Wu Meiying’s smile probably looked enchanting to most people. Indeed, even though she wore a veil to hide her face, the way her eyes crinkled caused the men and even a few women to look like they’d been struck by lightning. Only Wu Jian knew the truth. Behind her smile was a hidden malice brought about by intense irritation.

Wu Meiying never did like it when people insulted him.

“Big Sis is angry,” Youmei muttered as she cowered behind Wu Jian.

“Is there a problem with how I spend my time or who I spend it with?”

It was a simple question, but it brought Luo Feng up short. He looked like he didn’t know what to say, but he seemed to realize that his approach was wrong. Wu Jian had to grant him that.

“No… there’s nothing wrong with how you spend your time. I am… only thinking about your reputation. This young man is but a newly initiated disciple. He might have won that tournament in the Xia Dynasty, but such things mean little to us here. He has not yet proven himself worthy of spending time with someone of your status.”

Luo Feng wasn’t necessarily wrong if they took his words within the context of their respective social positions and how they were supposed to conform themselves. Wu Meiying’s title of Lady Oracle was a symbol of her status and position within the sect, a testament to the importance and respect that had been placed upon her. She had a reputation within the sect.

By expressing concern for her reputation, Luo Feng was both absolving himself of any wrongdoing by simply making it seem like he worried for her. It was true. Spending time with a newly initiated disciple could tarnish Wu Meiying’s reputation, if she cared about such things. It just went to show Wu Jian how little Luo Feng knew about her. Upholding her image and the prestige associated with it meant about as much to Wu Meiying as the bugs people might accidentally step on during their morning walk.

While his words seemed like harmless concern at a glance, Luo Feng was also dismissing Wu Jian’s achievements, calling them insignificant within the context of the sect. It reflected the sect’s perspective, where accomplishments outside the sect may not carry the same weight as those achieved within the sect. It also underscored Luo Feng’s prejudice and condescension toward Wu Jian.

He’s jealous.

That was the conclusion Wu Jian reached.

“You were not present during the tournament, so I’ll forgive you for your ignorance,” Wu Meiying said. Her voice was mild, placid, and pleasant to hear. Only Wu Jian heard the thorns hidden beneath it. “Listen up! Jian Wu did not just win the International Power Ranking Tournament! He also defeated numerous Deva Realm experts even though he was in the Human Limit Realm at the time! Not only that, but he broke through the Deva Realm while in the middle of a battle against a Seeker Realm expert!”

Her words were enough to stun the ground. Many leaned in to whoever was nearby and began whispering. Wu Jian could hear each individual conversation thanks to his hearing, but he didn’t pay them much attention, focused as he was on Luo Feng.

“Is… is that so… that’s… quite the achievement… I suppose.”

The man looked like he had swallowed a frog, what with the way his face twitched as though he had just been force fed the worst food he had ever tasted.

Wu Meiying wasn’t done.

“Not only that, but during his breakthrough, Jian Wu was struck by Tribulation Lightning nine times! Nine!”

Gasps went up. This was not news that had been given to them, so of course, they would be shocked. The Heavenly Tribulation was a dangerous task that only a few cultivators would dare to undertake. Even within the Heavenly Sword Sect, which had the most Deva Realm cultivators of every sect and nation, the number of people willing to ascend that high was miniscule compared to the number of those at the Human Limit Realm.

“How many times did you get struck by Tribulation Lightning?” asked Wu Meiying.

“Ah… well… you know… it’s not… necessarily the number that matters,” Luo Feng hedged. “It’s also the strength of the lightning.”

“The lightning Jian Wu was struck by was so strong that I could feel my body reverberate after each strike, and I was all the way up in the VIP stands,” Wu Meiying countered, as if to dismiss Luo Feng’s claims. “You don’t seem to understand how amazing his achievements are, so I’ll spell them out for you. Jian Wu is far stronger than you. If he wanted to, he could crush you like an ant. You might have a better reputation within this sect, but that’s only because you have been here for most of your life. Jian Wu’s achievements out there in the real world are far greater than anything you’ve ever done. I suggest you check yourself before you wreck yourself.”

Luo Feng’s face turned bright red. It was hard to tell if he was embarrassed, angry, or both. Not that Wu Meiying seemed to care. She grabbed Wu Jian’s hand, then grabbed Youmei’s hand, and walked off, leaving the man to stew in his feelings of inferiority and the shame of being snubbed by a woman he was so clearly smitten with.

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“I see you haven’t changed much,” Wu Jian said with a chuckle. “You’re just as harsh towards people now as you ever were.”

“I refuse to let people insult you,” Wu Meiying confessed. Then she sighed. “I did let myself get worked up, but this is good for us. News of your accomplishments in the tournament will spread and more people will become interested in you. Once you’ve demolished the Crimson Swords, I imagine the other factions will come after you to test themselves. They’ll make for good practice.”

“One can always hope,” Wu Jian said.

A loud grumbling sound echoed around them. Wu Meiying and Wu Jian looked down at Youmei. She gazed up at them as she rubbed her belly.

