"What did she just say? Master's little disciple?"
If Song Wanníng was Master's little disciple, then what did that make her?
Situ Yue's expression darkened for a moment, and she nearly lost her composure.
She'd always thought Song Wanníng was just some lucky newcomer who picked up scraps. She never imagined Master would value her that much. Her heart twisted with jealousy, and the look she gave Song Wanníng grew increasingly hostile.
"You're saying she inherited Martial Uncle Dao Qing's legacy?"
Feng San's voice shot up an octave, filled with disbelief.
Ouyang Lin also turned to stare at Song Wanníng in shock.
Anyone who could receive Dao Qing's inheritance and earn such attention had to be extraordinary.
A sense of crisis crept over them both.
Song Wanníng could refine pills!
"That's right."
Lan Yue nodded firmly.
Feng San's expression froze, then twisted into one of deep loathing.
"So it was true. No wonder Master hated her so much—she was connected to that bastard Dao Qing!"
He shot Song Wanníng a venomous look and said with a thin, mocking smile, "Then congratulations to you, Senior Sister Lan Yue.
But this wager was accepted by Song Daoyou herself. Whether she's Dao Qing Martial Uncle's disciple or not makes no difference. Did you forget the rules of the battle platform?"
His tone turned cold, eyes flashing with defiance as his competitiveness flared.
"Ouyang Lin, what are you waiting for?"
He glanced back at Ouyang Lin, his eyes sharp with warning.
Once you set foot on the platform, there was no backing down.
Ouyang Lin understood. He raised his hand, and a pitch-black spear appeared in his grasp as killing intent surged from his body.
Song Wanníng quietly drew her gaze back. Now she finally understood who Lan Yue and her group were. She hadn't expected Dao Qing Xiānjūn's disciples to come and stand up for her.
A faint warmth bloomed in her chest, and a small smile tugged at her lips. At least Lan Yue's concern for her wasn't fake.
Still, since she'd accepted the duel, she couldn't withdraw.
But before the fight could begin, Lan Yue suddenly drew her sword and pointed it straight at Feng San.
"Feng San, what's the meaning of this?
You know full well that Junior Sister Song just ascended, yet you're still ganging up on her. Don't you think that's going too far?
If you like duels so much, why don't you take me on instead?"
So the challenge couldn't be canceled, huh?
Fine.
Then Feng San could suffer the same!
Her words dropped like thunder, and Feng San's face turned black as ink.
The surrounding disciples gasped. No one had expected Lan Yue to directly challenge Feng San on the battle platform.
Wouldn't that completely crush him?
Their gazes turned strange as Lan Yue held her ground, eyes locked tightly on him.
Song Wanníng thought for a moment but stayed silent.
This was no longer just about someone standing up for her—it was tied to the old grudges between their factions.
"You—"
Feng San hadn't expected Lan Yue to come up with such a vicious counter. For a moment, he didn't even know what to say.
Lan Yue's cultivation was far above his. If he accused her of bullying the weak, it would only make him look worse, since they'd started this mess themselves just to vent at Song Wanníng.
There was no reasoning his way out.
His jaw tightened, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't force out the word "agree."
Right then, another voice rang out, breaking the tense silence.
"Well, isn't this lively? I heard there's a cute new little sister in the sect, so I came to see for myself!"
The newcomer wore a long crimson robe, his black hair lazily draped over his shoulders. His casual posture carried a hint of dangerous charm.
The moment he appeared, the entire crowd fell silent. Disciples tried to shrink behind pillars, terrified of being noticed.
"Senior Brother Luo!"
Feng San's heart dropped.
Why now, of all times?!
Wasn't this troublemaker supposed to be traveling with Martial Uncle Feng?
Luo Xingyao didn't respond. Wherever he walked, people instantly made way for him.
In just a few breaths, a clear path opened before him.
Song Wanníng raised an eyebrow. The guy's presence was no joke. He looked like someone you really didn't want to mess with.
But then, oddly enough, he walked straight toward her—and winked.
Song Wanníng froze for a moment, then something clicked in her mind. "You're Senior Feng's disciple?"
If he wasn't Feng Jiuxiao's disciple, there was no reason for him to show up here.
"Correct!"
A bright smile lit Luo Xingyao's face as he looked her up and down, eyes glinting with amusement.
"Little Junior Sister, I've been waiting for you for so long!"
The whole place exploded in shock.
What the hell?!
Wasn't Song Wanníng connected to Dao Qing Xiānjūn?
How was she suddenly tied to Feng Xiānjūn too?
Just what kind of monster was this woman?!
Everyone was dumbfounded. Even Lan Yue looked stunned.
Feng San and his companions stood frozen, faces shifting wildly between disbelief and despair.
Situ Yue's face also darkened, twisting with jealousy.
Why was everyone protecting her?
Mo Yang Xiānzūn, Dao Qing Xiānjūn, Feng Jiuxiao Xiānjūn…
Each one was an exalted figure within the sect!
She clenched her fists tightly, fury bubbling in her chest. She was supposed to be the beloved one in this story—the one all the great figures favored. How did Song Wanníng steal it all away?
From that moment, deep hostility sprouted in her heart. Even without open conflict, she already despised her.
"Senior Brother Luo, I already have a master. I can't take another one."
Song Wanníng's tone was apologetic as she explained.
But deep down, she was thrilled. Her parents had worried she'd be alone after ascending, but clearly, she was anything but. Her support was terrifyingly strong.
The thought made her smile.
Luo Xingyao's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in her radiant smile.
"No matter. Master said you're her last personal disciple, and that makes you my only Junior Sister.
From now on, Zhetian Peak is your home."
He'd been watching from the shadows for a while now, and he already knew Dao Qing's group had their eyes on her.
But no way. His Junior Sister belonged to Zhetian Peak. He finally had such a beautiful little sister, and he wasn't about to let anyone snatch her away.
"Feng San, are you sure you still want to fight my Junior Sister today?"
Ignoring Song Wanníng's protest, Luo Xingyao's voice dropped to a lazy yet chilling tone.
Feng San stiffened, a wave of cold running down his spine. Of all people, this was the one he didn't want to provoke.
Luo Xingyao's talent in formations was terrifying. Even though his cultivation wasn't much higher than theirs, his combat power was monstrous. He'd once used formations to kill a Tianxian.
Worse, he was vindictive. If you offended him, you'd suffer for it later. Maybe you wouldn't die, but you'd wish you had.
Just thinking about it made Feng San's scalp ache. And to make it worse, Martial Uncle Feng herself was a supreme expert—one of the most powerful formation masters in the entire Immortal Realm.
He'd only wanted to vent his master's anger, but now, he bitterly regretted it.
Unlike Mo Yang Xiānzūn, Martial Uncle Feng wasn't one to ignore trouble. She'd absolutely act on it.
Now, he was trapped.
He couldn't back down, and he couldn't move forward.
He was doomed either way.