Journey to the End of the Night Chapter 1564 - 963: The Grudge of the Grapes
Previously on Journey to the End of the Night...
The banquet hall fell into a hushed silence for a brief instant, which was then shattered by waves of unrestrained, low laughter.
The person cackling the most boisterously was none other than Huo Yan, the son of the Daoist Immortal.
His gaze was laced with mocking disdain, utterly unhidden.
"I say, Young Master Ji, isn't this a bit… much? We are all gathered here with genuine intentions of seeking marriage.
To arrive empty-handed and then expect to feast on Shifang City's delicacies is rather excessive, wouldn't you agree?"
Seated beside him, Yi Zhongxian, a Daoist Immortal from Jingtian Academy in the Upper Pure Realm, dislodged the Immortal Jade Flute from his waist. He chuckled with a show of sympathy and pity, stating,
"If Young Master Ji truly finds himself at the end of his means, without a single possession to his name, I happen to have an Immortal Flute called 'Dust Remover' here.
It could perhaps be lent to you for your use. After all, Miss Fang San is never short of rare treasures. How about you perform a piece to publicly declare your intentions?"
Yi Zhongxian idly twirled the Immortal Flute between his fingers.
Just then, a single drop of wine, transformed into a sharp projectile, shot forth like an arrow, bisecting the Immortal Flute clean in two.
Yi Zhongxian's expression turned rigid, and he shot a displeased look towards Rong Lijun.
All he observed was the poised and charismatic Immortal Lord, Rong Lijun, whose refined demeanor was unmistakable. Unbeknownst to him, Rong Lijun had set down his wine goblet, his long fingers gently curling.
Crystal-clear droplets of wine levitated from his cup, swirling around his fingertips like precious gemstones.
"Rong Lijun, what is the meaning of this?!"
Rong Lijun let out a laugh. "Declaring intentions, indeed, that is precisely correct. However, Yi, your flute appears somewhat… fragile.
I merely gave it a small test, and it shattered into two pieces. Not quite suitable for a public display, wouldn't you agree?"
This Immortal Flute, the 'Dust Remover,' was a significant immortal artifact bestowed by the dean of Jingtian Academy in the Upper Pure Realm, a symbol of one's Daoist standing.
He had possessed it for a century, diligently nurturing its spirituality. In just a few more years, he intended to capture a Great Demon to refine its spirit and then elevate it to the ranks of Immortal Artifacts.
To have it destroyed so carelessly, broken in two before everyone, was a profound public humiliation.
Yi Zhongxian's face darkened, anger flashing in his eyes. He spoke with a tone tinged with bitterness and severity.
"Rong Lijun, do not presume that my Jingtian Academy fears your Asheng Sect!"
Situ Ye, who had long harbored a dislike for Rong Li, observed him acting so carelessly.
For the sake of a mere mortal, he repeatedly provoked the sons of various Daoist Immortals, thus creating enemies for himself. Situ Ye sneered inwardly.
He then added, his voice laced with accusation, "Rong Lijun certainly acts as if no one matters in his eyes, making enemies wherever he goes.
Is he truly planning to leave himself no path forward in the future Immortal World?"
"If you insist that this lord is deliberately provoking…"
Rong Lijun offered a slight smile, nudging the wine cup before him.
With a display of unrestrained grace and reckless abandon, he let wine spill across the table.
"Then this lord *is* provoking you, you fool. And so what?"
"This is utterly excessive! Do you truly believe I am afraid of you?!"
Yi Zhongxian immediately discarded the broken pieces of his flute and slammed his hand on the table in a fit of rage, overturning the spread of fruits and delicacies.
With a forceful stomp of his foot, he shattered the wide blackwood banquet table.
Yi Zhongxian rose with the ferocity of a soaring dragon, drawing a sword, as palpable Sword Intent radiated from his very being.
His green and white robes shimmered under the ethereal glow of the Luminous Pearl, his figure ascending like a dragon. Sword light and afterimages blurred as he slashed downwards!
Rong Lijun, also being the son of a Daoist Immortal, possessed comparable strength and cultivation.
As Yi Zhongxian drew his blade, three thousand fallen leaves swirled around him, enveloping his body in a brilliant emerald light before scattering with the wind.
In the very next moment, he was already outside the confines of the table. Unlike Yi Zhongxian's fueled rage,
Rong Lijun remained composed and collected, his Spiritual Power flashing. Beneath the lingering sword light, his aura and movement techniques became incredibly elusive.
Rong Lijun's movements were as light as leaves drifting on the breeze, unaffected by Yi Zhongxian's surging anger.
His swordsplay repeatedly missed its mark, unable to even graze the edge of Rong Lijun's robes.
Yi Zhongxian could only feel an overwhelming sense of abhorrence towards Rong Lijun. Clearly, Rong Lijun had initiated this confrontation.
Yet now that the fight had begun, he dared not engage directly.
It was nothing but opportunistic trickery, relying on the Asheng Sect's unique movement technique advantage to evade battle entirely.
Another sword stroke went wide. Yi Zhongxian felt as though he were being toyed with, treated like a mere amusement.
His eyes turned frosty, and he decided to sheath his sword and adopt a defensive stance.
"Rong Lijun, are you trying to be some jumping clown? You clearly accept the challenge yet are too afraid to face me directly.
I never imagined the son of a Daoist Immortal could be as timid as a mouse!"
A gentle breeze stirred, scattering leaves, and within the tower, a subtle rain veiled the surroundings. Through the hazy breeze and fine rain, Rong Lijun moved with a graceful, tender, and effortless posture as he traversed his domain. Exhibiting an ethereal aura akin to misty clouds, he floated elegantly like the moon reflected in water or clouds drifting in the sky, arriving softly before Baili An’s feast. He was merely steps from the entrance. Who could have predicted that two esteemed sons of Daoist Immortals, both of noble standing, would descend into a conflict over a few trivial words? Many frowned, yet they hesitated to intervene, fearing the potential trouble. Rong Lijun was typically easygoing; however, today, it seemed he was in a foul mood, offending everyone he encountered. Furthermore, Yi Zhongxian was now enraged; attempting to stop him with words would likely draw one into the battle. Faced with Miss Fang San's profoundly improper behavior, how utterly disgraceful. Baili An sat nonchalantly, showing no intention of observing the disturbance, appearing detached. He lowered his head slightly, drew his sleeves back, and began peeling a crystal purple grape. Nearly a full plate of grapes had been peeled beneath his hand. Rong Lijun’s toes touched the ground, and sensing something amiss, he shifted his gaze toward the table where 'Que Shenjun' sat.