She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 98

◎The Unscrupulous Extent of Billowing Black Smoke◎

Although this expedition into the demon realm was cut short, the necessary work still had to be done.

Wu Manshuang carried Yan Luoyue on his back as the two returned to the site of the earthen seal, now broken with a gaping hole, and began their task.

Wu Manshuang planned to dismantle the crude earthen seal and replace it with a demon-realm barrier capable of filtering the strength of demonic creatures.

As for Yan Luoyue, her expertise in formations was not as refined as Wu Manshuang’s, so she assisted him from the sidelines.

Novice cultivators often wondered:

If earthen seals could block all demonic creatures, while demon-realm barriers allowed weaker ones to escape, why not just use the sturdier earthen seals?

The answer lay in an unspoken premise—cultivators regularly entered the first two layers of the barrier to purge low- and mid-tier demonic creatures.

The demon-realm barrier, with its descending levels of defense, acted like a filtration net.

This net precisely sieved out the weaker, still-developing demons, nipping them in the bud.

Moreover, it ensured that cultivators gained sufficient combat experience.

If the demon realm ever amassed an army to invade the human world again, seasoned cultivators would already be familiar with their foes.

As for the earthen seal, while it indiscriminately blocked all demons, its defensive power paled in comparison to the demon-realm barrier.

Once shattered, the consequences would mirror those of the second layer of the forbidden land—powerful and weak demons surging forth in a blood-soaked frenzy.

"Actually, I think there’s a third reason for using the demon-realm barrier," Yan Luoyue said with a teasing smile. "It’s cheaper than the earthen seal!"

After all, the demon-realm barrier utilized local resources, incorporating demonic energy as one of its materials, saving a third of the spirit stones required for the earthen seal.

Given the exorbitant cost of each barrier, that one-third reduction amounted to a staggering sum.

Wu Manshuang continued working without pause, silently agreeing with Yan Luoyue’s assessment.

But still…

"Is there any issue involving spirit stones that you wouldn’t notice, Luoyue?"

Yan Luoyue stuck out her tongue. "I can’t compete with your frugality—you even saved up enough rabbit fur to make a felt blanket."

There was an undeniable joy in privately mocking their master.

The two exemplary disciples of Ji Qinghong exchanged a glance, their expressions tinged with youthful mischief.

Though they had jested at their master’s expense, neither neglected their duties.

Yan Luoyue retrieved materials from her storage pouch while Wu Manshuang’s fingers flew, swiftly driving the first layer of wedges into the eighty-one key positions.

Coincidentally, the current sealing method had been refined by Ji Qinghong himself.

This improved demon-realm barrier was more potent, simpler to construct, and could even be completed by a single person.

Ji Qinghong seemed to harbor a peculiar obsession with demon-realm barriers.

Due to considerations of manpower, cost, and risk, most barriers in the cultivation world were left untouched unless damaged beyond repair.

Yet, over the years, Ji Qinghong had tirelessly researched these barriers, even when unnecessary.

Rumor had it that every two or three centuries, he would revolutionize the technology behind them.

At first, Yan Luoyue had privately mocked this habit, suspecting it was a form of PTSD from the Demon-Subduing War.

But later, she heard a certain rumor.

Over three thousand years ago, Ji Qinghong’s master had been a young woman named Yun Sulü.

The two were said to be close in age and had grown up together.

By all logic, they should have been martial siblings rather than master and disciple.

But before the Demon-Subduing War, relations between humans and demons were far less amicable than today.

Even the Guiyuan Sect, the foremost sect in the land, held some prejudice against demons.

After some twists and turns, Ji Qinghong entered the Guiyuan Sect as Yun Sulü’s disciple.

Whether this was a case of "circumventing the rules" remained unknown.

After all, Yun Sulü had perished in the Demon-Subduing War.

—When the war began, Ji Qinghong and Yun Sulü were assigned to the same squad.

Due to the selfish motives of the Hongtong Palace, the squad received no reinforcements in time, leading to near-total annihilation. Ji Qinghong was the sole survivor.

Later, while browsing the sect’s archives, Yan Luoyue stumbled upon a memoir titled A Century of Demon-Subduing: The Guiyuan Sect’s Tales of Valor.

Within its pages, she discovered Yun Sulü’s name and learned the deeper truth:

Yun Sulü had not died at the hands of demons.

