The Banquet of Ten Houses
A yearly gathering—more like a staged humiliation for the Jin Family.
As Jin Zhuo described it, "a banquet of wolves, and we've always been the bleeding lamb." Ever since Mu Che's death two years prior, the event had turned into an organized mockery. The remaining nine noble families, backed by the Zhu Family and the Outer Cang Royals, would corner the Jin Family with "games" or duels. The rules were simple: win, and the opponents pay up. Lose, and the Jin Family's debt ballooned further.
They lost—every year. And with each loss, the Jin Family sank deeper into a mire of disgrace and obligation, now drowning in debts worth millions of purple profound coins.
But this year… this year felt different.
For the first time in two years, Jin Zhuo wore the expression of a man who remembered what pride felt like. He had once buried it—alongside his closest friend. But now, with Yun Che and the others by his side, he held his head higher.
Three carriages cut their way through the bustling heart of Xuanwu City. Though only a quarter the size of the Blue Wind Imperial City, it was still massive—rich with towering structures, flowing banners of noble clans, and a network of guards that signified the presence of power.
Yet, it wasn't the size of the city that captured attention—it was the presence riding in those carriages.
Inside were individuals cloaked in veils and mystery—women of incredible beauty and power, none of whom were ordinary cultivators. Each carried an aura that made even the proud nobles look twice. And at the center of it all was Yun Che, sitting casually with a grin that spelled trouble.
Jin Zhuo glanced out the window as the gates of the banquet hall drew near.
Let them come with their smug faces and stacked bets. Let them mock us again.
Because this time, the Jin Family wasn't alone.
This time, the wolves were about to taste their own blood.
That night, the three-carriage convoy steadily approached the grand estate where the Banquet of Ten Houses would be held. Each carriage, elegant yet fortified, bore the symbol of the Jin Family—repolished just hours ago, no longer dulled by shame.
In the first carriage rode Jin Zhuo and Jin Yuelian, seated with dignified posture. Opposite them, Cang Yue sat with hands folded atop her lap, her expression composed but distracted. Beside her were Xue Ling and Lin Yueru, both clad in their striking Imperial Protector uniforms—regal, disciplined, and undeniably sharp.
"You seem tense, dear," Jin Yuelian remarked, glancing at Cang Yue.
"I merely wish I were in the same carriage as him," Cang Yue admitted softly.
Yuelian chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're a princess. Appearances matter. Let the city see that the Blue Wind Empire still stands with grace."
"But my heart doesn't care for appearances," Cang Yue muttered, earning a small smile from Xue Ling.
In the second carriage, it was anything but formal.
Yun Che leaned casually against the window, one leg propped up as if heading to a tavern rather than a political deathmatch. With him were Mulan, who wore her own Imperial Protector attire, and the trio of chaos and elegance—Retsu, Nemu, and Mio, all dressed in dazzling formal kimonos.
Even Yun Che had to blink when he first saw them enter. Each kimono shimmered with delicate motifs—flames, lotus petals, sakura leaves—all embroidered with absurd craftsmanship.
"It's amazing how you three always outshine royalty," he muttered.
"We try," Retsu smirked behind her veil.
Nemu adjusted the sleeves of her priestess-style miko kimono, white with crimson trim, her usual calm expression softened with excitement. Mio sat cross-legged, bouncing slightly with energy, her kimono adorned with storm clouds and lightning threads. She had already punched the seat twice in anticipation.
Meanwhile, Xia Qingyue, ever silent, sat in thoughtful observation. Her snow-white kimono was both elegant and modest, accented by pale blue threads and a translucent veil. It wasn't just beautiful—it was crafted to hide her Frozen Cloud identity.
"This outfit…" Qingyue murmured, glancing at the silk wrapped around her.
"You like it?" Yun Che asked.
"It's strange. Comfortable, but unlike anything I've seen. Where is it from?"
Retsu turned toward her. "The Dead Spirit Realm. Most women there wear something similar—though there are many variations. The Yukata is a simpler version, often used in festivals or casual gatherings. The formal kimono, like the one you're wearing now, is used for ceremonies. And a battle kimono, like what I wore during our duel, is more mobile."
