One person: Senior brother Zhang Zhiwei, the Celestial Master begged me to descend the mountain.

On the large screen in the training ground, lights and shadows flickered.

As the aftershocks of the previous match gradually subsided, the giant electronic screen lit up again, and the scrolling names finally settled.

[Celestial Master's Mansion - Zhang Chu] VS [Wuhou Qimen - Zhuge Qing]

boom--!!!

Instantly, deafening cheers erupted from the stands.

"Aaaaaah!!! Ah Qing! Ah Qing, look at me!!"

"Zhuge Qing! I want to have your babies!!"

"Oh my god! This is finally happening! My idol!!"

On the east side of the stands, a large group of young girls holding banners and with heart stickers on their faces were in a state of collective frenzy.

They screamed and waved their glow sticks and support signs, acting more like they were watching an international superstar's concert than a martial arts contest.

Even some grown men who had come to watch the spectacle were so shocked by the terrifying sound that they covered their ears.

"Is this the genius from the Zhuge family?"

"He's quite handsome; no wonder so many young girls are infatuated with him."

"Tsk, playing against this kind of person is stressful. Just the spittle from these fans could drown you."

The entrance to the contestants' passage.

Zhang Taichu squatted on a stone block used to secure a railing, holding a large porcelain bowl that was still steaming.

It was a bowl of hot dry noodles.

The noodles were coated with sesame paste and sprinkled with bright green scallions and a few bright red pickled cowpeas.

suck-

Zhang Taichu completely ignored the overwhelming noise outside.

He buried his head in the bowl and slurped up a large mouthful of noodles.

The rich aroma of sesame paste exploded in his mouth, making him squint his eyes in satisfaction.

"Hmm... the chef's skills are better than they were sixty years ago."

He mumbled indistinctly as he chewed his noodles:

"It's just that her voice is too loud; it sounds like she's eating at a market."

Just then.

Da, da, da.

A rhythmic sound of footsteps approached.

Zhang Taichu didn't look up, continuing to concentrate on finishing the remaining pickled beans in his bowl.

A tall, slender figure stopped in front of him.

The newcomer was dressed in a well-tailored haute couture suit, with his long, light blue hair casually tied back and a folding fan in his hand.

Those signature squinty eyes revealed a languid confidence unique to young masters from aristocratic families.

Zhuge Qing.

Wuhou Qimen is the most outstanding genius of our time.

He looked down at Zhang Taichu, who was squatting on the ground, a hint of curiosity flashing in his eyes.

Is this the legendary Taoist priest who slapped someone into a wall?

It looks like...

How come he looks almost like a beggar?

"This Taoist priest."

Zhuge Qing did not show any disgust because of the other party's slovenliness.

Instead, he gave a slight, gentlemanly bow, his face bearing that signature smile that captivated countless young women:

"I am Zhuge Qing from the Wuhou School."

"I have long admired your esteemed demeanor, and it is an honor to meet you today..."

Zhuge Qing hadn't finished speaking.

suck-

Zhang Taichu sucked the last noodle into his mouth.

He tilted his head back and poured the last bit of sesame paste soup at the bottom of the bowl down his throat.

belch--

A loud burp interrupted Zhuge Qing's opening remarks.

Zhuge Qing's smile froze for a moment, but quickly returned to normal.

He extended his right hand, appearing very polite.

"It's almost time to go on stage, I hope to have a wonderful match with the Taoist priest..."

Zhang Taichu finally raised his head.

His face, with a ring of brown sesame paste around the corner of his mouth, looked comical and ridiculous.

He squinted and looked the handsome young man in front of him up and down.

then.

Before Zhuge Qing could retract his hand, which was originally poised to shake hands, representing friendship and respect.

Snapped.

A greasy, empty porcelain bowl was shoved directly into Zhuge Qing's hands.

Zhuge Qing was stunned.

The bowl still retained a warm temperature and the lingering aroma of sesame paste.

"this……"

Zhuge Qing's brain experienced a brief short circuit.

However, something even more devastating was yet to come.

After stuffing the bowl in, Zhang Taichu did not retract his hand.

Instead, he casually rubbed his hands against the sleeve of Zhuge Qing's expensive, handmade Italian suit a couple of times.

Two oily, sesame-paste-colored handprints suddenly appeared on the once-smooth and crisp fabric of the suit.