Amid the relentless demonic assaults, the squad held their ground while simultaneously crafting a demon-realm barrier.

Yet, despite their desperate wait, reinforcements never arrived. One by one, their comrades fell until only Ji Qinghong and Yun Sulü remained.

As the demonic realm's seal was nearing completion, the attacks from the demonic tribes only intensified, showing no signs of weakening.

If this continued, they would lose the chance to fully restore the seal—and with it, the strategically vital territory they had fought for years to claim.

At this critical moment, Yun Sulü made a resolute decision.

In ancient myths, the goddess Nüwa used her own body to mend the collapsed heavens.

Similarly, Yun Sulü used herself to complete the most crucial part of the seal.

Her story was later recorded in the sect's Danlie Chronicles.

Her portrait was hung in Sulu Hall, where Yan Luoyue sometimes passed by and saw Ji Qinghong sipping tea beside it.

His expression was gentle, his tone light, as if the girl in the painting were still alive.

Perhaps it was intuition, but Yan Luoyue couldn’t help feeling that Ji Qinghong’s later turn to the Path of Emotionless Cultivation was deeply tied to this event.

Regardless, Ji Qinghong devoted immense effort and resources to refining the demonic realm’s seal.

This not only made Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang’s current mission easier but also meant that, should the demonic tribes ever return, similar variations of the seal could prove even more effective.

...

After completing the seal, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang politely declined the Luoshu Sect’s banquet invitation.

They received baskets of gratitude, an assortment of gifts, hundreds of calling cards… and a pile of other miscellaneous items.

Stuffing everything haphazardly into a storage pouch, Yan Luoyue flashed a practiced, polite smile.

Between the two of them, Yan Luoyue usually handled external affairs.

She exchanged pleasantries until her throat ran dry, finally managing to extricate themselves from the crowd’s enthusiasm.

“Whew—finally done.” Dragging Wu Manshuang by the hand, Yan Luoyue dashed into a quiet alley and let out a long, relieved sigh.

Wu Manshuang watched her quietly, noticing a stray lock of hair by her temple. He reached out and gently adjusted her jade hairpin.

“Where to next?”

At this question, Yan Luoyue’s smile brightened with genuine warmth.

She took hold of Wu Manshuang’s sleeve again, pointing decisively in one direction, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Come on, Manshuang—let’s go home together!”

...

No matter how the outside world changed, the turtle clan’s territory remained an eternal haven of tranquility.

When Yan Luoyue brought Wu Manshuang into the clan grounds, the uncles and aunties they met along the way greeted her with warm, familiar smiles.

“Luoyue, you’re back?”

“Brought a friend to visit again?”

“Looking for Yu? She just headed to the riverbank—you might find her there.”

Though Yan Luoyue had been away for nearly six years, their reactions made it seem as if she’d only been gone for six days—or even six hours.

As if she were still the little girl who used to walk hand-in-hand with Yan Gan to school, bringing her closest friends home after class.

Every wandering child who returned to the turtle clan could rediscover their childhood in an instant.

Because this land was like a fragment of time, preserved and unchanging.

Yan Yu still worked as the caretaker of the hatchery.

The job was low-pressure, leisurely, with fixed hours—no overbearing bosses, no endless reports.

She only worked one season a year, spending the rest on paid leave.

Yan Luoyue had once clapped her hands in admiration, declaring it the dream job for modern workers—one that people would fight to keep for life.

Yan Yu had laughed. “No one keeps it for life. The hatchery duty rotates, and it’s just my turn now.”

Curious, Yan Luoyue asked, “How often does the rotation happen?”

Without looking up from her knitting, Yan Yu replied casually, “Oh, pretty quickly—every fifty years.”

Yan Luoyue: “...” Right. Never mind, then.

Hand in hand with Wu Manshuang, stepping into the sunset’s glow, Yan Luoyue returned to her familiar courtyard.

For some reason, that old conversation resurfaced in her mind, bringing a faint smile to her lips.

The smile deepened when the woman hanging laundry in the courtyard turned around.

“Oh—” Yan Yu blinked in surprise but didn’t miss a beat.

Softly, as if Yan Luoyue had just come home from school, she said, “You’re back, Luoyue.”

“Mm! I’m home!” Yan Luoyue nodded emphatically.

At this, Yan Yu’s eyes curved with joy. “And you’ve brought a friend?”