"You have more than one design?" Qingyue asked, intrigued.
"Of course," Nemu chimed in. "Remember Shirayuki and Kuroyuki, the Yuu-sama used to fight you?"
"The sword spirits?"
"They made them," Retsu nodded. "They're not just weapons—they're people. Spirits, yes, but with hobbies. Shirayuki loves weaving, and Kuroyuki… well, she enjoys biscuits, tea, and designing kimonos."
Qingyue blinked. "…Spirits that drink tea and sew clothes?"
Mio chuckled. "Welcome to Danna-sama's world."
Qingyue stared at the intricate embroidery on her sleeves, thoughtful. Even sword spirits had more warmth than she allowed herself.
In the final carriage, Chu Yuechan and Chu Yueli sat in comfortable silence, each dressed in uniquely stylized snow kimonos, specially tailored to conceal their Frozen Cloud Asgard identities. Even here, with no one watching, their presence exuded quiet power.
Chu Yueli broke the silence. "Do you think we'll need to fight tonight?"
Little Fairy's eyes drifted outside. "Most likely."
"…Do you mind?"
"No. If it's for him… I'll fight as many as it takes," Little Fairy—Chu Yuechan—murmured softly, her voice a rare mix of resolve and gentle affection. The light in her eyes betrayed no hesitation. For that man, she'd cross countless mountains and battlefields.
It is what her heart desires.
Her younger sister, Chu Yueli, glanced at her curiously beneath her snow-white veil. "You seem eager to fight for him. What did he do to change you so much?"
Yuechan turned her gaze to the carriage window. The silence lingered for a moment before she replied.
"Do you remember the mysterious expert who healed me when I was on the verge of death?"
"…Don't tell me."
"It was him, Li'er. It was always him."
Chu Yueli's eyes widened. "Heavens… And the one who taught you that strange power—Haki, was it?"
Yuechan gave a small nod. "He is the one who awakened it in me. He taught me everything I know now. Observation and Armament."
Yueli exhaled, almost disbelieving. "And here I thought he was just some incorrigible rascal. Tell me, could I… ask him for tips?"
"He'd teach you," Yuechan said with a knowing smile. "But you'd be more eager to learn if it was from that man, right? Mihawk?"
Yueli paused, a blush threatening to bloom beneath her veil. "He… certainly caught my attention."
"Then," Yuechan replied, voice light, "I'll be sure you're willing to wait for him to teach you instead."
"Love really is an odd thing, Nee-san?" Yueli said, chuckling softly.
Yuechan nodded. "Yes… it truly is. Terrifying, but oddly warm."
The carriage rocked gently as they continued toward the banquet, carrying not just disciples of Frozen Cloud Asgard—but women whose frozen hearts had begun to thaw.
"Ufuu… You're getting to know parts of our lives now, Qingyue," Retsu mused, a teasing glint in her eyes.
"You're going through a lot of trouble just to understand us," Mio added with her usual playful tone, lazily popping another snack into her mouth.
Qingyue nodded solemnly. "Fighting and cultivating alone won't get me anywhere anymore. I've realized that. I want to know all of you… before I can even dream of truly being a part of your group. Just cultivating by myself—no matter how hard I try—won't even get me close to a splinter of your strength."
Retsu gently patted Nemu's head as the smaller girl leaned sleepily on her shoulder. "Ufuu, that's the right mindset. Being alone has its limits. Even I wouldn't be here without my sisters. We all need each other's strengths."
She tilted her head fondly toward Nemu. "I might be able to waterbend and even manipulate fire… but earth and lightning? That's all my precious little sister's domain."
"Lightning bending?" Qingyue's curiosity sparked. "There are other forms of bending?"
"Yup," Yun Che chimed in, leaning back with a smirk. "The major elements: Water, Wind, Fire, Earth, and Lightning. Mastery depends on your affinity, mindset, and training. Retsu here—Water and Fire. Nemu? Earth and Lightning. Mio, on the other hand…"
"…can manipulate air and space," Retsu finished with a grin.
