"Before we adjourn," Bai Yunfei murmured, stopping a few feet away from her. His dark, impossibly deep eyes locked onto her silver-flecked ones. "I have a personal matter to address."
Ji’an’s victory high instantly plumted.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
"As you all saw in the Grand Hall," the Sect Leader smiled, a gentle, paternal expression that completely terrified Ji’an. "My daughter, Liyue, has officially entered society. What you do not know, however, is that during a recent, brief excursion beyond our borders... Liyue found herself in a perilous situation."
The room grew deadly silent.
The elders held their breath.
"She was waylaid by a group of bandits, they appeared to be more like a group of rough cultivators, though..." Bai Yunfei explained smoothly, his eyes never leaving Ji’an’s face. "And she was rescued. By a brave, young, and incredibly valiant cultivator. A cultivator she refers to simply... as her ’Hero’."
Ji’an stopped breathing.
A single, cold bead of sweat broke out at her temple, tracing a slow path down her jawline.
’He knows,’ Ji’an’s mind flatlined, a deafening, continuous dial-tone of panic ringing in her ears. ’He knows about the kidnapping. He knows she was playing house in the Lin Estate. The stray cat told her father everything!’
"Liyue speaks of this ’Hero’ with admiration," the Sect Leader continued, his smile deepening, taking on a sly, political edge. "She claims he is a disciple of our very own sect. A young man of unparalleled courage, fierce protectiveness, and a deeply... unique set of skills."
Bai Yunfei took one half-step closer to Ji’an.
"I am a father, first and foremost," the Sect Leader murmured, his voice dropping so only Ji’an and Jiu Zui could truly hear the undertone of unyielding intent. "And a father must properly thank the man who safeguarded his most precious treasure. Liyue has hinted that this ’Hero’ will be participating in the tournant tomorrow."
The Sect Leader reached out, placing a firm, heavy hand on Ji’an’s shoulder.
It wasn’t a comforting touch.
It was the crushing, inescapable weight of an imperial decree.
"I am eager to et this cultivator, Martial Uncle Lin," Bai Yunfei whispered, his dark eyes sparkling with a terrifying, knowing amusent. "I hope he proves himself in the Shattered Realm. Because a man who captures my daughter’s attention so thoroughly... is a man whose future I intend to take a very, very close interest in."
The Sect Leader patted her shoulder twice, a sound like a guillotine blade being hoisted into place.
He turned away, addressing the room.
"Elders, the summit is adjourned. Prepare your peaks. Tomorrow, the celestial crucible begins."
As the ancient, powerful immortals filed out of the executive sanctum, murmuring excitedly about the new tournant rules, Lin Ji’an stood perfectly, rigidly still in the center of the room.
Master Jiu Zui walked up beside her, finally taking a swig from his gourd.
He looked at his pale, sweating, traumatized apprentice.
"You designed a shrinking do of toxic gas and randomized loot drops to torture the other disciples," Jiu Zui noted casually, a wicked grin on his face. "And the Sect Leader just designed a specialized, inescapable marital trap exclusively for you."
Ji’an stared blankly at the empty doorway.
"I am going to die in that dinsion," Ji’an whispered, her voice completely devoid of hope. "If the beasts don’t kill ... the Sect Leader is going to make his son-in-law."
"Well," Jiu Zui chuckled, turning to leave. "At least you get to cook your own last al. See you at dawn, brat."
As the massive brass doors closed behind her master, leaving her alone in the silent, jade-carved room, Lin Ji’an realized with horrifying clarity that her attempt to control the narrative had backfired spectacularly.
She had built the perfect, inescapable battle royale.
And she was currently the number one target on the server.
The imdiate consequence of successfully pitching a highly lethal, psychologically devastating battle royale to a board of immortal executives was that Lin Ji’an had effectively painted a massive, glowing target directly onto her own forehead.
She was the architect of their impending suffering, and tomorrow morning, when the thousands of disciples entered the Shattered Realm, she would have to survive the very chanics she had gleefully designed.
But tomorrow’s apocalyptic survival match was a problem for tomorrow’s Ji’an.
Tonight’s Ji’an had a much more imdiate, pressing problem to deal with.
She had to host a dinner party.
The rationale behind the dinner had been sound in theory.
Gu Zhiwei, the golden retriever protagonist, had returned to the sect and enthusiastically demanded his promised hotpot.
Wen Shiru, the calculating rchant who had trapped her against a bookshelf just hours earlier, had refused to leave Zhiwei’s side, clinging to the Holy Son under the guise of nursing his pulverized foot.
And Xie Wangchen had made it clear that if Ji’an cooked a al for another man without inviting him, he would likely freeze the entire Drunken Peak to the bedrock in a fit of jealousy.
To maintain the fragile, terrifying equilibrium between the three male prodigies of the sect, Ji’an had no choice but to invite them all.
"This is going to be a disaster," Ji’an muttered, standing in the center of her ticulously maintained outdoor kitchen.
The glowing, two-tailed Nekomata kitten was curled up on a high shelf, observing her with lazy, aristocratic disdain. Ji’an imdiately gave it to Wangchen, and they did sign a contract for real.
Additionally, maybe it was because their nature of power was the sa, Wangchen got along with his beast quite well.
Except for the fact that the nekomata stayed in Ji’an’s kitchen more than they stayed in the Ice Peak.
And Wangchen also low-key approved it to stay, as if to monitor Ji’an without asking.
"I am locking three apex predators in the sa courtyard," Ji’an analyzed, frantically chopping scallions with the speed of a blurring machine. "Zhiwei is oblivious. Shiru is a manipulative sociopath who thinks I am a high-yield corporate asset. And Wangchen is... just Wangchen."
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