Chapter 2 The Tournament Where Ten Thousand Young Masters Became My Stepping Stones
Celestial Dawn City, Grand Celestial Arena.
One hundred thousand cultivators packed the floating coliseum. The air crackled with spiritual pressure, killing intent, and the desperate thirst of ten thousand men who all believed they were the main character today.
Above the arena, nine dragon carved thrones hovered in the sky.
On the highest throne sat the Empress.
Xiao Mei.
Snow white imperial robes clung to curves that could make a monk slap his own master. Her long silver hair danced without wind, and the Ice Phoenix bloodline behind her spread wings made of pure frost, freezing the clouds themselves. Her face was cold enough to give a Nascent Soul frostbite just by looking at her, but every man below was still drooling like dogs in heat.
She had not spoken a word since arriving. She did not need to. Her presence alone screamed touch me and die.
Until now.
Because right now, at the registration gate of the preliminary round, a black robed youth who looked like he belonged in a brothel instead of a battlefield just wrote three words on the jade slip:
Name: Lin Feng
Cultivation: Qi Condensation Stage 1
Goal: Take back my wife
The entire arena's sound array broadcasted it live.
One hundred thousand people froze.
Then exploded.
"Qi Condensation trash dares to write that?!"
"Kill him! Rip his mouth off!"
"Does he not know the Empress's husband has been dead for a hundred years? How dare he insult the dead!"
Up on her throne, Xiao Mei's ice blue eyes narrowed to slits. A single tear which immediately freeze slid down her cheek and shattered mid air.
That handwriting…
That lazy stroke on the character Feng…
Only one person in the entire universe wrote his name like that.
Her dao heart, which had not moved in ninety years, cracked like thin ice.
Below, Lin Feng yawned, stretched, and walked into the arena as if he was strolling through his backyard.
The preliminary round was simple ten thousand participants, free for all battle royale. Last one hundred standing would go to the main tournament.
The gong sounded.
Ten thousand geniuses, saint sons, and young masters all charged at the single Qi Condensation ant in the center.
Lin Feng scratched his ear.
"DING! [Mass Face Slapping Event detected!]
Reward: For every young master you make cough blood ×3, receive one random dual cultivation technique fragment!"
Lin Feng grinned so wide his fangs showed.
"my christmas gift came early."
The first wave arrived.
A golden core pretty boy with a folding fan sneered, "Kneel and call me daddy, tras—"
Lin Feng flicked his finger.
Crack!
The pretty boy's kneecaps exploded backwards. He flew five hundred meters and embedded into the arena wall like a painting.
Second wave: fifty sword cultivators, sword intent tearing the sky.
Lin Feng sighed.
"Too slow."
He took one step.
BOOM!
The entire arena floor sank three meters. Fifty sword lights shattered mid air. Fifty young masters vomited blood simultaneously, their swords crying like abandoned wives.
Third wave: three saint sons at half step Nascent Soul, burning their life essence for forbidden techniques.
Lin Feng finally moved both hands.
He clapped once.
Clap.
The three forbidden techniques reversed, slamming back into their owners. Three heaven grade artifacts exploded. Three saint sons turned into meat paste on the spot.
The whole arena went dead silent.
Ten thousand people. Three seconds. All coughing blood on the ground, groaning, or already unconscious.
Only one person still stood in the center, black robes untouched by even a speck of dust.
Lin Feng looked up at the empress's throne and waved like a husband who came home late from work.
"Hi, honey. Missed me?"
Xiao Mei stood up so fast her throne turned to ice powder.
Her voice, amplified by the sound array, trembled for the first time in a hundred years.
"…Lin… Feng?"
The entire continent heard it.
Every old monster hiding in seclusion spat blood.
Every sect master dropped their teacup.
Every hidden ancestor watching through crystal balls screamed one word:
"FUCK!"
Because the man every history book recorded as died a hundred years ago in the Blood Shadow massacre was currently smiling and walking toward the empress's throne like he owned the planet.
Lin Feng leaped.
One leap, straight from the arena floor to the floating throne box, crossing ten thousand meters like it was nothing.
He landed softly in front of Xiao Mei.
Close enough to smell the faint frost rose scent she still used.
Close enough to see the tears frozen on her lashes.
Close enough to reach out and wipe one away with his thumb.
"Hey, wife," he said softly, voice low and lazy, "you got taller. And colder. Did you wait for me long and did you miss me?"
Xiao Mei's lips parted. No sound came out.
Her Ice Phoenix bloodline screamed behind her, wings spreading wide enough to cover the sky.
Then she did something that made every man in the continent want to die.
She dropped her sword.
Dropped to her knees.
And buried her face in his chest.
The Ice Empress who had not shed a tear in ninety years started crying like a little girl who finally found her way home.
Lin Feng wrapped his arms around her, smirking at the one hundred thousand half dead young masters below.
"See that, boys? This is what we call a married woman. All your fiancée stealing dreams? Canceled."
Then he looked down at the sobbing empress in his arms and lowered his voice to a whisper only she could hear
"Also… tonight you're explaining why you held a husband-selection tournament without asking me first. With your body. Thoroughly. I've been celibate for a hundred years, baby. Hope you're ready."
Xiao Mei's ears turned redder than tribulation lightning.
The system in Lin Feng's head dinged happily.
"DING! [First Wife Reclaimed!]
Reward: Extreme Yin Ice Phoenix Dual Cultivation Art (Emperor Grade) ×1
Bonus: Empress's favorability reached 1000/100 (Willing to die for host, willing to kill for host, willing to f*ck host on the throne in front of the entire continent)]
Lin Feng laughed out loud, picked Xiao Mei up bridal style (ignoring her weak struggles and the way her legs automatically wrapped around his waist), and turned to the stunned elders on the floating thrones.
"Tournament's over. My wife and I are going home to… catch up. Anyone has a problem, step forward."
Not a single person moved.
Even the heavens were silent.
Lin Feng nodded, satisfied.
"Good. See you all in nine months when the first prince is born."
Then he vanished with the empress in his arms, leaving behind one hundred thousand crippled young masters and one arena that would forever be known as
"The Place Where Ten Thousand Protagonists Became Background Characters in One Afternoon."