Qingyue blinked. "Spatial bending? That… sounds unreal."
"It is," Yun Che said with a chuckle. "But it's unique to Mio. She was… born with it, or maybe rewritten by it. Either way, it makes her dangerous and adorable."
Mio gave a smug little huff as she chewed. "I am adorable. And dangerous. That's balance."
Qingyue smiled and it was genuine warmth she hadn't felt in years. Slowly but surely, she was becoming part of something that felt more like a family than any sect or clan she'd known.
Mulan sat quietly, watching the easy conversation unfold between Yun Che and the others. She felt it too—that yearning to belong. Though she had taken Yun Che as her "fake husband," Mu Che, somewhere deep inside… she wanted more. To be a part of the strange, close-knit group that had shaped the man he'd become.
She turned to him. "What about you?" Mulan asked softly.
Yun Che scratched the back of his head, a sheepish grin on his face. "Right now? I've got fire down, and I'm almost there with water. Just need a bit more time."
"I want to learn too," Qingyue spoke up, her voice calm but firm.
"If possible… I wish to as well," Mulan added.
"In time, Qingyue. Mulan," Yun Che said gently. "Why do you think I taught Haki to Sister Ling and Yueru first? Once you've grasped that foundation, I'll show you more. Step by step."
Mulan smiled faintly, a rare softness crossing her face.
Qingyue, however, narrowed her eyes at him. "You taught them already?" Her tone carried the faintest hint of jealousy.
"Well, they asked," Yun Che replied, raising his hands in defense. "They're Cang Yue's sworn protectors. I figured it'd be good for them to learn."
"And you just left your wife hanging?" Qingyue pouted, turning away with a dramatic little sulk.
Yun Che laughed awkwardly. "Okay, okay! I'll teach you. Once all this business is settled, I promise. Cross my heart."
Qingyue peeked back over her shoulder, still pouting—but the corner of her mouth twitched upward.
"Better," she muttered, folding her arms.
Mio giggled. "Ufuu… jealous wife mode activated."
Retsu nodded serenely. "That's how you know she's one of us."
The group chuckled, and for a brief moment, the worries of the upcoming banquet faded into the comfort of camaraderie.
Qingyue allowed herself a rare, gentle smile beneath her veil. She never imagined that stepping away from the cold halls of her sect could bring her such calm… such peace. Cultivation alone was hollow without experiences like this—without life.
Beside her, Mulan smiled faintly as well. Deep down, she still held hope—hope that one day, Yun Che would remember, and once again become her beloved Mu Che. For now, she would walk beside him, just as she always had… silently, loyally.
========================
Within the lavish crowd filling the banquet hall, another couple arrived—drawing subtle attention and hushed whispers. Draped in elegant formal robes, their presence was both arrogant and composed. The man had a sly smile with a gleam of cruelty in his eyes; the woman carried herself like a noble who thought herself above all.
It was Xu Qian and her fiancé, Zhang Jin.
Though they weren't part of the competing noble houses, their fame—or rather infamy—preceded them. The latter had once stood on the grand stage of the Blue Wind Ranking Tournament, until Zhang Jin was humiliated and disqualified for cheating, using forbidden mind control techniques to steal victory. His opponent had collapsed without a chance to fight back.
They weren't here to compete tonight.
They were here to witness the humiliation of the Jin Family.
As they entered the grand hall and stood among the observing crowd, Zhang Jin leaned in close to Xu Qian, his voice dripping with mockery.
"Do you think the Jin Family will win again, Qian'er?" he asked with a smirk, his eyes settling on the distant figure of Jin Zhuo and his veiled entourage.
Xu Qian scoffed with disdain, folding her arms.
"Hmph. Of course not. Every year they come crawling in just to be crushed. This year will be no different. I've already placed all my bets on their failure."
Zhang Jin chuckled. "How generous of you. Still chasing that thrill?"
"I don't need a thrill," she sneered. "I just want to see them fall. Especially that so-called 'Mu Che'. If that bastard dares show his face tonight—"
She narrowed her eyes with growing venom.