Yan Luoyue nudged Wu Manshuang forward. “This is Manshuang—my junior brother and my most important friend.”

“What a lovely child,” Yan Yu murmured warmly. “So, Manshuang, what do you like to eat? I’ll fry some fish for dinner tonight.”

Wu Manshuang hurriedly waved his hands, insisting he wasn’t picky.

“Luoyue, take your friend inside to rest.”

With a smile, Yan Yu turned and led the way toward the house.

Just as Yan Luoyue thought her sister would walk straight into the house, Yan Yu suddenly stopped in her tracks.

She turned and walked back to Yan Luoyue, patting her head affectionately as she had done when they were children.

"Ah, I can hardly believe it—my little Luoyue has grown so tall now."

In the past, when Yan Luoyue leaned against her sister, her forehead could only reach Yan Yu's calves.

Now, she could effortlessly rest her head on Yan Yu's shoulder.

Yan Yu tenderly stroked Yan Luoyue's hair, then plucked a blossom from the newly bloomed plum tree and gently tucked it behind her ear.

The vibrant red plum flower bloomed brilliantly, mirroring the radiant smile on the young girl's face.

...

Yan Luoyue's bedroom was neat and tidy, exactly as it had been when she left home.

Only now that she had grown taller, her bed seemed a little too small, and her desk slightly too low.

After wandering around the room for a while, Yan Luoyue first sat at her desk and wrote a few words, then opened the drawers of her vanity to inspect them, before finally turning with a grin and settling onto her small bed.

At this moment, she fully understood the sentiment behind the lines: "Open the eastern chamber door, sit upon the western chamber bed."

—Hey, my little bed. Hey, my little desk. I'm back.

From the moment he entered, Wu Manshuang had been sitting properly on a chair.

While Yan Luoyue darted around the room, greeting her old belongings, he ran his fingers gently over her bedside table with a look of nostalgia and fondness.

When Yan Luoyue turned and noticed his gesture, a long-buried memory surfaced.

"Ah, that reminds me," she said wistfully. "Do you remember the second time we met?"

Wu Manshuang smiled faintly. "I do. You had me coil around your wrist, pretending to be a bracelet."

Yan Luoyue sighed. "Back then, I didn’t know you were a demon. I just thought you were an ordinary little snake. I even marveled at how clever you were—just a little nudge, and you understood exactly what I wanted."

Wu Manshuang chuckled and teased, "And now?"

Yan Luoyue grinned. "Now? You’ve regressed quite a bit. Just passable, I suppose."

Wu Manshuang blinked. "Why do you say that?"

Yan Luoyue raised her fingers, counting off her reasoning:

"When you were still a little green snake, you shamelessly took advantage of your cuteness to mooch food off me. But after taking human form, not only did you lose your free-meal privileges, but you also ended up having to buy treats for me all the time. Tell me, isn’t that a downgrade?"

So that was the kind of "regression" she meant.

Wu Manshuang replied leisurely, "In that case, I can regress even further."

"Don’t you dare—you’re already too much of a soft touch."

Yan Luoyue shot him a mock-scolding glance before letting her gaze drift to the bedside table beneath his hand.

"After just one night of sheltering you, you left behind a single emerald scale as 'rent.'"

"That wasn’t rent," Wu Manshuang said gently. "It was a token."

"You saved my life, and I was deeply grateful. But at the time, I couldn’t speak. I only hoped that by leaving it, I could tell you—I was willing to repay you with my life."

"And now?" Yan Luoyue arched a brow at him. "Still planning to repay me with your life?"

The question seemed harmless, but it was a trap.

If the little snake dared to nod, still treating his life lightly, insisting on keeping his word even at the cost of his own survival... then tonight’s dinner at Yan Luoyue’s house would likely feature a hearty bowl of snake soup.

Wu Manshuang smiled faintly.

With eyes darker and deeper than most, he carried an air of quiet mystery.

When he wasn’t smiling, he often seemed distant, and even his smiles were usually polite and restrained.

But Yan Luoyue loved seeing him smile.

Because whenever Wu Manshuang smiled at her, it was like a clear, shallow pool of water in a porcelain cup—pure and translucent, just as it was now.

Wu Manshuang took her hand and gave it a light shake.

"Between you and me," he said solemnly, "if we still speak of 'repayment,' that would be far too shallow."

Yan Luoyue blinked, finding every word of his answer perfectly to her liking.

