The Exquisite Sanctuary. Jade Cicada Palace.

The grand hall was a vision of immortal decadence. Celestial music drifted through the air like scented smoke, weaving between the golden pillars and jade-paved floors. In the center of the hall, rows of ornate tables were laden with spirit fruits that glowed with inner light, delicacies made from rare beasts, and flagons of wine aged for centuries.

Dozens of beautiful maidservants in flowing silk robes fluttered between the tables like butterflies, serving the guests with practiced grace and lowered eyes.

At the head table, the Exquisite Saintess, Xiao Yueni, poured a cup of amber spirit wine. She stood, her movements fluid and elegant, and raised the cup to the assembly.

“Six Fellow Daoists have traveled ten thousand miles to grace my humble abode,” she said, her voice clear and melodious. “Your presence brings light to my sanctuary. Yueni offers this first toast to you all.”

She tilted her head back, revealing a swan-like neck, and drained the cup. A faint, rosy flush bloomed on her porcelain cheeks, adding a touch of mortal allure to her usually aloof temperament.

“Fellow Daoist Xiao is too polite,” Zhuang Qingyun responded, raising his own cup. “Our sects have always stood watch for one another. To celebrate the birth of a fourth Great Ascension Patriarch is a joy we would not miss.”

“Indeed,” Tu Ruoxu added, his voice calm. “For the Heavenly Prides of the Seven Great Sanctuaries to gather like this is a rare event. We should drink deep!”

The atmosphere warmed as cups clashed and pleasantries were exchanged. Even the ice-cold Qin Lingxue took a polite sip, though her gaze kept drifting—subtly, almost involuntarily—toward Qi Yao, who stood dutifully behind Xiao Yueni.

As the banquet settled into a rhythm of drinking and light conversation, Piao Genshuo leaned toward Qi Yuan, munching loudly on a spirit pear.

“Look at that,” Piao transmitted, his voice heavy with grease. “That Junior Sister from the Abyssal Sanctuary. Beautiful? Yes. But she’s an absolute iceberg.”

He shook his head theatrically. “She’s even colder than Xiao Yueni, and I didn’t think that was possible. What is wrong with the women in the cultivation world these days? Is ’emotional unavailability’ the new fashion trend?”

Qi Yuan swirled his wine, his expression serene, while his mental voice dripped with disdain.

“You have the nerve to call someone else an iceberg? That’s rich coming from you. The problem isn’t them; it’s you. You spend so much time with ‘passionate’ brothel girls that a normal woman looks frozen by comparison. With a face like yours, it’s no wonder they turn into glaciers.”

Piao Genshuo looked genuinely hurt. “Brother, that cuts deep. And don’t you dare slander my girls. What’s wrong with brothel workers?”

He puffed out his chest, his eyes shimmering with a bizarre, righteous light. “Do you know their pain? Every girl in those establishments has a tragic backstory! A gambling-addicted father, a bedridden mother, a little brother who needs money for scholars’ fees, a heartless lover who abandoned them… They didn’t choose the life of dust and wind; they were forced into it by a cruel world!”

Piao wiped a non-existent tear from his eye. “They are victims of fate! If I don’t help them with my patronage, who will? I’m not a lecher, Qi Yuan. I’m a philanthropist.”

Qi Yuan rolled his eyes so hard internally that he feared they might detach. He decided to ignore the idiot before he lost brain cells.

Clack.

The sharp sound of a wine cup hitting a table silenced the room.

Ji Tianpeng, the Holy Scion of the Purple Sun Sanctuary, had set down his drink. He turned his gaze slowly toward Qi Yuan. His expression was calm, but his eyes burned with suppressed aggression.

“Since I ascended to the position of Holy Scion,” Ji Tianpeng began, his voice deep and resonating through the silent hall, “I have longed to test myself against the Holy Scion of the Supreme Mystery Sanctuary. Regrettably, that seat has been empty for too long.”

He smiled, a razor-thin expression that didn’t reach his eyes. “Now that you have filled the vacancy, the obligation falls to you. Since fate has brought us together today, why not have a match right here?”

The air in the hall instantly solidified.

Everyone knew the history. The Purple Sun and Supreme Mystery Sanctuaries were like divorced parents who still lived in the same neighborhood—bitter, competitive, and always looking for an excuse to fight.

The challenge wasn’t a surprise. The only question was whether Qi Yuan would accept.