"—I'll make sure he regrets ever being born. I'll destroy him myself. Right in front of everyone."
She turned away, completely unaware that the man she sought to humiliate was already on his way… watching and listening. Hidden beneath layers of careful planning, surrounded by women far beyond anything Xu Qian could imagine—and waiting for the perfect moment to turn the banquet upside down.
After some time, their carriages rolled to a smooth halt.
Before them stood the towering estate of the City Lord, a magnificent structure of prestige and political power, gleaming with golden trim and marbled pillars. The banquet hall at its heart pulsed with music and light, noble families already gathered inside like vultures circling their next meal.
The Jin Family delegation descended in order. Jin Zhuo and Jin Yuelian walked at the front, heads held high, no longer burdened by defeat. The masked Yun Che followed at Jin Zhuo's right side, arm linked with Mulan's. Her steps were silent, but her resolve was firm.
There's no need to reveal Mu Che is alive for now.
Trailing behind them, the rest of the women walked in elegant formation, their veils shimmering under the moonlight—mystery and grace personified. Snowy silks, formal kimonos, and martial robes danced like whispers in the evening breeze.
As they stepped through the gates, murmurs erupted among the gathered nobles. Disciples from the ten families cast glances, some confused, others scornful. Many chuckled under their breath.
"Oh? The Jin Family still dares to show their faces?"
"Bringing so many women with veils… what are they, a traveling theater troupe?"
"Heh. They're just here to lose again. Might as well hand over the debts now."
Their laughter was cruel, unfiltered. The humiliation of years past had carved the Jin Family's reputation into something pitiful. But tonight… something felt different. There was no slump in Jin Zhuo's shoulders. No trembling in his wife's steps. And Yun Che's calm gaze met every mockery with silent confidence.
"The count and countess of Jin Family have arrived.
The grand hall of the City Lord's estate glimmered under chandeliers shaped like falling stars. Banquet tables lined the edges, filled with wine, exotic fruit, and delicacies from across the region. At the center, a spacious arena—ostensibly for performances—awaited tonight's real entertainment: the humiliation of the Jin Family.
The other nine noble families lounged comfortably in their designated sections, basking in laughter and idle boasts. Their elders sipped wine while their young masters eyed the newly arrived Jin Family with thinly veiled disdain.
"Heh… they brought women in veils now?" scoffed a youth from the Luo Family, his tone full of scorn. "What's next? Dancers to distract us while they forfeit?"
"Maybe that's the plan," a young man from the Wu Family laughed. "Those veiled ones… exotic. But none of them even look like cultivators. I bet they brought servants to gamble in their place."
A third youth, from the Zhu Family, narrowed his eyes. "Wait….. these women… their aura's odd. Can't sense anything clearly."
"Don't be fooled," an older Zhu elder sneered. "That's a parlor trick. Concealing their power to look mysterious. It's all a bluff. The Jin Family is desperate—they'll cling to anything that shines."
"They might be beautiful underneath, I'll give them that," murmured a fourth man, licking his lips. "But they look like birds locked in a cage. If they lose tonight, I'll be sure to request one as payment for their debts."
A few laughed darkly at the crude suggestion, unaware of the quiet fury building behind a few of those veils.
"Bet one of the challenges is a duel. I hope I'm paired with the smaller one. She looks soft—I'll be gentle… maybe."
Behind the veils, onyx glinted—Retsu's. Someone dare to point at her little sister. If her Yuu-kun gave the order, she would already wipe this place out.
"Don't forget the tall one," someone else added, pointing at Retsu. "So cold and elegant. I'd love to melt that chill."
Nemu blinked once. Mio, beside her, simply smirked behind her fan. Both were restraining to let loose but Yun Che already clear with his order.
Their disrespect echoed through the hall like gnats buzzing around a sleeping dragon. They had no idea.
To them, the veiled women were nothing more than accessories, bait for ridicule, or worse… prizes to be claimed after the Jin Family inevitably lost.
Yun Che, standing calmly at the center of it all, poured himself a drink and glanced at the mocking young lords. His lips curled into the faintest smirk.
From the Zhang Family table, a tall young man laughed aloud, lifting his wine cup.
