Tian Hao stepped forward, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs, the sudden spotlight intensifying the nervous flutter in his stomach. He bowed towards his father and the assembled elders, his voice carrying a forced calmness that belied his inner turmoil. "Sect Master, with your permission…"

Tian Shou, his face etched with a mixture of apprehension and reluctant pride, nodded. “Proceed, Tian Hao. Let us see what you are capable of.”

Big Sister System whispered in his mind, her tone a mix of encouragement and warning. “Remember, Little Hao, finesse. If you make a fool of yourself, you might blow any chance of completing your quest tonight!”

“Big Sister System, please!” Tian Hao pleaded inwardly, his mental voice laced with a desperate urgency. “Help this little Hao out. Please, please, please.” He knew he was pushing his luck, but the thought of facing a Golden Feather Sect disciple in a duel, especially with Zhao Fei watching, was enough to send shivers down his spine.

BSS sighed, a long, drawn-out sound that echoed in his mind like a celestial groan. “Very well, little Hao, but be warned. There will be… karmic consequences for this kind of indulgence. You’re playing with fire here.”

“I can worry about those later,” Tian Hao replied, his mental voice filled with a reckless determination. “Right now, I need to survive this duel with some semblance of dignity intact.”

A surge of warmth spread through him as BSS imparted the knowledge of a new skill—Wine-Fueled Fury. It wasn’t a refined technique, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it was certainly… unorthodox. The skill enhanced his strength and speed, but more importantly, it made his movements less predictable, his fighting style infused with a chaotic energy fueled by the alcohol he consumed. It was a risky gamble, but it was the only advantage he had.

With that, Tian Hao strode towards the nearest table laden with refreshments. He grabbed a full glass of wine, the ruby-red liquid sloshing precariously as he downed half of it in one gulp, feeling the warmth spread through him, igniting a spark of reckless abandon. He refilled the glass to the brim, his movements deliberate, almost theatrical, before turning towards the designated dueling space in the center of the courtyard.

The whispers and snickers followed him like a shadow, a chorus of mockery that fueled his determination. He heard the phrases “drunken fool,” “hopeless wastrel,” and “embarrassment to the sect” tossed around like casual insults.

He faced the Golden Feather Sect disciple, a tall, muscular young man with a sneer plastered across his face. The disciple, whose name Tian Hao vaguely recalled as Jin Bao, grinned widely, clearly viewing this as an opportunity to humiliate the so-called "hedonistic young master." He gestured towards Tian Hao's wine glass with a mocking flourish. “I see the young master has brought his… courage… with him,” he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Perhaps you plan to drown your sorrows before I even begin?”

Tian Hao simply smirked, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Just preparing for a… spirited… duel,” he replied, his tone light but laced with an underlying edge. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint my audience, after all.”

They exchanged formal bows, the tension crackling in the air between them like static electricity. Jin Bao’s eyes gleamed with malicious anticipation, his posture radiating arrogance. Tian Hao, however, forced himself to remain calm, his gaze steady, his grip on his wine glass firm.

The moment the signal was given, Jin Bao lunged forward, his movements swift and powerful, his fist aimed at Tian Hao’s chest. Tian Hao, fueled by the Wine-Fueled Fury, reacted instinctively, sidestepping the blow with surprising agility. He stumbled slightly, sloshing wine onto his robes, but he managed to maintain his balance, drawing a surprised gasp from the crowd.

“What was that, Young Master? Did you trip over your own feet?” Jin Bao taunted, his voice filled with amusement. “Or perhaps the wine is already affecting your… coordination?”

Tian Hao grinned, taking another sip of his wine before dodging another blow. His strategy wasn’t to overpower his opponent—he knew that was impossible with his current strength—but rather to dodge, deflect, and stay on his feet long enough to make it seem like a true contest. He weaved and bobbed, his movements unpredictable, fueled by the chaotic energy of the wine, surprising Jin Bao, and himself, with his agility.

“A coward’s tactic!” Jin Bao roared, his frustration growing as Tian Hao continued to evade his attacks. “Face me like a man, you pathetic drunk!” He lunged again, his fist connecting with Tian Hao’s shoulder, sending him staggering backward.

Tian Hao gritted his teeth, the impact jarring. He took another swig of wine, the liquid fire spreading through him, dulling the pain and sharpening his senses. He still hadn’t figured out how to effectively use the Wine-Fueled Fury—he was spilling more wine on himself and the ground than he was drinking—but he was determined not to give up. He had to keep moving, keep dodging, keep the illusion of a challenge alive.

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He made a series of seemingly clumsy but surprisingly effective moves, each one infused with a mix of desperation and his technique. He ducked low, narrowly avoiding Jin Bao's strike, before pivoting awkwardly to the side, his footwork almost a stumble but just precise enough to evade another blow. 'How am I even doing this?' Tian Hao wondered, a mix of surprise and disbelief flashing through his mind. It felt as though his body was moving on its own, each twist and turn driven by something beyond him.

With a sudden, wild twist of his torso, Tian Hao lashed out with an open palm, striking Jin Bao's wrist and redirecting an attack off course. 'It’s like I’m a puppet,' he thought, struggling to make sense of his erratic but effective moves. Big Sister System, are you sure this is all me?

