Is It Wrong to Bully the Novice Village for System Rewards?

Chapter 227: The Overlord President, the Ji Clan Ancestor

Ji Clan Ancestral Land.

Guided by Linghu Gao, Qi Yuan soon stood face-to-face with the Ji Clan Patriarch—Ji Yuntian, the grandfather of his favorite little demoness.

Ji Yuntian sported a bristling beard and glaring, tiger-like eyes. He practically oozed domineering malice. Yet, looking at him just made Qi Yuan’s eye twitch. Honestly, this “Grandpa Ji” looked exactly like the final boss of some cheesy martial arts soap opera from his past life. For a split second, Qi Yuan almost broke character to blurt out, “Boss Xiong Ba?”

Meanwhile, Ji Yuntian was scrutinizing Qi Yuan, his gaze heavy and piercing as if trying to strip bare all his secrets.

To the Patriarch, the young man standing before him looked utterly unremarkable. A mere late-stage Foundation Building Cultivator. Trash. If Linghu Gao hadn’t fervently sworn that a peerless master of the Pill Dao backed this kid, Ji Yuntian wouldn’t have spared him a single glance.

After a moment of heavy silence, Ji Yuntian commanded in a flat, indifferent tone: “Hand over the life-extending Pill. The Ji Clan is requisitioning it. Name your price.”

He only offered that much courtesy for Linghu Gao’s sake; the Ji Clan still desperately needed their only Heaven-rank Alchemist to keep producing Pills. Otherwise, Ji Yuntian would have simply arrested this suspicious nobody and tortured the item out of him. Some random junior showing up out of nowhere offering the Patriarch a miraculous life-extending Pill? He practically screamed “enemy spy.”

Unfazed by the crushing pressure, Qi Yuan didn’t bat an eye. He smoothly declined. “Boss Xion—ahem, Patriarch Ji. It seems you didn’t hear my conditions clearly.”

“I said I must meet the actual patient. I need to personally explain the side effects. Only then will I decide whether or not to hand over the Pill.”

In the past, standing before a Dao Integration realm powerhouse like Ji Yuntian might have made him sweat. But now? With the defensive talisman given by Grandmaster Ling Yu tucked securely in his robes, ten Ji Yuntians couldn’t make him flinch.

The moment it detected a lethal threat, the talisman would automatically trigger an absolute barrier, buying Qi Yuan plenty of time to teleport out of the Ji Clan’s territory. The only person capable of shattering that shield was the Ji Clan Ancestor—and he was currently a bedridden corpse.

Basically, no one in the Ji Clan posed an actual threat to him. He could act as arrogant as he wanted!

Still, this was his favorite demoness’s family. Qi Yuan didn’t intend to push it too far. He was genuinely here to save the Ji Clan from total annihilation—just a humble hero doing a good deed without leaving a name.

What can I say? I’m just a saint.

Operating with a completely clear conscience, Qi Yuan exuded an aura of unshakeable confidence.

Ji Yuntian, however, didn’t see a confident saint. He saw an ant challenging his absolute authority. His face darkened, murder flashing in his eyes.

Just as the Patriarch was about to erupt, Linghu Gao’s frantic voice transmission whispered in his ear. “Patriarch, hold your hand! Not only does a supreme master back this boy, but he carries the personal token of the Pill Sage, Zu Chengzhi! Unless absolutely necessary, we cannot afford to offend him!”

Ji Yuntian stiffened. The lethal threat sitting on his tongue was forcefully swallowed down.

He didn’t care much about some anonymous “master,” but he knew exactly what the name “Zu Chengzhi” meant. The Pill Sage was on the extremely short list of people in the Cultivation world you never crossed.

Sure, Ji Yuntian was a ruthless overlord of the demonic path, but Demonic Cultivators still bleed. They still needed Pills. Without alchemical support, their Cultivation would grind to a halt. If they suffered heavy injuries in battle, what were they supposed to do? Just lie in the dirt and die?

The Pill Masters Association practically monopolized the entire world’s supply of high-tier Pills and alchemists. If they offended the Association’s President, the entire Ji Clan would be economically starved. Hell, even if the three great demonic clans joined forces, they couldn’t afford that kind of embargo.

In the span of a single breath, Ji Yuntian forcefully cooled his temper. This kid is backed by the Pill Sage. No wonder he’s so arrogant in my presence. In that case… maybe that Pill really can extend the Ancestor’s life.