"Ah, look! The Jin Family has taken to hiring dancers now! What's next? Acrobats and clowns to entertain us while they lose again?"
The Fang Family's matriarch sneered, "How pitiful. Look at them parading these women around like peacocks. Can they even fight? Or are they hoping to seduce us into mercy?"
The Gu Family's eldest son grinned with a smug curl of his lip. "I'll take the one in red when they inevitably lose. Looks like she's got some spirit—maybe I'll train her personally."
From the Yang Family corner, a young lady whispered to her companion, "That one in blue—she's kind of creepy… What's with that dead stare? No way she's a cultivator."
Her brother smirked. "Doesn't matter. They'll all be crying before the second match."
The Ren Family's second son slapped his table, roaring in laughter. "This is better than last year! At least they tried to fight then. This year they bring their wives and mistresses to be the sacrifices instead!"
The Hou Family's elder shook his head in disdain, speaking to his younger disciples. "Take this as a lesson: when your house falls, your dignity goes with it. The Jin Family has become nothing more than a collection of clowns."
From the Nie Family, a youth leaned forward, eyeing Little Fairy's graceful movements. "That one... she walks like she's floating. I'd like to see her on her knees. Easy prey, all of them."
The Song Family's second daughter scoffed, "Maybe they hope to distract us with beauty. That doesn't work when you have no power to back it up."
And from the Gao Family, the patriarch merely chuckled, his deep voice like thunder. "Let them sit. Let them drink. The debt they'll owe us by the end of tonight will triple what they brought. They've come here to lose. Again."
As the Jin Family took their seats at the table farthest from the main dais—traditionally reserved for the weakest house—all eyes followed them, mocking smiles curling on noble lips.
The veiled women said nothing. They walked with elegance, calm, and deadly grace.
And no one noticed the way Yun Che's eyes scanned each table behind his mask… memorizing every mocking face.
"Is this normal in the banquet?" Yun Che asked calmly, his eyes still watching the sneering nobles as they settled into their seats.
Mulan didn't need to look—she knew what he meant. "Yes," she said, her voice steady but cold. "Every year, it's like this. Every time we come here, they mock us. Laugh at us. Use the games to crush whatever dignity we have left."
Jin Yuelian sighed, holding tightly onto Cang Yue's hand, as if needing to ground herself. "It started small. Just minor provocations… but after Mu Che passed, they all pounced on us like vultures. Now, it's tradition."
Jin Zhuo gave a solemn nod, his eyes full of restrained fury. "They see us as weak prey. We're the tenth house. The runt of the noble families. They all want to be the one to push us out completely."
Cang Yue narrowed her eyes, glancing around at the arrogant faces around them. "How have you endured this for so long?"
"Because we had no choice," Jin Zhuo said. "But tonight… we do."
Yun Che smiled faintly. Not one of amusement—but of promise.
Yun Che silently thanked the heavens that no one here recognized him beneath the mask. Its enchantment functioned just like the veiled hats worn by the women—obscuring his features entirely. To the crowd, he was just another unknown face in elegant robes.
"These people aren't even above the Sky Profound Realm," Kon muttered from within Yun Che's robes. "And yet they strut around like they're rulers. Jerks."
Yun Che tilted his head slightly toward Jin Zhuo. "You mentioned earlier that the Zhu Family is the most powerful in this province. Why is that?"
Jin Zhuo sighed heavily. "Their strength comes from their backing. The Zhu Family married into the Cang Outer Family… and more crucially, the Wu Clan. That alliance gave them political power—and terrifying strength."
"The head of their family is Zhu Tian," Jin Zhuo continued. "Once a mid-tier Sky Profound cultivator, but after the Zhu Family marrying into the Wu Clan, his cultivation skyrocketed—from Third Level Sky Profound to Fourth Level Emperor Profound Realm. Now, he rules this province like a warlord."
Yun Che's brows twitched. "Mulan mentioned the Zhu Family had access to Peak Emperor Profound Realm experts."
