"Well, at least this saves me a lot of trouble."
A glint of smug satisfaction flashed in Feng San's eyes.
That coward of a senior brother didn't even dare to face Song Wanníng, a mere ascended cultivator. Good thing he was smart enough to handle it himself. Once he regained their lost face, their master would surely value him even more.
Then, the secret formula for the pill inheritance would be his.
Thinking of that, he quickened his pace, leading his group toward the battle platform.
The disciples who'd been watching from the sidelines immediately got up and followed. Everyone loved a bit of chaos, calling out to their friends as they hurried after him. Soon, more and more people were making their way to the platform.
The battle arena of the Wújí Sect was built halfway up the mountain, a vast venue reinforced with spatial formations. Even with tens of thousands of people, it would still have room to spare.
By the time Song Wanníng arrived, quite a crowd had already gathered.
She paused, noticing the excitement in their eyes, and couldn't help but curl her lips slightly.
They seemed even more thrilled about this fight than she was.
Then Feng San strutted in with his people, acting all high and mighty. A bunch of disciples immediately surrounded him, fawning and flattering.
"Junior Brother Ouyang's sure to win this! Let that girl see what you're made of!"
"Exactly! We're all ready to celebrate your victory!"
As alchemists, Feng San's group had always enjoyed a special status among the disciples. After all, once you entered the Immortal Realm, the so-called prodigies from the lower worlds were nothing special anymore.
Except for those born into immortal families, everyone else was an ascended genius from some world below. Talent meant little here, but pills were priceless.
No one wanted to offend people like Feng San, so they eagerly buttered him up.
"Heh, nothing's decided yet," Feng San said airily, waving his hand like it didn't matter. Then he turned to whisper at Ouyang Lin, his tone cold and sharp. "Take her down the moment you make your move. If you lose, think carefully about how you'll explain it to Master."
A dark gleam flickered in his eyes. This battle wasn't just about their pride—it was about their master's reputation.
They could only win, never lose.
"I know."
Ouyang Lin nodded heavily, murderous intent burning in his eyes. He wasn't the type to go easy on a pretty face. Whether she was a dragon or a phoenix, once she stepped into his territory, she'd crawl.
He leapt onto the stage in one motion and waved at Song Wanníng.
"Junior Sister Song, please."
He smiled gently, his expression bright and warm—if one ignored the killing intent radiating from him.
Song Wanníng didn't waste time either. She rose lightly into the air and landed on the opposite side of the stage.
The moment the two stood in place, the battle platform expanded on its own. In their eyes, it grew tenfold, easily wide enough to hold their fight no matter how fierce it became.
But to the spectators below, nothing changed—they could still see everything clearly.
The crowd grew restless. Just as the duel was about to begin, a cold voice tore through space.
"Feng San, Ouyang Lin, if you've got a problem, come at me. Why bully a newly ascended cultivator?"
The voice fell, and the entire arena fell silent.
Everyone turned toward the source.
Song Wanníng blinked, curious, and looked as well.
A moment later, a confident woman strode into view.
She wore a neat riding outfit, and beside her walked a charming, delicate girl whose beauty was somewhat ruined by the sour look on her face.
Several men followed behind them, each with refined bearing and impressive aura—it was obvious they held high status.
"Who are they?"
Song Wanníng's curiosity deepened.
"Oh, it's Senior Sister Lan Yue," Feng San said without surprise.
A mocking smile crept onto his face.
"Senior Sister Lan Yue can't even manage her own affairs, yet she still has time to meddle in others' business?"
His tone dripped with sarcasm, and several people nearby looked uncomfortable. After all, everyone knew that Lan Yue had clashed with her fellow disciples more than once.
Seeing her arrive with this group today was… unexpected.
Under the weight of everyone's curious gazes, Situ Yue grew visibly irritated.
"Seriously, it's just some ascended cultivator. Why'd Master even call us here?" she muttered in annoyance.
Her master had grown more and more impatient with her these past years, disapproving of everything she did.
And now, when she finally got summoned, it was only to back up some ascended nobody?
What, did she look that free?
"Junior Sister, just bear with it for now," one of the senior brothers whispered soothingly. "Master gave us this task, so we'd better do it properly."
"Yeah, just endure it for a bit."
The senior brothers quickly surrounded her, trying to calm her down.
Meanwhile, Lan Yue stood apart from them, her aura distant and cold, a clear divide between her and the rest.
Anyone could see there was bad blood between them.
"Feng San, I didn't come here to meddle," Lan Yue said bluntly, stepping past the group and walking straight to the foot of the stage.
She looked up at Song Wanníng, who met her gaze calmly. For a moment, their eyes locked—filled not with hostility, but a quiet, mutual respect.
Song Wanníng smiled, and Lan Yue's tense expression softened slightly. She nodded back.
Then Lan Yue turned to Feng San and said, "This Junior Sister Song received our master's alchemy inheritance back in the lower realm. Though she already had a teacher and couldn't formally become Master's disciple, she's still recognized as his little apprentice. Master's been away from the sect these past years, but once he heard about her, he immediately set out to return. He asked us to find her first, to make sure she wasn't bullied.
So tell me, Feng San, am I meddling?"
Her cold tone made everyone flinch.
Mu Zixu and their master had always been at odds, and that rivalry had long spread to their disciples.
Seeing Feng San and his group ganging up on someone like this made her blood boil. There was no way she'd let them get away with it.
As soon as she finished, the crowd erupted.
"No wonder Song Wanníng and Mu Xiānjūn don't get along! Could it be because of Dao Qing Xiānjūn?"
"I bet it is! Everyone knows those two were—well, you know…"
"Still, to take it out on a young girl like that, Mu Xiānjūn's really gone too far."
"Shh! Do you have a death wish? Mu Xiānjūn never forgets a grudge!"
"Tsk, Song Wanníng's really got it good. First Mo Yang Xiānzūn, now Dao Qing Xiānjūn? With those connections, she could walk sideways through the Wújí Sect!"
"Right? I'm so jealous…"
The looks people gave Song Wanníng changed instantly.
With that kind of backing, who dared call her just an ascended cultivator?
She was basically no different from an immortal aristocrat.
Situ Yue's face twisted the moment she heard that, her expression shifting sharply.