Though...

"Ah, I just remembered something else."

She tapped the bedside table with a grin. "Right here, you also stole one of my hair ties—a little fuzzy pom-pom."

Wu Manshuang: "..."

Mention of that long-ago act of petty theft brought a faint flush to his cheeks.

Yan Luoyue playfully swung their clasped hands.

"Why did you take one of my pom-poms? They always came in pairs—after you took one, the other was useless!"

As she spoke, she pulled open the bedside drawer, pretending to search for evidence to confront him.

To her surprise, the lone little white pom-pom was still there.

"Ah, it really is here." Yan Luoyue clicked her tongue.

She plucked out the soft, fluffy white ball and dangled it in front of Wu Manshuang.

"See? It looks so lonely."

Wu Manshuang dodged left and right, yet still couldn’t escape Yan Luoyue’s relentless pursuit as she playfully brushed a fluffy ball against his cheek.

The white pom-pom, soft as a powder puff, trailed from his forehead down to the tip of his nose, nearly making him sneeze. Before it could threaten to tickle his ear, Wu Manshuang raised his hands in surrender, signaling a truce.

"Actually…"

As he spoke, he retrieved a small parcel from the storage pouch at his waist. The package was no larger than a palm, light as a feather, and wrapped in layers upon layers of excessive packaging.

Yan Luoyue watched as Wu Manshuang peeled away one layer of oiled paper, then a handkerchief, followed by a sheet of soft silk, before finally revealing another white pom-pom—a perfect match to the first.

Though one of the fluffy pair had always been kept safely in a drawer, the other had accompanied its owner through years of hardship, even stained with his blood at times. Yet, after the storms had passed, it had been meticulously washed, carrying the fresh scent of soapberries.

Moreover, someone had lovingly and carefully combed its fur smooth with a small brush, preserving its original clean and adorable appearance.

Now, ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‍when the two pom-poms were placed side by side, they looked nearly identical in wear.

Yan Luoyue seemed visibly surprised.

Wu Manshuang, however, exhaled in satisfaction. "Now, they’re no longer lonely."

Yan Luoyue picked up one of the pom-poms and gave it a gentle squeeze. Soft, springy white fur spilled like water between her fingers.

She placed both pom-poms atop her head and glanced in the mirror, immediately bursting into laughter.

"Guess they don’t suit me anymore."

After all, Yan Luoyue had grown tall and slender like a willow branch, no longer the little girl with stubby limbs who used to be carried in her brothers’ arms.

Behind her, Wu Manshuang gazed intently at her back and the smiling reflection in the mirror.

At this moment, it was as if a decade had folded in on itself.

The brave little girl who once stood fearlessly in the light of the marketplace overlapped with the graceful, slender figure before him now.

Between them, it seemed there were countless versions of her, each sculpted by time.

And Wu Manshuang had witnessed nearly every one.

If what Ling Shuanghun recorded in his scrolls could be called The Chronicles of Yan Luoyue, then Wu Manshuang’s memories were a far livelier Daily Life of Yan Luoyue.

"They suit you just fine," Wu Manshuang said, his eyes never leaving her, his tone utterly sincere. "You’ve always been beautiful."

……

After staying at home for a few nights, Yan Luoyue bid farewell to Yan Yu once more.

Her elder sister stood at the courtyard gate, her smile gentle.

Bending slightly, just as she had when sending Yan Gan and Yan Luoyue off to school years ago, Yan Yu pressed a small pouch of snacks into each of their hands and straightened their collars in turn.

"Go on, take care of yourselves," Yan Yu said softly. "Listen to your teachers. And don’t forget to write."

Even when Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang had walked far, far away, a glance back revealed Yan Yu still watching them.

Her graceful figure leaning against the gate, like the tranquil and peaceful homeland behind them, would forever remain—waiting, protecting, and always ready to welcome Yan Luoyue back with open arms.

……

This return to Yunning Great Marsh meant Yan Luoyue had several people she absolutely had to see.

Sister Yu at the turtle clan’s courtyard was naturally one.

Beyond her, Yan Luoyue had also been missing her two brothers dearly.

But…

After flipping through the invitations she’d received lately, Yan Luoyue thought it wouldn’t hurt to make a detour to Ruyi City and visit Zhen Zhuo’er and the shopkeeper before reuniting with Yan Gan and Sang Ji.

With that in mind, she acted.