"They do," Jin Zhuo replied, voice low. "But those monsters aren't native to this province. They're Wu Clan elites, using our islands as a foothold. Zhu Tian may rule the land, but it's their power behind his throne."
"And Mulan?" Yun Che asked, referring to Mulan.
"She's a Third Level Emperor Profound, unlike me and my wife," Jin Zhuo said with a proud but grim smile. "But against Zhu Tian? She's no match… not yet."
Yun Che glanced at the nobles still mocking them from afar, then back at Jin Zhuo.
"Even so," he said calmly, "having three Emperor Profounds under one family in the Blue Wind Empire… is already more than impressive.
"All because of you, remember?" Jin Zhuo's eyes settled meaningfully on Yun Che.
"Me?" Yun Che blinked, puzzled—until it clicked.
Mu Che. The name that used to act as the main support of the Jin Family.
"Oh… right," he muttered. "I forgot."
Jin Zhuo gave a small, understanding sigh. "You might've lost the memories, but your actions left a legacy. You weren't a cultivator—but you forged elixirs. Powerful ones. Because of them, my wife and I both ascended to the First Level of the Emperor Profound Realm. That surge in power made us Prime Count and Countess of Xuanwu City for nearly five years."
Yun Che glanced toward Mulan, who stood poised nearby.
"How did she reach Third Level?"
"She was given a potent version of your elixir," Jin Zhuo said. "Even more refined. It pushed her two entire levels upward."
"Elixirs, huh…" Yun Che murmured, fingers subconsciously brushing his chin as his mind turned.
He never realized it before… but Mu Che—his former self—wasn't just a cultivator or warrior. He was a genius alchemist. One capable of crafting elixirs powerful enough to elevate mortals to the Emperor Profound Realm. This kind of talent would shock the Blue Wind Empire. He was surprised why his name didn't echo in the inner lands.
But then… the thought struck him like a thunderclap.
Why did Mu Che really disappear?
What if his death—or disappearance—wasn't an accident claimed by the Wu Clan? What if the Wu Clan discovered the existence of the elixir, and orchestrated his downfall to steal the formula for themselves?
His gaze darkened beneath the mask.
That would explain why the Wu Clan's elders reached the Peak of Emperor Profound Realm… and no higher.
The original elixir must have had a limit. A brilliant, yet incomplete formula—perhaps intentionally designed that way. It could elevate a cultivator to the peak… but it hit a wall. That's why the elders he encountered all stopped just short of breaking through into the Tyrant Profound Realm.
So the Wu Clan's so-called power… is borrowed. Artificial.
And if they truly had the formula, they must be desperately trying to complete it. That meant somewhere in their territory—maybe even in those occupied islands—they were experimenting, refining, perhaps even sacrificing lives in the pursuit of a breakthrough.
Yun Che clenched his fists behind his back.
He would keep this knowledge to himself—for now. Too much was at stake. He needed proof, more clues.
"But it didn't last," Jin Zhuo said, his voice darkening. "The Wu Clan began aiding the Cang Outer Family and, by extension, the Zhu Family. With their backing, the Zhu rose higher than us. They surpassed Mulan in power, politically and militarily."
Yun Che's brows furrowed. "And the rest of the noble families?"
"They bent the knee to Zhu Tian," Jin Zhuo spat. "Once the Zhu family stood on top, the other nine families fell in line. They started picking fights with us—insulting us, goading us, baiting us into debts. And with the Zhu Family's protection, they knew we couldn't fight back."
He looked toward the banquet hall, where nobles lounged like jackals.
"In other words," he said bitterly, "if we even touched one of them… the general would wipe us out."
"No wonder these fools act so arrogant," Yun Che muttered. "They're parasites… drunk on someone else's power."
His gaze narrowed behind the mask, voice laced with cold resolve.
"But that power… won't protect them forever."
=========================
After the grand hall settled, the air still buzzed with uneasy curiosity and veiled hostility. All nine noble families had arrived and taken their seats around the jade-carved banquet floor, each positioned according to rank and prestige. Golden lanterns hung overhead, casting a soft glow over the polished marble floor.
