"I offer you the Viper’s Breath! A true warrior drains the flagon without spilling a drop!"
He held the massive iron flagon out, the green fumes rising from the lip.
It was a blatant trap.
If Ji’an refused, she lost face and proved she was weak. If she drank it, the intense venom would theoretically incapacitate her frail, pampered body, humiliating her in front of her "bodyguards."
The Azure Dragon disciples smirked, waiting for the pretty boy to panic.
But the panic didn’t come from Ji’an.
The panic came from the thirteen terrifying, blood-soaked demigods sitting behind her.
Gu Zhiwei, Lu Jianheng, and Hu Yanlie simultaneously gasped, their faces draining of all color. They didn’t look at Kui with anger; rather, they looked at him with horror.
"Oh Heavens," Wen Shiru whispered, adjusting his glasses with his fingers, practically shrinking behind his table. "The fool has just insulted the Chef’s palate."
"He interrupted our dinner," Hu Yanlie whimpered, the feral Beast Lord attempting to make himself look smaller. "He brought bad wine to the table. We are all going to die."
The local disciples frowned, confused.
Why were the bodyguards terrified?
They should be angry that their leader was being challenged. Instead, they looked like they were bracing for an artillery strike.
Ji’an slowly sat up from her velvet cushion.
She didn’t look at the flagon.
She looked at Senior Brother Kui.
A slow, dark, incredibly terrifying and unhinged smile spread across her flawless, handsome face. The silver flecks in her eyes ignited with the blinding, tyrannical light of an Apex Anomaly whose dining experience had just been rudely interrupted.
"A toast?" Ji’an whispered.
Her voice wasn’t loud. But the mass of her Harmonious Five-Grain Qi instantly flooded the room.
The air pressure in the grand hall didn’t drop. It spiked and became so heavy that the green stalactites on the ceiling groaned under the weight.
Senior Brother Kui’s arrogant smirk instantly vanished.
His peak-stage Golden Core aura didn’t just flicker; it was comepletely smothered, crushed back into his body by a pressure so immense it felt like a mountain had just been dropped directly onto his shoulders.
His knees buckled. His arms trembled violently under the weight.
Ji’an stood up.
She walked around the table. She didn’t draw a weapon or unleash a spell.
She simply walked up to the sweating, trembling, wide-eyed elite.
Ji’an reached out and casually plucked the massive iron flagon from his shaking hands.
"You call this a test of fortitude?" Ji’an sneered softly, looking down her nose at the buckling disciple. She brought the flagon to her nose, took a deep sniff, and scoffed. "It’s over-fermented. The acidity is completely unbalanced, the venom-to-alcohol ratio is sloppy, and it smells like a wet boot."
She didn’t drink it.
With a casual flick of her wrist, Ji’an tossed the heavy iron flagon high into the air above the center of the hall.
And then, she moved.
It was the same blinding, explosive speed she had used in the colosseum. She didn’t draw her spatula, but simply pivoted, utilizing a roundhouse kick.
Her red leather boot connected squarely with the falling iron flagon in mid-air.
KRA-BOOM!
The iron flagon didn’t just fly across the room. It detonated from the kinetic impact.
A shockwave of golden-red energy exploded outward, tearing through the center of the grand hall. The shockwave instantly vaporized the venom-wine, completely shattered the long obsidian tables of the disciples, and sent the entire front row of the elite disciples flying backward, crashing into the stone walls like discarded ragdolls.
The entire Azure Dragon assembly sat in a ringing silence.
The tables were gone. The elites were groaning on the floor.
Ji’an landed lightly on her feet, adjusting the cuffs of her Szechuan Red robes, completely unbothered.
She looked down at Senior Brother Kui, who was currently on his hands and knees, staring at the cratered floor where his flagon used to be, his mind broken by the realization that the "pretty boy" was actually a walking weapon of mass destruction.
"If you ever," Ji’an whispered, her voice echoing in the dead-silent, shattered hall, "interrupt my dinner with subpar, unbalanced garbage again... I will not kick the cup. I will kick you. Into the sun."
She turned around, flashing a brilliant, charming, devastatingly handsome smile toward the terrified, swooning Azure Crane maidens who were watching the display with absolute awe.
"Now, then" Ji’an announced, clapping her hands together, looking toward the horrified Azure Dragon Sect Leader. "The appetizers were terrible, and you owe me a new table. Show me to your spice gardens. I’m taking over the kitchen."
As Ji’an strutted out of the grand hall, followed closely by a deeply smug Ice Demon, a snacking abyssal airhead, and thirteen relieved demigods, Elder Viper simply took a slow sip of his tea.
The second-hand embarrassment was palpable.
The try-hards had fucked around enough.
.
.
.
The immediate aftermath of Lin Ji’an executing a roundhouse kick on a solid iron flagon of toxic wine was a masterclass in psychological subjugation.
As Ji’an strode out of the shattered Grand Hall, the night air of the Azure Dragon Sect hit her face. It was damp, heavy, and smelled distinctly of sulfur and bruised egos.
Behind her, trailing like a line of ducklings, were the sixteen elite disciples of the Vanguard Retinue.
They did not speak or whisper, just walked with the stiff, rigid posture of soldiers traversing a minefield.
Ji’an stopped in the center of the moonlit obsidian courtyard that connected the guest pavilions. She didn’t turn around immediately.
She simply stood there, her hands resting on her hips, her Szechuan Red combat silk fluttering in the breeze.
The sixteen disciples behind her instantly halted, practically freezing in place. Gu Zhiwei held his breath.
Lu Jianheng tightened his grip on his scabbard, while Wen Shiru frantically adjusted his cracked glasses.
Ji’an was in a terrible mood.
It wasn’t just the blatant disrespect of the try-hards, but the principle of the matter.