At the entrance of the Rainfall Pavilion, Wei Zhaoli stared at the radiant treasure before her, her pupils trembling.

“This is…” Her voice carried a hint of hesitation.

Shen Xian held the translucent jade plate casually, spiritual light swirling between his fingers. “A high-grade magical treasure from my mother. I have no use for it.”

This item had been placed in Nangong Wan’s storage ring specifically to aid him in his cultivation breakthroughs. Since he had no intention of actually cultivating, it was far more useful as a tool to trigger a system return.

Wei Zhaoli’s breath hitched. As an elite inner sect disciple, she understood the staggering value of a high-grade magical treasure. Even with her status, she only possessed one herself.

“It is too precious,” she said, taking a half-step back, her voice barely audible. “Moreover, this was a gift from your mother…”

Before she could finish, Shen Xian stepped forward and pressed the jade plate into her hand, allowing no refusal. His warm fingertips brushed against her cool palm, sending a faint shiver through her.

Wei Zhaoli looked down at the Mystic Spirit Plate, its intricate patterns shimmering in harmony with her own spiritual rhythm.

“Between us…” Shen Xian’s voice carried a lazy, charming lilt. “If we continue to be this polite, wouldn’t our engagement seem rather ridiculous?”

The words struck Wei Zhaoli’s heart like a velvet hammer. She remembered her initial calculations when she first approached him—how she had merely sought to leverage the Shen Family’s influence.

“I…” She looked up, her words dying in her throat as she met Shen Xian’s smiling eyes.

There was no scheming in his gaze, no weighing of pros and cons—only genuine sincerity. As a gentle breeze tousled a lock of hair by her ear, Wei Zhaoli realized her heartbeat had synchronized with the flickering light of the jade plate.

“Mm.”

She gave a slight nod and carefully tucked the treasure into her sleeve. In that moment, she made a silent vow: once she emerged from seclusion, she would find a gift of even greater value to return to him.

[Host has gifted Dao Companion a high-grade magical treasure: Mystic Spirit Plate. Fifty-fold blessing return triggered.]

[Reward: High-grade spiritual treasure—Myriad Spirits Heavenly Soil Map. Claim now?]

Shen Xian didn’t check the prompt immediately. He kept his gaze on her, his voice as soft as a spring breeze. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Wei Zhaoli nodded. As she turned to leave, the hem of her skirt traced an elegant arc. She paused after a few steps, her lips parting as if to say more, but she settled on: “I will be quick.”

As her graceful figure faded into the distance, Shen Xian finally examined his new prize. When his divine sense swept over the Myriad Spirits Heavenly Soil Map, his pupils contracted.

This high-grade spiritual treasure could actually accelerate the maturation of spiritual plants!

“Interesting,” he murmured.

Such a heaven-defying object could alter the destiny of an entire clan. Rare treasures that usually took millennia to mature could now be harvested in a fraction of the time. With a thought, he stored the map in his system space. There was no hurry to use it yet.

Five days later, the sect minor competition began.

The venue was Sword Peak, the trial ground for the Divine Wood Sect’s elite. Under the blazing sun, seventy-two dark iron pillars stood atop the Illusory Sword Platform like giants, their surfaces etched with dark-golden runes.

An ancient bronze mirror at the center projected distorted shadows, enveloping the platform in a hazy spiritual mist. Steward disciples hurried back and forth with array flags, adjusting the pillars to unleash the formation’s full power.

Shen Xian leaned against a stone railing at the edge of the crowd, idly playing with a dragon-shaped jade pendant. He watched Wang Yu squeeze through the throng to collect a jade slip—the token used for recording trial points.

“Look over there—isn’t that the Shen Family’s useless heir?” A deliberately loud sneer erupted nearby.

Several inner sect disciples in blue robes gathered together, casting mocking glances at Shen Xian.

“I heard he didn’t even dare to sign up. Tsk tsk…”

“What guts would a Qi Refining Realm waste have? He only sneaked into the inner sect because of his name.”

“I can’t understand why Senior Sister Wei would stand up for such trash.”

Wang Yu had just returned with his slip. Hearing the insults, his expression darkened instantly. He strode over to the group and thrust his wooden sword into the ground with a heavy clang.

“Gossiping behind a man’s back is hardly the conduct of a gentleman,” Wang Yu barked.

The lead disciple, Li Yan, was startled but quickly recovered with a cold sneer. “Is Junior Brother Wang standing up for his ‘Young Master’?”

He emphasized the title, drawing snickers from his friends. Li Yan was a half-step Golden Core Realm cultivator; he had no fear of Wang Yu.

Wang Yu narrowed his eyes, the spirit patterns on his sword beginning to glow. “My Young Master doesn’t bother with you because he has class. But if I hear another disrespectful word…”

“What then?” Li Yan took a provocative step forward. “A waste who got in through family connections—are we not allowed to speak the truth?”

Before the words could fully land, a flash of cyan light erupted from Wang Yu’s sword, carving a deep, smoking trench at Li Yan’s feet.

“A servant dies when his master is insulted!” Wang Yu’s voice was as cold as frost. “Within the trial grounds, life and death are disregarded. If I risk failing this trial to take your life, who could stop me?”

Because the competition was restricted to those below the Golden Core Realm, Wang Yu’s peak half-step cultivation made him a lethal threat.

Silence fell. Li Yan felt a chill crawl up his spine. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He eventually snorted, muttering, “Do you think you’re invincible?”

His voice was thin, betraying his sudden terror. No one was willing to stake their life over a minor sect competition.

The bell rang from the high platform. An elder announced loudly, “The illusion realm is opening! All participants, take your positions!”

Li Yan let out a breath of relief. Wang Yu snorted, withdrew his sword, and returned to Shen Xian’s side. His playful, nonchalant grin returned instantly.

“Young Master, want to make a bet? If I make the top five…”

“A jar of hundred-year-old Drunken Immortal Wine,” Shen Xian said, his lips curving upward. “And if you lose?”

“I’m at your disposal,” Wang Yu grinned.

Shen Xian gave a slight nod. “Go. Don’t disappoint me.”

Wang Yu solemnly cupped his hands, turned, and strode toward the eye of the formation.