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

The Ji Clan’s Treasure Vault?

Qi Yuan’s eyelid twitched. His mind immediately began running simulations, calculating the probability of a successful heist.

Based on the violent reaction from the Creation Cauldron earlier, the missing fragment was almost certainly sitting inside that vault.

This is a problem.

The Ji Clan wasn’t some two-bit countryside landlord. They were a legitimate, heavyweight Demonic Path dynasty. And in the Demonic Path, everyone was a wolf. The one thing they didn’t lack was paranoia regarding their wealth.

A vault situated in the heart of the Ancestral Land, surrounded by thousands of demons and guarded by Dao Integration elders? It was a fortress.

Charging in head-on wasn’t bravery; it was a speedrun to the afterlife.

I need a plan. A long-term, low-risk, high-reward plan.

As the saying goes: As long as your mind doesn’t slip, there are always more solutions than problems.

Having composed himself, Qi Yuan wiped the larceny from his eyes and adopted a solemn, righteous expression.

“Fairy Ji, you misunderstand. I merely felt that the scenery over there was pleasant and the Spiritual Qi exceptionally dense. I thought to wander over and admire the view.” He placed a hand over his heart. “Since it is your esteemed clan’s Treasure Vault, I naturally have no interest. I am a gentleman of integrity; how could I possibly harbor designs on another’s possessions?”

Technically, the Creation Cauldron was his. Retrieving a fragment that belonged to it wasn’t stealing—it was reunification.

Ji Chan’er stared at him deeply, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Fine. Just remember what you said. Do not approach that place.”

She pointed a slender finger toward the distant structure. “The Ancestor personally laid down a killing array there. Anyone without a specific token will be shredded into a mist of blood and bone before they can take a second step.”

Qi Yuan nodded calmly. “Don’t worry. I know my limits.”

By the time they returned to the Ji residence, it was late afternoon. Qi Yuan planned to pay his respects to Ji Chan’er’s father and then make a strategic exit.

He had just received a transmission from Situ Yun regarding “urgent business.” Since the judge presiding over his case, Situ Kong, was also from the Situ family, Qi Yuan suspected a new development in his legal troubles and wanted to return to Blood Refining Peak immediately.

A few moments later.

In a study decorated with ostentatious luxury, Qi Yuan laid eyes on Ji Chan’er’s father for the first time.

The man wore obscure, scholarly robes and straw sandals, projecting an image of refined elegance and deep, reserved wisdom. His aura was fluid and round, yet Qi Yuan’s sharp senses detected a subtle impurity within the spiritual pressure.

Nascent Soul… but barely.

It was obvious that Father Ji’s cultivation was a “paper tiger”—a realm forcibly piled up by massive amounts of resources rather than genuine comprehension. It lacked substance.

For the eldest legitimate son of the main branch, such aptitude was tragically mediocre.

Of course, facing his future “father-in-law,” Qi Yuan showed no sign of contempt. He bowed deeply, his posture the picture of respect.

“Junior Big Qi pays his respects to Uncle Ji.”

Hearing someone call him “Uncle,” Ji Shijie, who had been frowning at a Go board, finally looked up. His eyes landed on his daughter first, and his face softened into a gentle smile.

“Chan’er, you’re back?”

“Father.”

Ji Chan’er’s face darkened, black lines virtually appearing on her forehead. “I greeted you the moment I walked in. You didn’t hear a word, did you?”

“Ahem…”

Ji Shijie coughed awkwardly, quickly pivoting to change the subject. He turned his gaze to Qi Yuan, looking the young man up and down with curiosity.

“Chan’er, this young master is…”

“You really weren’t listening,” Ji Chan’er huffed, her eyebrows twitching. “He is your daughter’s good friend. His name is Qi… Big Qi.”

Good friend?

Ji Shijie frowned instinctively, a protective fatherly instinct flaring up. But upon noting Qi Yuan’s attire—standard Outer Sect robes—his expression relaxed. He chuckled, his demeanor turning encouraging.

“Not bad. To be so highly regarded by my daughter, you must be a rising star in the Saint Sect’s Outer Sect.”

He nodded at Qi Yuan approvingly. “Work hard with Chan’er. Serve her well, and our Ji Clan will not treat you poorly.”

Work hard?

The phrasing was standard, but in the context of a male “friend” and his daughter, it carried a certain… ambiguity.

Qi Yuan, ever the professional, nodded solemnly. “Rest assured, Uncle. I will definitely go hard with Fairy Ji. I won’t let you down.”

Beside them, Ji Chan’er turned the color of a ripe tomato, looking as if she wanted to burrow into the floor tiles.

Ji Shijie, completely oblivious to the double entendre, smiled with relief. “Good. Young people should have that kind of vigor! The Ji Clan needs stamina like yours.”

After offering a few more generic platitudes, his attention drifted back to the Go board on the table. His brows knitted together, the scholar’s angst returning.

“Chan’er, you have always been exceptionally intelligent. Your comprehension far surpasses mine. Tell me… can you see how to break this deadlock?”

Hearing this, Ji Chan’er pushed aside her embarrassment and stepped forward to examine the board.

Qi Yuan, curious, craned his neck to look as well.

He knew Go existed in this cultivation world. The rules were identical to Earth’s, and it was highly prestigious—mostly because long-lived cultivators were often bored out of their minds and needed a way to look profound while killing time.

In this day and age, if you couldn’t play a few moves, how could you pretend to be an otherworldly expert?

However, Qi Yuan himself was completely clueless. He knew the black and white stones went on the lines, and that was about the extent of his knowledge.

After a long silence, Ji Chan’er let out a heavy sigh. Her voice turned grave.

“Father… I believe this is not an unfinished game. It is a dead end.”

She pointed to a cluster of white stones. “No matter where you place the next stone, the white army is trapped. They are powerless to turn the tide.”

Ji Shijie nodded slowly, his face aging ten years in an instant. “Indeed. The outcome is decided. But your Grandfather… he had this board sent to me personally today. What do you think he means by this?”

“Could it be…”

Ji Chan’er’s delicate brows furrowed, her expression turning icy. “I didn’t expect Grandfather to be so heartless. Our family has already conceded everything! Does he really intend to drive us to extinction?!”

Ji Shijie’s face paled. “What are you saying?”

“It’s a message,” Ji Chan’er explained, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. “These past few days, I have made a name for myself in the clan. Many likely assume our branch is no longer content to be side characters, that we intend to fight for the Heir position again.”

She gestured at the board. “For Grandfather to send a ‘dead end’ game at such a time… it is a severe warning. He is telling us that our family is the white stones. No matter how we struggle, we are surrounded. Resistance is futile.”

“What?!”

Ji Shijie shot to his feet, knocking over his tea. His voice shook with grief and indignation. “Your Grandfather goes too far! He is forcing his own flesh and blood onto a path of death! Even a tiger does not eat its own cubs!”

“No! I will not accept this. I’m going to find him right now and demand an explanation—”

“Hold on.”

A voice interrupted the dramatic crescendo.

Father and daughter froze, turning their teary, angry eyes toward the source.

Qi Yuan rubbed his nose awkwardly. He pointed a finger at the board, looking somewhat sheepish.

“Um… Uncle Ji, Fairy Ji. Do you think there’s a possibility…”

He paused, tracing a line of five black stones arranged neatly in a row amidst the chaos.

“…that this isn’t Go, but… Gomoku?”