Early the next morning, Shen Xian intended to attend the morning lecture. However, the moment he pushed open his courtyard gate, he sensed the atmosphere was off.

On the winding paths of Green Bamboo Peak, disciples gathered in small clusters. Their gazes darted toward him, brimming with a volatile mix of emotions.

“Did you hear? Senior Sister Wei personally went to Red Leaf Peak yesterday to deliver pills to him!”

“It is more than that! Someone saw their jade pendants resonating—those are betrothal tokens!”

“Impossible! How could Senior Sister Wei take a liking to a man like him?”

“Hmph, who knows? It is likely just the Shen Family throwing their weight around…”

Shock, jealousy, and resentment hung heavy in the air.

“Is that him?” one disciple hissed through gritted teeth. “A waste in the Qi Refining Realm—what gives him the right?”

“Shh! Keep your voice down,” his companion whispered, tugging at his sleeve. “He is the Shen Family heir.” Despite the warning, the indignation in their eyes was impossible to mask.

Shen Xian’s expression remained as calm as still water. He continued forward, the whispers following him like a persistent shadow. He paused briefly and glanced sideways; the gossiping disciple immediately fell silent, his face paling as he lowered his head.

Too lazy to bother with such trivialities, Shen Xian continued toward the morning lecture.

The moment he stepped into the Red Leaf Courtyard, the lecture hall fell into an abrupt, chilling silence. Dozens of gazes locked onto him, sharp as blades, as if trying to carve holes into his back.

Zhou Ming stood at the front of the crowd. His face was so gloomy it looked as though it might drip ink, his fists clenched until the knuckles creaked.

“Shen Xian!” he hissed, his voice a low, venomous vibration. “You had better pray you do not run into me during the sect’s minor competition…”

Shen Xian gave him a faint, disinterested glance and walked straight to his seat. He didn’t even bother to respond. This dismissive attitude only stoked the fire of Zhou Ming’s rage, causing the veins on his forehead to bulge.

“A waste who relies on his family—is he truly worthy?”

“Just wait,” another whispered. “During the minor competition, plenty of people will teach him a lesson.”

Shen Xian’s lips curled into a slight, amused arc. He wasn’t planning to participate in the competition anyway; these fools wouldn’t even get the chance to seek their revenge.

However, as the lecture ended and he returned to Green Bamboo Peak, a group of outer sect disciples blocked his path.

“Shen Xian, we challenge you!” a bald man at the front barked.

Within the Divine Wood Sect, private brawling was strictly forbidden, but formal sparring was encouraged. However, a challenger had to be in the same realm as the challenged or lower to ensure fairness. Furthermore, the challenged party had the right to refuse.

Since Shen Xian’s public strength was only at the fifth layer of the Qi Refining Realm, his challengers were all outer sect disciples.

Five or six men in gray robes aggressively surrounded him on the stone steps. The bald leader, Liu Xu, wore a sneer as the sword at his waist hummed with infused spiritual energy.

“Shen Xian, right?” Liu Xu mocked. “I am Liu Xu, an outer sect disciple. I have come specifically to exchange a few moves with the great heir.”

Shen Xian lazily lifted his eyes, a faint smile touching his mouth. “I’m not interested.”

“Hah! Has the esteemed heir of the Shen Family so little courage?” Liu Xu raised his voice to draw a crowd. “Or do you only know how to hide behind a woman’s skirts?”

The followers burst into mocking laughter. One added sarcastically, “Exactly! I heard Senior Sister Wei ran to his courtyard yesterday. Who knows what she went there to—”

Before he could finish, a green sword light flashed. Crack! A deep trench was carved into the stone at the speaker’s feet.

Everyone turned in shock. Wang Yu was leaning against a bamboo stalk, his eyes bleary and drunken as he clutched a wine gourd. The wooden sword in his hand trembled slightly.

“Such noisy clamoring… you’re disturbing my sleep,” Wang Yu said with a drunken hiccup. He pointed his wooden sword at the group. “Do you lot want to taste my newly developed Drunken Immortal Sword Technique?”

Liu Xu’s face went pale. He instinctively backed away. He knew Wang Yu was an inner sect disciple—a powerful cultivator nearing the Golden Core Realm. He was not someone a Qi Refining disciple could provoke.

“Senior Brother Wang…” Liu Xu steeled himself, relying on his own hidden backer. “This is private business between us and Shen Xian.”

“Private business?” Wang Yu straightened up. In an instant, every trace of drunkenness vanished.

Seven spirit patterns flared to life on his wooden sword, gleaming brilliantly.

“Open your dog eyes and see clearly!”

With a flick of his wrist, a blue boulder nearby split in two with a clean, mirror-like cross-section.

“This man is my Young Master,” Wang Yu said, each word carrying the weight of a mountain. “I, Wang Yu, have sworn him my loyalty. Whoever wants to touch him must first answer to my blade.”

The onlookers gasped. In the cultivation world, the title “Young Master” was not used lightly. It implied a master-servant bond that transcended mere friendship.

That a cultivator nearing the Golden Core Realm would acknowledge a “waste” at the Qi Refining Realm as his master was unimaginable to them.

What they didn’t realize was that Wang Yu was shrewd. His own family was in decline; without a powerful backer like the Shen Family, his future was a dead end. He had chosen Shen Xian with full intent to curry favor, and he had been fortunate enough to win approval.

Liu Xu and his cronies broke into a cold sweat. If Wang Yu was determined to interfere, they didn’t stand a chance.

“Are you still here?” Wang Yu roared, his sword patterns blazing. “If I see you harass the Young Master again, it won’t be a stone that breaks next time!”

“Yes! Right away!” Liu Xu and the others scrambled, fleeing like frightened rabbits.

The crowd scattered, though their eyes lingered on the scene in shock. Who would have thought the town drunk, Wang Yu, would stand so forcefully for a “waste”?

Shen Xian watched the display, a flicker of satisfaction in his gaze. It seemed his choice in an enforcer hadn’t been wrong after all.