Then, a man in an embroidered indigo robe stood up slowly. His posture oozed confidence, and the symbol of the Zhang Family, the second-ranking house in the province, gleamed proudly on his chest.
"Since all families have gathered," he said with a false smile, "why don't we begin the banquet?"
He let his eyes drift toward the Jin Family table with deliberate ease, his tone dipped in mockery.
"I'm sure the Jin Family is... thrilled to participate again this year."
Muffled chuckles broke out from several tables.
Jin Zhuo didn't rise. He remained seated, his hands calmly placed on the table, his face unreadable. His wife's expression was composed, though a quiet fire smoldered in her eyes. The veiled women behind them remained still as stone, their presence unnerving the more perceptive cultivators.
One of the lesser family heads leaned over with a sneer. "I was beginning to think the Jin Family wouldn't bother showing up after last year's embarrassment."
Another joined in. "Bringing veiled women this time? Did they finally run out of real disciples?"
"Or are they just hoping to sell their daughters off to buy favors?" one laughed crudely, earning grins from several others.
"Be careful," whispered a more observant elder, his eyes fixed on the veiled group. "That one on the right… her presence feels off."
But the majority continued their mockery, no one expected the Jin Family to put up any real resistance.
Jin Zhuo said nothing. He glanced once at Yun Che, who sat calmly beside Mulan, his arms crossed, eyes half-lidded—utterly unfazed.
The patriarch of the Zhang Family raised his goblet. "To another year of peace, prosperity… and fair competition."
He paused, then added with a smirk:
"Let's hope no one embarrasses themselves too early this time."
The hall erupted with polite laughter.
But the quiet calm from the Jin Family table—the defiant silence—made it clear:
This year would be very different.
As the banquet eased into its formal rhythm, the head of the Zhang Family raised his goblet once again, this time with a gleam in his eyes.
"Well then," he declared, voice ringing across the hall, "before the games begin, it's time we place the stakes. The wager stands: lose, and you pay—simple as always."
A moment later, the patriarchs of the noble families began to rise, one after another, issuing their challenges. As expected, each one was directed squarely at the Jin Family.
Jin Zhuo's face paled. His fists clenched under the table. It was just like last year—a rigged spectacle masked as tradition.
That was when Yun Che suddenly stood up, his chair scraping back with a bold screech. The hall quieted, more from confusion than respect.
He clapped his hands once.
"Well!" he exclaimed, voice clear and sharp. "Looks like we're getting a private showing tonight—The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Audacity of These Bitches."
Dead silence.
Dozens of nobles stared at him as if he had grown three heads.
A few jaws slackened.
"W-What?" someone muttered.
Yun Che raised an eyebrow. "Tell me—why does the Jin Family always get picked on? I mean, statistically speaking, one of you should have challenged someone else. But no. It's always the same, over and over."
He turned his gaze across the banquet hall, sweeping it slowly with deliberate challenge.
"Are the rest of you just that scared of fighting each other?"
One of the family heads sneered. "The rules say we can challenge anyone. We simply chose them. If you don't like it, don't participate."
"Ah, I see. So it's legal, just not honorable." Yun Che tapped his chin mockingly. "A flock of nobles acting like crows. Or vultures, really. Pecking at the same bones because you think no one's watching."
A deep voice barked from another table, "You're just an outsider who doesn't understand how this world works!"
Yun Che's smile vanished.
"No, I understand all too well. I understand bullies. I understand cowards who only act brave when they're in a pack."
He stepped forward, his tone hardening like steel.
"Which is why—we'll be the ones issuing the challenge this year. One by one, to each of you."
A beat of stunned silence.
Then the hall exploded into laughter.
"You?!"
"You dare challenge the noble families?"
"Boy, you must be drunk—or stupid!"
Yun Che didn't flinch. He simply crossed his arms and tilted his head with a smirk.
As the nobles roared with laughter, mocking Yun Che's boldness, a sudden change in the atmosphere made the hall shiver.
A deadly cold intent swept through the air.
From behind their veils, Retsu, Mio, Little Fairy, and Qingyue stood motionless, but the energy radiating from them was like a blizzard smothering a volcano. Their killing intent was barely restrained—but sharp enough to make even Emperor-level cultivators subconsciously flinch.