She changed into her "Yan Bixin" disguise—black robes, her face hidden beneath the shadow of a hood.

Adjusting her voice and slipping on a pair of silver-starred gauze gloves, Yan Luoyue rehearsed in front of the mirror until she perfectly embodied the paranoid eccentric she was impersonating. Only then did she step onto the stairs of Zhaoxin Residence.

The shopkeeper nearly couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw "Yan Bixin."

"Master—Master Yan?!"

Yan Bixin gave a slight nod.

"T-this… You’re truly a rare guest!" the shopkeeper stammered. "Please, wait a moment—let me inform the proprietor. Head upstairs, your usual seat is ready. We must catch up properly!"

Judging by the shopkeeper’s demeanor, even after Zhen Zhuo’er had risen to become Ruyi City’s true ruler, she hadn’t adopted the arrogance so common among those in power.

She hadn’t grown stubborn or domineering.

Her former subordinates still spoke of her with the same respect and warmth.

Beneath the hood, Yan Luoyue’s lips curled into a faint smile.

Knowing Yan Bixin was Yan Luoyue’s senior brother, Zhen Zhuo’er hurried over the moment she heard of his visit.

Her tone was warm yet respectful, her sparkling eyes carrying a hint of joy as if reuniting with an old friend.

Whether this joy was genuine or not, Yan Luoyue had to admit that as long as Zhen Zhuo'er wished, she could make everyone around her feel at ease.

"Master Yan, your purpose for this trip is..."

Yan Bixin replied succinctly, "I was sent by our master to escort my junior siblings here."

Zhen Zhuo'er nodded, thinking this aligned perfectly with her expectations.

When such young disciples ventured far from home, their master would naturally worry and likely arrange safeguards for them.

Now, it seemed the senior brother had been secretly watching over them all along.

With the two envoys having completed their mission—and done so quite well—the senior brother could finally relax and enjoy some time alone.

Having her assumptions confirmed, Zhen Zhuo'er's smile grew even more carefree.

Of course, had she known what kind of person Ji Qinghong truly was, or how monstrous Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang's talents were, she might not have made such conventional guesses.

Zhen Zhuo'er giggled playfully as she boasted.

She mentioned that whenever the Canglang Sect—no, the "Howling Sect," as she had nearly slipped—came to Zhaoxin Residence to purchase goods, they had always been given a 5% discount.

Casually bringing up such a gesture that pleased both parties, she swiftly moved past it with effortless grace.

Yan Bixin, maintaining his usual solemn demeanor, briefly thanked Zhen Zhuo'er before steering the conversation toward business in under three sentences.

"Does the City Lord know about the 'game consoles'?"

Zhen Zhuo'er immediately responded, "The games crafted by your junior sister? They are truly artifacts on par with 'Monster Slayer.'"

"Though, the consoles are pricier and rarer, so 'Monster Slayer' remains more common in Yunning Great Marsh."

Had Yan Bixin and Yan Luoyue truly been senior brother and junior sister, Zhen Zhuo'er's words would have been a perfectly balanced compliment to both.

But since the two identities belonged to the same person, Yan Bixin merely gave a reserved nod.

The black-robed artificer rasped, "My collaborations with the City Lord have always been pleasant. If you are interested, I would like to propose an agency contract."

Zhen Zhuo'er's ears perked up, her sharp instincts catching the scent of opportunity.

"An agency contract?"

"Indeed," Yan Bixin remained unshaken. "A contract granting you the rights to distribute the game consoles within Yunning Great Marsh."

They spent some time finalizing the terms and ironing out every detail.

By the time the contract was settled, even someone as shrewd and capable as Zhen Zhuo'er felt a hint of exhaustion.

Yet she still managed to praise the black-robed artificer with a bright smile.

"When the consoles first appeared, I didn’t understand why a 'character account' required a separate card."

"—Only later did I grasp the depth of your junior sister’s design."

Hearing such flattery, even with his face hidden beneath the hood, Yan Bixin felt a faint warmth in his cheeks.

The reason was simple... separating the account cards from the main console made it easier to turn a profit.

Yan Luoyue wasn’t just selling "game consoles"—she was selling different character cards alongside them.

Apart from the initial random card pack included with purchase, all other character cards had to be drawn from the character pool—essentially, a blind box.

In an era without the internet, Yan Luoyue had ingeniously replaced online gacha mechanics with offline sales.