BSS chuckled in his mind, her voice tinged with amusement. "Oh, Little Hao, don't sell yourself short. There are some very useful assists from the technique—it's not entirely you, but it wouldn't work without your instincts either. To be honest, you look a bit like a drunken marionette, but it's effective, right?"

He half rolled to the side, barely keeping his balance, then lunged forward, his hand swiping at Jin Bao's midsection—not with strength, but with just enough force to make Jin Bao step back. 'Did I really just do that?' Tian Hao thought incredulously, almost wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it all. 'If I survive this, I might just need to thank the wine for giving me these 'legendary' moves.'

The crowd erupted in laughter at his maneuvers, yet the grudging respect began to build, as they realized Tian Hao's chaotic style was keeping him in the fight longer than anyone expected. With each near miss, each unexpected dodge, the whispers shifted, the mockery tinged with a hint of surprise, a flicker of uncertainty. Even Zhao Fei, watching from the sidelines, seemed taken aback, her eyes widening slightly as Tian Hao managed to stay on his feet.

Finally, sensing an opportunity, Tian Hao feigned a stumble, his body lurching forward awkwardly, as if he’d lost his footing. Jin Bao, eager to capitalize on what he thought was a sure victory, lunged forward, his guard down. But Tian Hao’s stumble was a calculated move. As Jin Bao approached, Tian Hao twisted his body, using the momentum of his fall to propel himself forward, his outstretched hand connecting with Jin Bao’s chest in a swift, unexpected tap. It wasn’t a powerful blow, not enough to injure, but it was enough to push Jin Bao off balance, causing him to stumble backward, momentarily conceding an advantage to Tian Hao.

The gasp from the crowd was audible, the sudden shift in the duel’s momentum drawing a collective intake of breath. Tian Hao, his heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and excitement, caught Zhao Fei’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. Her surprise, her intrigue—it fueled him, giving him a renewed surge of confidence.

But the moment of distraction cost him. Jin Bao, recovering quickly, used Tian Hao’s momentary lapse in focus to his advantage, landing a solid blow to Tian Hao’s side. Tian Hao staggered, his breath catching in his throat, the impact sending a sharp jolt of pain through him.

Despite the pain, Tian Hao refused to give up. He continued to dodge and deflect, his movements becoming more erratic, the Wine-Fueled Fury amplifying his reflexes but also making his actions increasingly unpredictable. He wasn’t fighting with skill, but with sheer determination and a reckless abandon fueled by the wine and the desire to prove himself—not just to his opponent, but to Zhao Fei, to his father, and to himself.

He managed to avoid Jin Bao's next strike but stumbled and dropped his now nearly empty glass, most of what was left splashing on his front.

The duel continued for a few more tense moments, the two disciples locked in a dance of near misses and glancing blows. Tian Hao, exhausted but exhilarated, knew he couldn’t keep this up much longer. He was tiring, his movements growing slower, his reflexes dulled by the combination of exertion and alcohol.

Just as Jin Bao lunged forward, preparing for what he thought would be the final blow, Tian Hao made a desperate move. He stumbled towards Jin Bao, his body weaving in an almost drunken arc. At the last moment, Tian Hao dropped to one knee, sweeping his leg out in a wide arc to knock Jin Bao off balance. As Jin Bao's stance wavered, Tian Hao twisted his torso and planted one palm firmly against the disciple's chest, and another one right onto the side of his face, channeling the remaining chaotic energy into a forceful push. Jin Bao staggered, his arms flailing as he fought to regain his footing, nearly falling. Tian Hao used the momentum to roll away and spring back up, his breathing ragged but his stance still defiant. The unexpected maneuver left both fighters at a stalemate—neither with a clear advantage.

The signal for the end of the duel sounded, a deep gong echoing through the courtyard, marking the end of the allotted time. The two disciples, panting and bruised, stood facing each other, neither having gained a decisive victory.

Elder Jin stepped forward, his expression a mix of surprise and grudging respect. He looked at Tian Hao, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “You have some spirit, Young Master Tian,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of approval. “Perhaps there is hope for your sect yet.”

Tian Shou looked visibly relieved, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he gave Tian Hao a small, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment. Elder Hua, her expression still stern, seemed less furious than Tian Hao had expected, though still far from pleased.

As Tian Hao made his way back to his table, the tension in the courtyard easing as the duel concluded and the feast resumed, he could feel the shift in the way the other disciples looked at him. The whispers were no longer filled only with mockery, but with a few positive words, a hint of surprise. He’d proven them wrong, shown them that he wasn’t just a spoiled young master who hid behind his father’s status.

Zhao Fei turned to him as he sat down, her expression less dismissive and more intrigued. “Not bad for someone who supposedly never cultivates,” she commented, her voice carrying a hint of respect, though she continued sipping her wine as if not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a full compliment.

Tian Hao smiled, feeling Big Sister System's approval in his mind. “Progress, Little Hao. Now, let’s see if you can capitalize on this newfound interest.”

The feast continued, the atmosphere now lighter, the tension eased by the unexpected outcome of the duel. Tian Hao, his body aching but his spirit soaring, turned to Zhao Fei, a mischievous glint in his eye. “So,” he began, his voice casual, “about those… pleasures we were discussing earlier…”