While I was chanting a curse, the system said I was Xiao Yan?

The air in the conference room seemed to be sucked out for a moment.

Then, an uproar erupted.

"presumptuous!"

The old man on the left suddenly stood up, his chair tipping over and crashing to the floor with a dull thud: "Who do you think you are? How dare you say such things?"

"How dare you!"

Another elderly man on the right slammed his hand on the table, his voice sharp as the scraping of metal, "The Directorate General is the highest authority in the world of sorcery! For hundreds of years, not a single sorcerer has dared to act recklessly here!"

"A mere level two sorcerer dares to defy the authority of the Supervision Department!"

"Is this how Zen monasteries teach their juniors?"

"They must be severely punished! They must be severely punished!"

The shouts and curses came like a tidal wave, one after another, echoing in the dimly lit conference room. The candlelight flickered and swayed from the sound waves, and the shadows reflected on the screen also swayed, like a group of startled ghosts.

Tianyan stood still, hands in his pockets, his expression unchanged. He looked at the middle-aged man holding the report and said, "You're from Jiamao's family, aren't you?"

"I've seen similar spells to the Crimson Blood Manipulation Technique before, there's no mistake."

The middle-aged man's pupils contracted slightly, but quickly returned to normal. He pushed up his glasses and sneered, "So what if it is?"

Tianyan withdrew his gaze and glanced at the shadowy figures behind the screen: "I'm just confirming, are there any members of the Chan family among you here?"

There was a moment of silence in the conference room.

No one answered.

Tianyan's lips curved slightly, his smile carrying a knowing smugness.

"no."

He answered for them: "Not a single one."

"So, you want to put me on trial?"

He tilted his head, his tone carrying an ambiguous meaning: "The people of the Zen family are being judged by a group of outsiders?"

"Zen Temple Heavenly Flame!"

The old man on the right shouted sternly, "The Supervisory Department is not the private property of any one family! This is the highest authority in the world of sorcery! Since you are a sorcerer, you must accept the jurisdiction of the Supervisory Department!"

"Jurisdiction?"

Tianyan repeated the word as if savoring its meaning, then he smiled faintly, but there was no joy in his eyes.

"Aren't you mistaken about something?"

He took a step forward, without making a big fuss, but everyone in the conference room felt an invisible pressure, as if a large beast had suddenly opened its eyes.

"In my eyes, the Zen monks are the greatest."

His voice wasn't loud, but every word pierced the ears of everyone present like nails: "The Directorate and my Zen Temple have at most a cooperative and mutually beneficial relationship."

The air in the conference room seemed to freeze.

"In my opinion, the positions of everyone here should rightfully be occupied by members of the Zen family."

His gaze swept over the figures on the screens, his tone as calm as if stating an obvious fact: "I can tolerate you sitting in these positions for now, and in principle, I agree to do what you have been assigned."

"but!"

He paused, his gaze sharpening.

"If you continue to speak to me in such a condescending tone, if you continue to forcibly pin those unfounded accusations on me..."

He raised his right hand and pointed his thumb at his chest.

"In myself, the future head of the Zen family."

His lips slowly curved into a smile, as warm as a spring breeze, but his words were as cold as ice shards in the dead of winter.

"Then don't blame me for splitting even the cockroaches in your house vertically!"

The meeting room was completely silent.

The figures behind the screens froze, as if someone had pressed the pause button. The candlelight burned quietly, making a faint crackling sound that was particularly clear in the deathly silence.

The silence lasted for about five seconds.

Then these people in high positions of power, who were used to a life of luxury, erupted.

"Baka yarou!"

"Outrageous! Outrageous!"

"A mere level two sorcerer! How dare he be so arrogant!"

The old man on the right was trembling with anger, pointing at Tianyan with his finger, his lips quivering, but he couldn't utter a single word. The old man on the left had a flushed face, and the veins on his forehead bulged like twisted earthworms.

The middle-aged man with gold-rimmed glasses had a face so gloomy it could drip water: "Zen Temple Heavenly Flame."