Logically, he shouldn’t. Qi Yuan was a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator. Ji Tianpeng was an established early-stage Soul Formation powerhouse. That was a difference of an entire Great Realm. In the cultivation world, declining a fight with such a massive level gap wasn’t cowardice; it was common sense.

Ji Tianpeng seemed to anticipate the refusal. He leaned forward, his smile widening.

“Of course, I would not bully you with raw cultivation. That would be unfair.”

He turned to Xiao Yueni. “Fellow Daoist Xiao, I recall the Exquisite Sanctuary possesses a special martial arena equipped with an ‘Equalization Array.’ Once activated, it suppresses both combatants to the exact same cultivation level.”

Ji Tianpeng’s eyes gleamed with predatory confidence. “Victory will depend solely on technique, divine abilities, and combat sense. I wish to borrow this venue. Would you permit it?”

Xiao Yueni frowned, her brows knitting together. “We do have such a place… but the array is old. It is used for testing disciples, not high-level duels. It may be unstable.”

She looked at Qi Yuan with genuine concern, trying to offer him an out. “Everyone here is a pillar of the righteous path. Why damage our harmony over ancient grudges? perhaps we should—”

Scrape.

A chair slid back. Qin Lingxue stood up.

Her white robes fluttered as she turned her icy gaze toward the Purple Sun Scion. Her hand rested on the hilt of the invisible sword at her waist.

“I will fight in his place,” she said coldly. “Ji Tianpeng, do you dare?”

The temperature in the room plummeted.

Ji Tianpeng’s face turned the color of a bruised plum. To be challenged by a woman—and worse, to have that woman step in to protect his rival—was the ultimate insult to his ego.

He ignored her, fixing his glare on Qi Yuan.

“Holy Scion of Supreme Mystery,” Ji Tianpeng spat, his voice dripping with venom. “Are you going to hide behind a woman’s skirts forever? Is this the spine of the Supreme Mystery Sanctuary?”

Silence.

All eyes turned to Qi Yuan.

Qi Yuan sat comfortably in his chair. He lifted his cup, drained the last drop of wine, and set it down with a soft click. He looked bored.

“It is a beautiful day,” Qi Yuan said, his voice languid and relaxed. “Good wine, stunning scenery, lovely company. A gentleman should be enjoying the moment.”

He looked at Ji Tianpeng as if looking at a fly in his soup.

“Why must you insist on shouting about fighting and killing? It spoils the scenery. It ruins the mood. It is utterly tasteless.”

Qi Yuan sighed, shaking his head. “I honestly detest people like you. You act so fierce and aggressive before the fight, puffing your chest out. But the moment you lose? You whine, you make excuses, you groan like a dying pig. It’s nauseating to watch. It truly turns one’s stomach.”

“…”

The hall went dead silent.

Jaws dropped. Even Piao Genshuo stared at Qi Yuan with wide eyes.

Holy shit.

This wasn’t just trash talk. This was a violation.

Qi Yuan hadn’t just accepted the challenge; he had pre-emptively declared victory and framed Ji Tianpeng as a sore loser before a single punch was thrown. It was an arrogant, dismissive slap to the face that echoed louder than thunder.

The onlookers looked at Qi Yuan with a mix of shock and newfound respect.

Has he always been this brave? Or does he just have a death wish?

“YOU—!”

Ji Tianpeng exploded with rage. His aura flared, shaking the wine cups on the tables. His face twisted into a mask of fury.

“Enough talk!” Ji Tianpeng roared. “Keep running your mouth! We will see if your skills are as sharp as your tongue!”

He spun around and stomped out of the hall, heading straight for the plaza, his killing intent rolling off him in waves.

Qi Yuan stood up slowly, dusting imaginary lint from his pristine robes. He turned to a stunned Xiao Yueni.

“Saintess Xiao, please lead the way to this arena,” he said politely.

He paused, glancing back at the table full of half-eaten delicacies.

“Oh, and please tell the servants not to clear the table. I haven’t finished eating yet. I’ll be right back.”

Xiao Yueni blinked, snapping out of her daze. A strange light flickered in her eyes—amusement mixed with curiosity. She covered her mouth and giggled.

“Alright. Follow me.”

As the two walked out, the remaining prodigies exchanged glances. Without a word, they all stood up and rushed after them. Nobody wanted to miss this show.