"Alright, take it."

After wiping his hands, Zhang Taichu stood up, satisfied.

He patted Zhuge Qing on the shoulder and asked with a sincere expression:

"The noodles taste good, but they're a bit dry."

"By the way, young man."

"Since you're in charge of logistics and collecting dishes, you should know..."

Zhang Taichu looked around and lowered his voice:

"Where's the nearest outhouse?"

"That noodle was a bit spicy, and my stomach... is starting to feel a bit upset."

Quiet.

This time.

Not just the entrance.

Even the once bustling martial arts arena outside fell into an eerie silence.

Because of this scene.

The dedicated cameraman presented it with unparalleled clarity to thousands of viewers on the big screen.

That greasy bowl.

That even greasier handprint.

And then there's Zhuge Qing's handsome face, which went from astonishment to blankness, and then to gradual distortion.

"Holy crap..."

I don't know who exclaimed in surprise first.

Followed by.

The entire stands erupted in chaos.

It wasn't cheering, it was anger.

An overwhelming rage!

"What is that stinky Taoist priest doing?!"

"He actually shoved a bowl at Aqing?! What does he take our Aqing for? A waiter?!"

"That's Ah Qing's favorite suit! A limited edition! He just used it to wipe his hands?!"

"Aaaaaah! Unforgivable! This is an utter insult to our dignity!"

Passageway entrance.

Zhuge Qing's hands were trembling.

His face, which always maintained an elegant smile, now looked like it was wearing a cheap mask, slowly cracking open.

The veins on his forehead throbbed as if they were alive.

He held the greasy, empty bowl in his hands, feeling as if he were holding a grenade about to explode.

No one has ever...

No one has ever dared to treat him like this before!

When has he, a descendant of the prestigious Marquis of Wu, ever suffered such humiliation?!

Did they think of him as a dishwasher?

And you still have to ask him where the toilet is?

huh... huh...

Zhuge Qing took a few deep breaths, forcibly suppressing the urge to smash the bowl over the other person's face.

He closed his eyes and silently recited the calming mantra several times.

When he opened his eyes again, a flash of azure light appeared in those always squinting eyes.

He didn't get angry.

They didn't even throw the bowl on the ground.

Instead, he turned around and gently placed the bowl on the stone stool next to him.

Then, he looked down at the two glaring oily handprints on his cuff.

"Good...very good."

Zhuge Qing's voice was soft, yet it carried a chilling aura that sent shivers down one's spine.

He wasn't simply angry.

As a sorcerer, his intuition was far sharper than that of ordinary people.

Just a moment ago.

When Zhang Taichu shoved the bowl over to him.

He wanted to hide.

Even in a state of extreme shock, his body's instinctive reaction made him want to avoid the action.

but.

I didn't dodge it.

The bowl appeared out of nowhere, as if it had always been in his hands.

And that hand-wiping gesture.

It seemed casual, but it sealed off all his escape routes.

"Looks like... he's not your average madman."

Zhuge Qing slowly raised his head, and a smile returned to his face.

But the smile had lost its previous warmth, leaving only a chilling murderous intent.

"The Taoist priest is really joking."

Zhuge Qing opened his folding fan and gently waved it, trying to cover the oil stain:

"The outhouse is just to the left after you go out, behind that old locust tree."

"but……"

"Master, you'd better hurry."

Zhuge Qing turned around, his back to Zhang Taichu, and walked step by step towards the sunlit arena:

"After all, there's a time limit in the competition."

"If you're late, losing the penalty is a minor issue."

"It wouldn't be good to let so many people wait to see the Taoist priest make a fool of himself."

Looking at Zhuge Qing's back, which was feigned nonchalance but was actually somewhat stiff.

Zhang Taichu stood still, then reached out and picked at the chive leaves stuck between his teeth.

"This child..."

He shook his head and sighed with some regret:

"How petty."

"It's just asking for directions, why are you acting like you're going to kill me?"

"Young people these days have absolutely no sense of service."

Done.

He didn't take Zhuge Qing's threatening words to heart at all.

Instead, they slowly strolled over in the direction the other person pointed.

Excuse me, excuse me.

"Let me go relieve myself first."

"Everyone has to relieve themselves sometimes. Even if the King of Heaven himself came, he'd still have to let people urinate, wouldn't he?"