Wang Yu hoisted the wine cup and drained it in a single, massive gulp.

The amber liquor slid down his throat, instantly transforming into a surge of scorching spiritual energy that rushed straight to his dantian. His square, rugged face flushed a brilliant crimson.

“Excellent wine!”

He exhaled a heavy, fragrant breath, his eyes sparkling with raw excitement. He eagerly gulped down several more mouthfuls.

“If I could drink such fine wine every day, it would be worth shortening my life by ten years!”

A faint, lazy smile played at the corner of Shen Xian’s lips as he toyed with his jade pendant.

The Drunken Immortal Wine was truly extraordinary, brewed from a secret Shen Family recipe using century-old spirit fruits. Even a Foundation Establishment cultivator would feel a pleasant buzz after three cups.

Shen Xian had originally intended to use the vintage to build connections within the Divine Wood Sect. Looking at the man before him, he realized he had found a worthy investment.

But if he refused… then I would have no choice but to take measures.

“Brother Wang,” Shen Xian said, his tone casual but laced with intent. “If you wish to drink in the future, just come find me. I have plenty.”

Wang Yu was strong, and more importantly, his intentions were transparent. He lacked the duplicitous nature of the sect’s social climbers. Recruiting such a man wouldn’t be a bad move.

Wang Yu’s eyes practically glowed. “Really?”

“The people of my Shen Family never speak empty words.” Shen Xian gave a slight, regal nod. “It’s just that this Drunken Immortal Wine is inherently rare…”

Before he could finish the sentence, Wang Yu grasped the implication.

He stood abruptly, his robes stirring a sudden breeze. He solemnly cupped his hands in a formal salute.

“From this day forward, I, Wang Yu, am willing to serve the Shen Family!”

Wang Yu came from a minor clan and bore the heavy burden of revitalizing his family’s name. Attaching himself to a direct descendant like Shen Xian offered immense benefits for both his personal cultivation and his kin.

He had no reason to refuse.

The solemnity lasted only a moment before Wang Yu reverted to his usual boisterous self. He winked and grinned. “Just don’t complain later when I drink you out of house and home!”

Shen Xian chuckled softly and raised his cup. “It’s settled, then.”

“Cheers!” Wang Yu clinked his cup boldly. “From now on, you’re my Young Master. You can just call me by my name.”

The two exchanged smiles, the wine shimmering like liquid gold under the sunlight. Shen Xian watched the rough but shrewd man and felt satisfied. This deal was a bargain.

After several rounds, Wang Yu was feeling pleasantly tipsy. He patted his chest with a heavy thud.

“Young Master, when the sect’s minor competition arrives, I’ll do my absolute best to help you pass the trial!”

Shen Xian tilted his head, looking bored. “Sect minor competition?”

“You don’t know?” Wang Yu sobered up slightly.

Shen Xian shook his head.

“The competition within the inner sect is cutthroat,” Wang Yu explained. “Every year, there’s a minor competition. Those who perform well can catch the eye of high-ranking elders from the seven peaks. If you become a personal disciple, your resources and status skyrocket!”

In the Divine Wood Sect, cultivation was a race for resources. For inner disciples who hadn’t yet joined a specific peak, this was a life-changing event.

Wang Yu was currently only a nominal disciple of Elder Li from the Artifact Refining Hall. To become an official disciple, he needed to dominate this competition.

Shen Xian listened, but his interest didn’t pique. “This competition… it’s voluntary, right?”

“Most people scramble to register,” Wang Yu noted. He paused, looking at his new lord. “You don’t plan to participate?”

Shen Xian shook his head again. He wasn’t interested in being someone’s student, and he certainly didn’t lack resources. If he needed anything, he could just squeeze his elder brother for it later.

Since Shen Xing intended to use him for his “Heartless Dao” progression, he wouldn’t let his “beloved” little brother starve for materials.

“That makes sense,” Wang Yu grinned. “With your status, there’s no need to play in the dirt with the rest of us.”

Then, his expression turned uncharacteristically earnest. “But for me… this trial is my last chance. I must pass it.”

Elder Li had only taken him in because of old family ties. If Wang Yu didn’t prove his worth now, the door to the Artifact Refining Hall would close forever.

“Then I wish you luck,” Shen Xian said, raising his cup once more.

They drank several more rounds. As Wang Yu rambled on, pledging his loyalty to Shen Xian, a white blur silently appeared beside the stone table. The Thunder Pattern Spirit Cat sat elegantly on its haunches, amber vertical pupils fixed intently on the storage pouch at Shen Xian’s waist.

It was eyeing its favorite beast stones inside.

Burp! Wang Yu let out a wine-heavy belch and squinted at the cat. “Is this your spirit beast, Young Master?”

Even through his drunken haze, he noticed the faint flickers of lightning dancing amidst its white fur.

“It’s actually a Thunder Pattern Spirit Cat! As expected of a Young Master of the Shen Family!” He praised sincerely. Such beasts were rare and possessed immense potential.

“You could say it’s mine,” Shen Xian said, tossing a beast stone to the cat. “Don’t touch it. It’s got a nasty temper.”

The little creature was delighted, hugging the beast stone and gnawing on it right there, though it kept a guarded eye on the stranger.

“Young Master, you should manage such a precious beast carefully,” Wang Yu said, his voice dropping to a serious tone.

“What do you mean?” Shen Xian asked.

“Think about it. How many people secretly covet such a beast? If you haven’t registered it with the sect, it’s considered ‘ownerless property.’ Anyone could try to snatch it away.”

Wang Yu leaned in. “Between your family connections and your engagement to Senior Sister Wei, you’re already the target of a lot of envy. If people see this cat, they’ll use any excuse to seize it. Register it early to get the sect’s backing.”

Shen Xian glanced at the cat. Xiao Bai stared back at him, its eyes narrowing as if to say: Don’t even think about tricking me into another contract.

The cat still held a grudge over the “mother-child collar” Shen Xian had used previously. It clearly viewed “registration” as another unequal treaty.

“It’s just a formality,” Shen Xian whispered awkwardly.

Meow! Xiao Bai let out a dissatisfied cry and leaped away, disappearing into the bamboo.

Shen Xian sighed. However, he wasn’t truly worried. The cat was a fourth-tier spirit beast—equivalent to a Nascent Soul expert. Only a True Lord could subdue it, and someone at that level likely wouldn’t stoop to stealing a disciple’s pet.

The Black Mystic Spirit-Seeking Tortoise, however, was a different story. Since it currently looked like an ordinary turtle, it was much easier to register without raising eyebrows.

That tortoise is one of my trump cards. I shouldn’t let it be exposed easily.

“I’ll find some time to register the turtle later,” Shen Xian murmured, ending the conversation with another pour of wine.