His voice was no longer calm, but carried an extremely suppressed gloom: "You are too arrogant."

He raised his hand and spread his five fingers.

Crimson Blood Manipulation Technique, activated!

Dark red blood seeped from his fingertips, quickly condensing and shaping in the air into a dozen thin, hair-like blood needles, each gleaming with a chilling light. The blood needles hovered in the air for less than half a second before shooting out simultaneously, so fast that they left only dark red afterimages in the air.

More than a dozen blood needles, from different angles, blocked all of Tianyan's evasion routes.

The others in the meeting room remained still; some sneered, some watched, and some waited to see this arrogant young man get pinned to the wall.

Tianyan vanished from his spot when the blood needle was less than half a meter away from his body, and reappeared beside the middle-aged man.

"So fast!"

The middle-aged man turned his head in shock to look at Tianyan, who was standing next to him with his hands in his pockets. He hadn't even seen how the other man had approached!

Tianyan pulled his hand out of his pocket.

There was no bone armor, no bone blade, and not even any obvious fluctuation of magical power. He simply raised his right hand and casually waved it to the side.

The movement didn't look like a fight; it looked more like shooing away an annoying fly.

"Bang!"

The middle-aged man's body flew backward as if hit by a cannonball, heading directly towards the location where the old men were.

His back slammed through the screen behind him, the sound of the wooden frame shattering and the paper tearing mingling together, exploding in the conference room.

The screen painted with landscape paintings was broken in the middle. The upper half tilted forward and crashed onto the conference table, sweeping candlesticks and documents all over the floor. The lower half was still standing there, but it was crooked and looked like it could fall over at any moment.

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses didn't stop; he continued flying backward, crashing through the second screen, then the third, the fourth...

"Snap! Snap! Snap!"

The sound of the screen shattering was as dense as firecrackers, wood chips and scraps of paper scattered in the air, the blast extinguished most of the candlelight, and the light in the conference room suddenly dimmed.

When the last screen shattered, the man with the gold-rimmed glasses finally stopped. He collapsed amidst a pile of broken wood and scraps of paper, his glasses askew, blood trickling from his mouth, looking utterly disheveled.

The dozen or so blood needles scattered into a blood mist after hitting the ground, but they didn't even touch the hem of Tianyan's clothes.

The meeting room fell completely silent.

That silence wasn't stillness, but a deathly stillness born of being so frightened that one was speechless.

Tianyan withdrew his hand, his gaze sweeping over the broken screens.

Behind the screen, those figures that were originally hidden behind the curtain were now all exposed in the candlelight.

Seven or eight elderly men, their faces showing varying degrees of shock, fear, and disbelief.

Their expressions were particularly interesting in the flickering candlelight; some had their mouths open and forgot to close them, some had their eyes wide open like copper bells, and some leaned back slightly, as if they were hiding from something they couldn't see.

Tianyan's gaze swept across their faces one by one, and then the corners of his mouth curved slightly.

"A level two sorcerer?"

He repeated the title, his tone carrying an ambiguous sarcasm: "The certification level of your Director's Department, in the eyes of a member of this Zen Temple family..."

He put his hands back in his pockets and turned to walk towards the door.

"It's meaningless."

Footsteps echoed in the quiet conference room, unhurried and deliberate, just as they had when they arrived.

Tianyan walked to the door and pushed it open.

The lights from outside flooded in, casting a long shadow in front of him and splitting the dimly lit conference room in two.

He stood at the doorway, tilted his head, and looked at the elderly people in the conference room who were squinting because of the bright lights.

"Oh, right."

His voice was soft, as if he were reminding me of something trivial: "Next time you come to me, remember not to make the same mistake again."

"I'm very busy."

An elderly man, suppressing his fear, shouted weakly, "You'll regret this, Zen Temple Tianyan!"

Tianyan's lips curled into a disdainful smile: "Heh, I'm surnamed Chanyuan."

"Bang!"

The door closed behind him with a dull thud, shutting out the darkness and silence from the conference room.