The pool of characters could be refreshed, with newer, more dazzling heroes constantly introduced.

In other words, it was a masterclass in monetization.

Zhen Zhuo'er remarked meaningfully, "I refuse to believe Master Yan had no hand in this. This venture must be a joint effort between you and your junior sister, no?"

Yan Bixin remained silent, as if tacitly agreeing.

Out of past camaraderie, the black-robed artificer shared an insider tip.

"The second-generation consoles are currently in development."

Though Yan Luoyue loved profit and games, she also wanted players to reap tangible benefits while enjoying themselves.

In other words, she aimed to push further.

Transitioning from dazzling "virtual games" on screens to "full-simulation" experiences—controlled by spiritual energy, allowing cultivators to train their skills in sync.

This demanded an artificer’s mastery over space and time to an exacting degree. Even for Yan Luoyue, it was no simple task.

But she wanted to try.

If the new consoles succeeded, they could even simulate secret realm environments, serving as training grounds for cultivators.

For small and mid-sized sects lacking access to such resources, the second-generation "consoles" would transcend mere entertainment, becoming teaching tools or even official equipment.

By then, the consoles would no longer be sold to individuals. Instead, transactions would be conducted directly with sects and cities.

Zhen Zhuo'er listened, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

Very quickly, she realized the extraordinary significance of this second-generation "game console"—no, perhaps it shouldn’t be called a game console, but a holographic training simulator?—for small and mid-sized sects.

Under such circumstances, if Ruyi City secured the exclusive distribution rights for the Yunning Great Marsh…

Ruyi City had always been a small town.

Zhen Zhuo'er had worked tirelessly for years to transform it from an unremarkable little town into one brimming with vitality and youthful energy.

But if they could seize this opportunity… perhaps Ruyi City could change its fate as a remote border town and rise to become a major hub of the Yunning Great Marsh?

At this thought, Zhen Zhuo'er’s eyes sparkled with contemplation, her already stunning face becoming even more radiant.

Zhen Zhuo'er sighed softly, "Meeting Master Yan is truly the greatest fortune of my life."

...

After Yan Gan and Sang Ji joined the Cuìyǔ Sect, their solid cultivation foundations and good rapport with others quickly earned them promotions to inner disciples.

From the letters they sent via paper cranes, it was clear the two brothers had been doing well.

Now, seeing them in person, they looked even more impressive—their armor polished to a glossy sheen, exuding vigor.

Yan Luoyue felt reassured and introduced the little snake to them, "Brother, Brother Ji, this is Manshuang, my most important junior brother."

"Ohhh!" Yan Gan’s enthusiastic personality hadn’t changed a bit despite the years apart.

"My little sister’s junior brother is my little brother too—hello, little brother!"

Sang Ji was quick to match his energy, "That’s right, little sister’s brother is our shared little brother—hello, little brother!"

The two brothers called out affectionately.

Within just three seconds, they had addressed Wu Manshuang as "little brother" over twenty times.

Wu Manshuang was both touched and bewildered.

Amid the chorus of "little brother," he blinked in confusion, feeling like something was slightly off.

Yan Luoyue coughed lightly, thinking her brothers might have joined the wrong sect.

After all, more than half of the Cuìyǔ Sect’s disciples were avian cultivators.

—Look at these two goofy brothers! They’d practically turned into parrot-like versions of their former selves!

After receiving Yan Luoyue’s message, Yan Gan and Sang Ji both took leave from their sect.

The two brothers planned to accompany their little sister and little brother for a good time, reliving the happy memories of their childhood.

In that case…

Suddenly, Yan Luoyue remembered the crystal beast-head ring.

So, she suggested, "Why don’t we all go to the Silver Light Arena to unwind?"

The proposal was unanimously approved.

If they were going to have fun, they might as well go all out.

Worried that Yan Luoyue, having experienced the bustling world around the Guiyuan Sect, might find their local Silver Light Arena lacking in entertainment options, the brothers proposed visiting the arena in the largest nearby city—Tianyuan City.

Yan Gan said excitedly, "I heard the Silver Light Arena in Tianyuan City has dedicated fight commentators!"

"Really?"

Sang Ji’s eyes gleamed mischievously as a scheme took shape in his mind.

He pulled Yan Gan aside, and the two whispered conspiratorially.

