Before the elder even announced Jia Wei Xin's name…
A few paces away, Liu Mo Fei heard something he hadn't expected — her laughter.
Soft. Brief. Unmistakable. It floated above the murmurs of the crowd like a wind chime catching sunlight.
His head turned sharply.
And beside her—
Polished uniform. Clean posture. Eyes that said I'm harmless while quietly screaming I know exactly what I'm doing. A perfect bow that made Liu Mo Fei want to slap the back of his head.
Chang Dian.
His brow twitched.
Nothing looked wrong. No touching. No lines crossed. But Jia Wei Xin's face—
She looked… happy. Relieved. Smiling like someone had just whispered something only meant for her.
Liu Mo Fei's eyes narrowed.
He had heard nothing. Felt nothing. And that was the problem.
No whisper. No spiritual ripple. Just silence.
Which meant—
A sound-shielding technique. A private channel. Hidden from everyone… except her.
His grip on his sword hilt tightened a fraction.
Bold. Shameless.
You dare whisper to my disciple with cloaked words? In front of me?
And Jia Wei Xin—she wasn't helping.
That look on her face: so soft and bright.
Liu Mo Fei's jaw flexed.
She only looks at me like that when I bribe her with grilled skewers after training.
Something about the boy grated. The fake-innocent eyes. The immaculate robes. The way he stood — like a wolf pretending to be a lamb.
Chang Dian... Why does that name feel like I've swallowed a fly?
Mental note: Watch him. Closely.
------
After a few names were called, the elder's voice shifted — deeper, clearer, marked with gravity:
"Next, Jia Wei Xin — disciple of Liu Mo Fei."
A hush swept through the crowd. Heads turned. Whispers surged like wind through leaves.
"We recently resolved several serious issues — poisoned food, broken and insufficient weapon supplies, and other logistical problems. Jia Wei Xin was the one who provided the insights that allowed us to solve all of them… within three days."
Gasps rose. Then applause. Even a few cheers.
"She has both beauty and brains — such a rare gem!" one young male disciple sighed.
A chorus of dreamy agreement followed.
Jia Wei Xin blinked, a little stunned.
---
The elder allowed the moment to settle before continuing, voice steady:
"And in addition to her contributions… she has also advanced to the Intermediate Stage — just two days ago."
The applause faded into silence.
Intermediate?
Respectable. Decent. But… worthy of standing on this stage?
Now came the whispers from the other side — sharper, bitter.
"What beauty and brains? She's just Intermediate."
"There are over 500 disciples at that level."
"She's only up there because she's the Sect Head's private disciple."
The elder raised a single hand. Instantly, the noise died.
"What has not yet been stated… is this—"
He paused.
The silence thickened.
"Jia Wei Xin advanced from the Beginner Stage… to the Intermediate Stage… in five days."
Dead silence.
And then — chaos.
Disciples reeled. Elders exchanged stunned glances. Even Mei Lan — ever-calm, ever-poised — blinked.
Five days?!
Impossible. No pill, no relic, not even bathing in divine beast marrow could do that. The most gifted cultivators they knew — the so-called prodigies — still needed a year, at best.
Unless…
Unless she was beyond even them.
One in a million.
A genius that made other geniuses look ordinary.
---
While Jia Wei Xin was still trying to process what had just been announced, she became acutely aware of something else: six thousand pairs of eyes. All staring. All wide. All mouths open like synchronized fish mid-gasp.
It was supposed to be an awe-inspiring moment.
But to Jia Wei Xin… it just looked funny.
Very funny.
Her overwhelmed brain took one look at the pressure and promptly snapped into nonsense-mode: the crowd transformed into a sea of wide-eyed cats, all meowing in shock and admiration.
"Meow."
"Purr?"
"Meow meow!!"
Why are they all cats? she thought blankly. Why are they talking? Why can't I understand a single meow?!
---
Meanwhile, on the higher platform…
Liu Mo Fei stood with his arms crossed, looking as pleased as a peacock who'd just won a beauty pageant.
Zhang Tian, still in his "Chang Dian" disguise, had one arm casually draped over the balcony railing, smirking like he personally wrote the script for this entire show.
"That's my girl," they both thought — almost in sync.
Suddenly, both men appeared to suffer from selective amnesia.
Gone were the memories of how Jia Wei Xin had nearly exploded from absorbing two different spiritual energies at once. Gone was the panic, the blood, the "I swear if she dies, I'll kill you first" argument in the Sacred Pool.
Now, all that remained was smugness.
They were both, somehow, patting themselves on the back — as if they had nobly foreseen this moment all along. As if they, the wise and visionary mentors (and/or totally uninvited energy donors), had known from the start that Jia Wei Xin was a once-in-a-generation genius.
Author's note: Maybe all truly successful people need this level of shamelessness to survive.
Because really — Liu Mo Fei and Zhang Tian? They weren't following any conventional path to success. These were men who defied logic, rewrote the rulebook, and then forgot where they put it.
They did the impossible not because they trained harder or planned smarter.
But because the laws of reality took one look at them, sighed deeply, and walked away.
---
And yet, even through the noise — through the meows, the gasps, and the ego-glow of her two chaotic mentors — Jia Wei Xin felt it.
Two pairs of eyes.
Focused on her.
Warm. Unwavering. Steady as a sunrise.
Not just approval — but belief.
The kind that didn't demand proof or performance. The kind that didn't vanish the moment she stopped being useful.
Her heart gave a quiet, steady thump.
She had never felt this before.
Not in her past life, where recognition always had a price. Where praise came with conditions. Where slipping even once meant being told she had failed — by her partner, her colleagues, her bosses.
But here, now, under the weight of six thousand stares, she felt something quietly overwhelming:
She was loved.
She was cherished.
By two of the most ridiculous, overconfident, and absolutely shameless men she had ever met.
And somehow… that made it real.
She almost laughed — but instead, she stood a little taller.
Because this time, she wasn't going to run from it.
This time, she would rise.
---
And then… the real storm began.
A figure stepped forward from the line of elders.
Flowing silk sleeves. Lips painted the precise shade of deadly camellia. A smile so sweet it could rot teeth.
Elder Hua Lian.
She bowed — slow and graceful — to the council above, then turned ever so slightly to face the crowd. Her gaze swept across the gathering like a perfumed breeze… before landing squarely on Jia Wei Xin with a glint in her eyes that sparkled like poison in a teacup.
"What a remarkable story," she said, her voice like silk soaked in honey and sharpened with tiny hidden needles. "To advance so quickly. To resolve so many issues. Truly… our sect is fortunate."
Several disciples nodded cautiously, unsure if they were hearing praise or about to be hexed.
"And yet," Hua Lian continued, taking one perfectly-measured step forward, "with such extraordinary advancement — Beginner to Intermediate in just five days — I do find myself wondering…"
She tilted her head slightly, that elegant rose-petal smile still blooming.
"Whether she might be willing to demonstrate this rare and dazzling talent in a… friendly match."
The words hit the crowd like a firecracker in a meditation hall.
Jia Wei Xin stood frozen as Elder Hua Lian's challenge echoed through the terraces.
The cats vanished from her mind. The cheers faded. Even the absurd image of her two chaotic mentors basking in borrowed glory disappeared for a moment.
Because now… the real jealous-girl drama was beginning.
She exhaled slowly.
So this is how it's going to be?
Alright then.
Let the show begin.
Let's see who should be afraid of who.