His hostile aura vanished, replaced by a tense pragmatism. He took a deep breath and gave a stiff nod. “Fine! Since you insist, young friend, I will grant you an audience with the patient.”

He stood up from his heavy throne and flicked his sleeve. A pitch-black portal violently tore open the space in front of him. Swirling with a sickening, dark light, the portal’s frame was carved with countless shrieking, grotesque ghost faces. The interior was a swirling, bottomless abyss.

“He is inside. I will take you to him now,” Ji Yuntian said, shooting the momentarily stunned Qi Yuan a mocking look.

By stepping through that portal, this arrogant brat was crossing the point of no return. If the Pill worked, fine. If it was a dud? Well… dead men tell no secrets.

Just then, Linghu Gao swallowed audibly. He plastered a deadly serious look on his face. “Patriarch, I… I just realized I left a batch of Pills simmering in my furnace! If I don’t get back immediately, the rare ingredients will be completely ruined. You two go ahead. I’ll take my leave!”

Without waiting for a response, the elderly alchemist spun on his heel and practically sprinted out of the hall, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

Ji Yuntian couldn’t have cared less. He sneered at Qi Yuan. “Since Elder Linghu is so busy, it will just be the two of us.”

“Works for me. Lead the way, Patriarch Ji.” Qi Yuan nodded easily, stepping into the nightmarish portal right on Ji Yuntian’s heels.

The moment they crossed the threshold, the world expanded into a vast, boundless void. Thick, suffocating black mist roiled in every direction, saturating the pocket dimension with a deeply oppressive, hair-raising chill.

Suspended deep within the ink-black clouds was a colossal, majestic temple. It floated silently in the void, exuding an aura of ancient, decaying grandeur.

Ji Yuntian flew Qi Yuan over to the temple’s massive stone steps. Landing softly, the domineering Patriarch bowed deeply, his voice ringing out with utmost reverence: “Your unworthy descendant, Ji Yuntian, requests an audience with the Ancestor.”

“Enter.” A low, impossibly hoarse voice rasped from within the darkness. The single word carried the terrifying weight of supreme authority, yet beneath that heavy pressure was the undeniable rot of extreme old age. It sounded like a massive, ancient tree groaning under its own weight, seconds away from collapsing into dust.

“Yes, Ancestor.” Not daring to delay, Ji Yuntian quickly ushered Qi Yuan into the great hall.

The instant they crossed the threshold, a nauseating stench of coppery blood violently assaulted their senses. Dominating the center of the hall was a massive, boiling pool of thick, dark-red blood. It bubbled and churned, radiating an aura of sheer, chaotic malevolence.

Dozens of fragmented, mutilated corpses bobbed in the gruesome stew. Even in death, their mangled remains bled residual spiritual pressure, proving that in life, they had been terrifying, apex predators. Now, they were nothing more than liquefied fertilizer.

Anchored in the very center of the boiling gore was a pristine platform carved from ten-thousand-year glacial jade. The platform acted as a conduit, siphoning the raw, massive vitality from the blood pool and aggressively pumping it directly into the frail figure sitting upon it.

Qi Yuan stole a glance. A withered old man draped in a heavy black robe and a crane-feather cloak sat rigidly on the jade platform. He looked less like a human and more like an exhumed skeleton. His leathery, gray skin was shrink-wrapped tightly over his brittle bones, devoid of any visible muscle or fat.

If not for the impossibly shallow, rattling rise and fall of the Ji Clan Ancestor’s chest, Qi Yuan would have assumed the old monster was already dead.

Yikes. Qi Yuan frowned. Ji Qingcang’s condition is way worse than I thought.

As Qi Yuan’s mind raced, Ji Yuntian carefully approached the edge of the blood pool. Kneeling, he reported solemnly: “Ancestor, this young friend brings a rare offering. It is called the Prolonging Life and Enhancing Longevity Pill.”

“However, its effects are not without consequence. There are significant side effects. He insisted on personally explaining the risks before you consume it. The final decision rests entirely in your hands.”

Slowly, agonizingly, the skeletal Ancestor opened his eyes. A flash of sinister crimson briefly ignited in the depths of his cloudy pupils.

He slowly shifted his gaze toward Qi Yuan, who was standing there looking completely unbothered, and rasped a single word: “Speak.”