If not for Yun Che's calming presence, the hall would've already become a frozen tomb drenched in blood.
As for Chu Yueli, she felt her newly awakened heart stir. The way Yun Che stood unshaken before the arrogant nobles… it was maddeningly compelling.
Just like Mihawk back in Gao Ling City.
Then Jin Zhuo stood, a new fire in his eyes. He turned toward the mocking crowd.
"Very well!" he declared. "The Jin Family accepts your challenges!"
Gasps rippled through the noble ranks.
"Hear that?" the Zhang Patriarch called out gleefully. "Place your bets, gentlemen! This will be one hell of a slaughter!"
Yun Che raised a hand casually. "Whoa, whoa… placing bets already? You nobles really don't waste time."
"Why? Afraid you'll lose, boy?"
Yun Che chuckled. "Not afraid. I just don't trust people who fly around in gilded robes but act like market swindlers."
A few nobles bristled. One of them barked, "Our word is our bond!"
Yun Che tilted his head. "Is it, though? Because 'word' is just air. And air doesn't pay debts." He leaned forward slightly. "I want it written, signed, and sealed. That way, when you lose, we can take it to your ancestors' graves and let them see just how far their bloodline has fallen."
"You dare accuse us of being liars?!" another roared.
"You're nobles," Yun Che said with a smirk, "but you behave like vultures circling a wounded beast. So yes—I dare."
"You insolent…"
But none of them could finish their retorts. The killing intent behind the veils had risen again—stronger, colder, and now razor-sharp.
It was clear now: Yun Che wasn't alone.
And for the first time that night, the nobles felt it—the faintest shiver of doubt.
Yun Che stood tall as his voice rang clearly through the mocking laughter.
"I took the liberty of preparing a written agreement." He motioned to a hall attendant, who began distributing scrolls across the tables. Each one bore the Jin Family's official seal—signed personally by Jin Zhuo.
"It's simple," Yun Che continued. "We'll participate in your games. If we lose, the bet will be added to our debt." He paused with a sly smile. "But if we win… you'll clear the debt. Entirely."
The nobles began to murmur.
"However—" Yun Che raised a finger, silencing the room. "You forced these challenges onto the Jin Family, knowing they couldn't win. So let's make this interesting…"
He took a step forward, locking eyes with each family head.
"The debt will be doubled. Win, and you'll have twice your reward. Lose…" he grinned, "and not only will your debt to us be twice what we owed, but you will pay it in full and our debts with you, cleared."
The hall exploded in shock.
"Outrageous!"
"He's insane!"
"The Jin Family just signed their death!"
Jin Zhuo's hand twitched—he nearly stood up to object. But then he saw Yun Che's calm eyes. That quiet confidence. And he sat back down.
He trusts him. Even now.
But the nobles?
They started to grin.
"Double the reward?" one sneered. "Very generous of you."
"The Jin Family must be desperate to agree to that."
"Fine. Let's see just how deep your grave goes."
One by one, the family heads stood and began filling in exaggerated debts into the agreement scrolls. Lies cloaked in smug entitlement. Numbers far higher than truth, because they believed—no, they were certain—that the Jin Family could not win.
Yun Che waited.
Then came the final clause from the nobles.
"Very well," the Zhang Patriarch spoke. "We will add our own condition. Every single game must be participated. If you withdraw from even one—you forfeit the entire wager."
"That includes you?" Yun Che shot.
For some reason, the Zhang Patriarch doubted it for a moment. "That includes us."
The other heads nodded with predatory smiles unaware that those words will be regretted.
Yun Che didn't flinch.
"Deal." His voice was calm. Unshaken.
A storm of whispers rippled across the room. Disciples and elders alike scoffed.
"He's a fool…"
"The Jin Family just doomed themselves."
"They couldn't win even once in the last two years. Now they want to win every game?"
Even the attendants cast sympathetic glances at the Jin Family.
But amidst all the mockery and arrogance, Yun Che simply smiled—like a man who already saw the ending.
And it would be glorious.