“Youmei’s hungry. Can we eat now?”

Wu Meiying gave her an indulgent smile. “Sure, let’s go find grab some food. I know a lovely cafe that sells the most amazing Jian Bing.”

***

Luo Feng had never been so humiliated in his entire life! Dammit! He had come all this way to humiliate the upstart of a disciple, only for this to happen?!

Luo Feng had considered it his good fortune when he heard that Jian Wu was traveling into town. He hadn’t heard that Wu Meiying would be with him. That had been a mistake on his part. Despite that, he had done his best to lure the woman’s interest away from Jian Wu by presenting logical reasons she shouldn’t spend so much time with him. All he had done was express his concern about her reputation. How could she humiliate him like that?! He was just looking out for her!

“Damn that stupid bitch. She should be grateful that I’m willing to spend so much time on her!”

Luo Feng did not intend to insult Wu Meiying. He really didn’t. Hee was just so angry. He had gone out of his way to be kind, done everything he could to earn her attention, and this no-name initiate who just joined barely a month ago had earned her favor just because he won some tournament. It was inconceivable.

Wu Meiying was the goal of every man within the sect; she was exceptionally beautiful and held the most esteemed title of the Lady Oracle. Her beauty was the kind that you could search the entire world for and never find. That she existed at all was like a gift from the heavens. Beauty and status were everything in this world. Who wouldn’t want to possess such a woman?

Of course, it was even more than that. Every man who held great status within the sect had been competing against each other for Wu Meiying’s affection. Luo Feng would have been upset if someone else among the factions had stolen her away, but he could have at least accepted his loss with grace. It was inconceivable that some random newcomer was gaining preferential treatment when he hadn’t even established himself in the sect.

Nestled within the towering embrace of a powerful mountain, the Crimson Swords Faction boasted its stronghold. The mountain was known as Mount Hongse. It had been given this name because, when the sun rose and set, the mountain lit up like crimson flames. The mountain’s slopes were cloaked in lush vegetation, vibrant red and crimson flora that reflected the faction’s name. Ancient pine trees with twisting branches adorned the lower reaches, while red azaleas bloomed like fiery stars along the pathway leading up.

Accessible only via a narrow and winding path carved into the mountainside, the compound for their faction was connected to the outside world by the Crimson Bridge, made from the finest redwood and spanning a chasm of swirling mist. Upon crossing the bridge, Luo Feng arrived at the grand plaza. It was a spacious courtyard paved with reddish-gold stone. A colossal statue of the faction’s founder, Elder Zhou Zhang, stood in the center, wielding a beautiful jian as though preparing to remove it from its sheath.

“Young Master Feng, good day!”

“Greetings, young master.”

“Master Feng, I hope your meeting with the Lady Oracle went well.”

Many disciples greeted him as he walked by. He was not in the mood to talk, but he still had a reputation to uphold, so he greeted them cordially, even as he thought about how annoying they all were. Could these insects not see that he was depressed?

He ascended higher into the mountain via a series of terraces and stone steps, leading to the Inner Sanctum, a sacred space nestled among ancient pine forests. A grand pavilion with red lacquered pillars and an ornate roof housed offices and chambers for those disciples who had proven themselves worthy.

His destination was higher up.

Located at the very peak of the mountain was Elder Zhou Zhang’s abode, a tranquil sanctuary surrounded by an azure sea of clouds. A crimson-roofed pagoda stood at the summit. It was a massive edifice that stood in defiance of the mountain’s already intimidating height, as though to extend the Crimson Sword Faction’s reach even further into the heavens. That was where the elder resided.

Luo Feng entered the pagoda through a massive set of double doors.

The heart of this abode was the Crimson Hall. This vast chamber was adorned with intricate wooden lattice screens and elegant crimson curtains. The hall exuded an air of understated luxury. Its high ceilings were supported by richly carved pillars, their surfaces etched with verses of ancient martial scriptures. A crystal clear spring flowed through the hall, a single glimmer of blue amidst a ray of vibrant red, its soothing babble merging with the distant song of the wind.

Elder Zhang Zhou’s private chamber was at the top of the pagoda, a place the disciples called The Dragon’s Nest. It was a name they had given to it because of the elder’s title. He was the Sleeping Crimson Dragon, a name he had earned because people his ferocity was like the wrath of a dragon and all enemies saw of him before they perished was a flash of brilliant crimson light.

“Master, it is me,” Luo Feng said.

There was a long pause before an austere voice echoed from within the chamber. “Enter.”

The Dragon’s Nest was a tranquil space filled with calligraphy scrolls, decorative swords, and elegant furnishings. Luo Feng was careful not to touch anything as he walked in. A colossal ink painting of a soaring dragon with a sword in its maw dominated one wall. A low, lacquered table sat in the center of the room. The elder sat there, enjoying some afternoon tea.

Luo Feng knelt before the man, hands before his face as though he was unworthy of looking at his master, head bowed to show reverence.

“Disciple Luo Feng greets his master, Elder Zhang Zhou.”