Soon, Yan Gan and Sang Ji were grinning wickedly in unison.

Based on years of experience with her brothers’ antics, Yan Luoyue could tell—whatever they were plotting was definitely not heartwarming.

Yet the brothers swore solemnly.

Yan Gan declared, "Just wait and see, little sister. Brother Ji and I will put on an amazing show for you."

Sang Ji flashed a smug smile, adding, "That’s right—an amazing show."

Yan Luoyue rubbed her nose, already mentally lighting a candle for the Silver Light Arena.

As expected, when her brothers got flashy, trouble was bound to follow.

Normally, the Silver Light Arena was a chain business, and a fighter’s rank could be used across locations.

Despite both already having arena rankings, Yan Gan and Sang Ji had the attendants help them register new ones.

Upon hearing their chosen fighter names, Yan Luoyue thought, "…"

She had a pretty good idea what her brothers were up to.

Even the attendant registering them looked baffled.

She double-checked, "Honored guests, are you… really sure you want these names?"

"Absolutely."

Sang Ji grinned, flashing a confident, crocodilian smile full of white teeth.

He slung an arm around Yan Gan’s shoulders.

"Oh, and I’d like to schedule a match with this guy—and make sure we get a commentator! That’s non-negotiable!"

The attendant gave them a strange look but agreed.

Half an hour later, Sang Ji and Yan Gan stood at opposite ends of the arena.

The commentator began with his usual composed confidence, introducing the fighters.

"On my left, we have the Bronze-ranked fighter—‘From the South Came a Lama.’"

Sang Ji nodded graciously, acknowledging the crowd.

"Standing to my right is our Bronze Arena Champion—'From the North Came a Mute.'"

Yan Gan smiled brightly, waving to Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang in the stands.

"Now, let the match begin."

Within seconds of the match starting, the commentator realized something was off.

Sang Ji lightly punched Yan Gan in the chest.

The commentator quickly tried to keep up:

"As we can see, 'From the South Came a Lama' punches 'From the North Came a Mute'..."

Yan Gan threw his head back, pretending to roar.

The commentator had to match the energy: "'From the North Came a Mute' refuses to lose to 'From the South Came a La—Lama.'"

At this point, the commentator fully grasped the challenge ahead—because he was already stumbling over his words!

Then, Sang Ji suddenly pulled out a trumpet from his waist!

The commentator: "..."

Gritting his teeth, he forced a smile and soldiered on:

"'From the South Came a Lama' draws a large trumpet from his waist."

Not to be outdone, Yan Gan whipped out a freshly inked banner and unfurled it with a flourish!

"—'From the North Came a Mute' presents a banner that reads: 'You Crawl.'"

Once their "weapons" were revealed, Yan Gan and Sang Ji valiantly clashed!

Their punches and kicks followed familiar sparring patterns, dealing no real damage.

The only true victim here was the commentator, whose lips were practically sparking from the strain.

He struggled through: "Alright, we now see 'From the South Came a Lama' bonking 'From the North Came a Mute' with his trumpet, while 'From the North Came a Mute' smothers 'From the South Came a Lama's' face with 'You Crawl.'"

At this moment, no one in the audience cared about the actual fight.

All eyes were fixed on the poor, dutiful commentator.

Clutching his last shred of dignity, he pressed on:

"Next, 'From the South Came a Lama' snatches 'You Crawl' from 'From the North Came a Mute,' who retaliates by grabbing the trumpet..."

But even that dignity crumbled in the next scene.

Sang Ji hoisted the banner and asked, "Trade? My honky-tonk trumpet!"

Yan Gan raised the trumpet and declared, "No deal! I won’t take this crawly 'You Crawl'!"

The commentator could only sigh: "'From the South Came a Lama' wants to swap back his honky-tonk trumpet with 'From the North Came a Mute,' who refuses to trade his crawly 'You Crawl'..."

As Sang Ji and Yan Gan exchanged grins, clearly plotting more chaos, the commentator’s last nerve finally snapped.

He abruptly stopped, howling at the sky: "I’LL TRADE!!!"

The entire crowd gaped at him.

The commentator wailed, "Enough! Stop fighting! I’ll quit this job, okay?!"

Everyone: "..."

No, you don’t need to quit—you just need a break.

They understood. Truly!

...Honestly, how did these two even come up with this?

Was this diabolical, smoke-spewing scheme spun on some random wheel of mischief?