nights?"
CRACK.
The porcelain wine cup in Su Miaoqing’s hand didn't just break; it was pulverized into fine white dust. Wine splashed across the table, dripping onto her robes, but she didn't seem to notice. Her aura plummeted, the air around her turning so cold that frost began to form on the table edges.
Xiao Yifeng’s expression was terrifyingly calm—still water running deep. He had not expected Yue’er’s father to be such a degenerate piece of trash.
He picked up his own cup, drained it in one gulp, and then poured himself another, filling it to the brim.
Slowly, he stood up.
"Your Majesty has entertained us with such... warmth," Xiao Yifeng said, his voice resonating with a deep, suppressed power. "This humble mountain villager has no way to return the favor."
He held the cup out with both hands, bowed slightly, and then—
He poured the wine onto the floor in a slow, deliberate stream.
The entire hall gasped.
In the customs of the mortal world and the cultivation world alike, pouring wine on the ground was a libation for the dead. Xiao Yifeng was publicly treating the living Emperor as a corpse.
"Impudence!" Consort Lin shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at him. "How dare you curse His Majesty! Guards! Seize him!"
"Yes!"
A dozen royal guards drew their blades and lunged forward.
But before they could take a second step, they froze. Their eyes widened in horror.
Hovering millimeters from the forehead of every single guard was a transparent, shimmering sword made of condensed water Qi. The cold sharpness pricked their skin, promising instant death if they twitched.
ROAR!
The air in the hall exploded with humidity. Nine massive Water Dragons materialized around Xiao Yifeng, their bodies coiled and undulating, scales glistening like sapphires. They loomed over the banquet hall, their eyes burning with draconic fury, staring down the terrified officials.
Su Miaoqing, seeing Xiao Yifeng take the lead in their defense, felt her own rage subside slightly. She relaxed her clenched fist, content to let him handle the trash.
"Bold commoner!" the Emperor roared, slamming his hand on the dragon throne. "You think that just because you cultivate, you can disrespect a King? Do you think my Yuanhai Kingdom is defenseless? State Preceptor! Where are you? Take this man down!"
The State Preceptor’s expression shifted. He knew the Wentian Sect was powerful, but he assumed these two were low-level disciples or rogue cultivators using the sect's name.
He stood up slowly, his Golden Core pressure radiating outward.
"Fellow Daoist," the State Preceptor said gravely. "Do not blame this old man for being ruthless."
He waved his hand, and several of his own disciples drew their weapons, surrounding Xiao Yifeng and Su Miaoqing.
"Your Majesty, please!" Zhang Tianzhi leaped to his feet, desperate. "Young Master Xiao acted on impulse! Please reconsider!"
Beside him, Princess Yuge was pale as a sheet, her hands trembling as she watched the standoff.
"State Preceptor, be careful not to damage the girl!" the Emperor shouted hurriedly. "I still want her!"
"Understood, Your Majesty." The State Preceptor adopted a posture of transcendent wisdom, stroking his beard. He looked at Xiao Yifeng with pity. "Young friends, you should surrender. His Majesty merely has a heart for the Dao and wishes to... exchange pointers with the Fairy."
"Exchange pointers?" Xiao Yifeng sneered. "You certainly have a way with words. Are you certain you want to make an enemy of us?"
Xiao Yifeng flipped his hand. A token shot into the air, hovering above his head.
Hum!
The token erupted with blinding blue light, projecting the distinct, ancient insignia of the Wentian Sect into the air. The pressure it released was not just spiritual; it was authority.
"We are True Disciples of the Wentian Sect," Xiao Yifeng announced, his voice cold enough to freeze marrow.
He pointed a finger at Su Miaoqing. "And my Senior Sister here is the only daughter of the Hall Master of Wuya Hall."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Xiao Yifeng’s gaze swept across the room, landing on the State Preceptor. "Tell me. Does your Yuanhai Kingdom wish to be annihilated?"
The civil officials and princes looked confused, but the reaction from the cultivators was immediate and catastrophic.
The State Preceptor’s face went from arrogant to sheet-white in a heartbeat. His knees visibly shook.
They had assumed these two were menial disciples—servants like Princess Lianyue. Bullying a servant was fine; the great sects wouldn't bother starting a war over a janitor.
But a True Disciple?
And the daughter of a Hall Master?
The Wentian Sect had nine Hall Masters. Every single one of them was a Mahayana realm expert—a being so powerful they could sink the entire Yuanhai Kingdom with a wave of their hand.
The State Preceptor felt his soul almost leave his body.
"Hmph! What is a Wentian Sect?" Crown Prince Dai Yun, ignorant and arrogant, sneered. "You think you're the only ones with a sect? Do you think our Yuanhai Kingdom is scared? State Preceptor! Why are you standing there? Kill this arrogant brat! I want his head!"
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"
The State Preceptor spun around and screamed at the Crown Prince, his voice cracking with terror. "Crown Prince, do you want to kill us all?!"
"The Wentian Sect has nine Mahayana Hall Masters! A single Mahayana expert could wipe out our entire nation as easily as flipping a palm! Every True Disciple is a precious treasure of the Sect!"
The State Preceptor was practically green. "Touching a hair on the head of a Hall Master's daughter... that is a calamity of clan extermination! Do you understand?!"
The Crown Prince froze, his mouth hanging open.
The State Preceptor didn't wait. He turned to Xiao Yifeng and Su Miaoqing, his posture collapsing into a humble, bowing servility.
"Misunderstanding! It is all a misunderstanding!" The State Preceptor pleaded, sweat pouring down his face. "This old Daoist had eyes but failed to recognize Mount Tai. I have offended the two of you!"
He frantically signaled the Emperor with his eyes, begging the old fool to realize the precipice they were standing on.