The Grand Hall fell into a deathly, horrifying silence as the premium spirit wine dripped slowly from Chen Long's fat nose.
The amber liquid had completely soaked his luxurious purple robes, pasting his hair to his forehead and clinging to his fleshy body like a wet rag.
Cultivators did not easily succumb to mortal alcohol, but the Gu Clan's premium spirit wine was brewed with dense spiritual herbs.
The heavy concentration of Qi in the alcohol had already gone straight to Chen Long's head, making his face flush and his balance waver.
"You... you blind dog!" Chen Long roared, his voice trembling with sheer, unadulterated rage as the humiliation set in.
Gu Fan took a calm, measured step backward, keeping a safe distance while holding his empty hands up in a gesture of surrender.
"An accident, Young Master Chen," Gu Fan said smoothly, his tone remarkably composed, though he laced it with a hint of regret, "I accidentally tripped and the pitcher... and the wine... and you. I meant no disrespect."
"You fucking imbecile! My robes! My hair!" Chen Long stood up, as he threw the table out of the way.
"I am going to flay you alive! This is Cloud Silk! It's worth more than your entire bloodline!" He spoke enraged as he swayed slightly.
Meanwhile, Gu Chen paused, his teacup halting halfway to his mouth. His pupils contracted sharply as his gaze locked onto Gu Fan's face.
'It's him?' Gu Chen's mind raced, a jolt of genuine shock piercing his calm facade, 'Shouldn't he be in the dungeon?'
'He is a cripple. How is he walking and reasoning as if he suffered no injuries?'
Suspicion and annoyance flared in Gu Chen's heart. But he quickly masked his shock, sighing softly as he placed his teacup down.
"Cousin Long, stay your hand," Gu Chen said, his voice echoing with righteous calm, playing the perfect host.
Chen Long glared at him, wine dripping from his fat chin, "You want to protect this clumsy rat, Gu Chen?!"
"He is not just a servant," Gu Chen explained, his tone laced with a perfectly calculated mix of pity and subtle disdain.
"This is Gu Fan. My Seventh Brother, and the Patriarch's son. Though he was born with crippled meridians and cannot cultivate a single thread of Qi... he is still family. Please, show some mercy to a cripple."
Gu Fan's internal grin was razor-sharp.
'There it is,' Gu Fan thought. 'The classic 'Hero' move. You pretend to protect me, while actively broadcasting to this enraged, drunk brute that I am a worthless cripple with zero backing.'
Chen Long's eyes lit up with a cruel realisation. He laughed, a wet, ugly sound. "The famous crippled bastard? The shame of the Gu Clan?"
"Good! Very good! Ha! If he is a cripple, then no one will care if I discipline him! I am doing your clan a favour!"
Chen Long didn't hesitate. He launched himself forward, kicking out with his metal-reinforced boot, aiming a lethal strike straight for Gu Fan's ribs.
Gu Fan remained perfectly calm. His reflexes were actually superior to this drunk, bloated cultivator at this point. As the boot flew towards him, Gu Fan casually took a half-step back, shifting his torso just a fraction of an inch out of the way.
Chen Long's metal boot caught nothing but empty air.
Overextended, drunk on spirit wine, and carrying far too much fleshy momentum, Chen Long couldn't stop his forward trajectory. His leading foot landed squarely in the massive puddle of spilled wine.
Swoosh!
His silk slipper slid violently across the polished jade floor. Chen Long's massive, fat body was suddenly forced downward into a perfect, absolute split.
Riiiiiiip!
The expensive purple Cloud Silk robes tore right down the middle seam.
While a cultivator's skin and bones were tough, forcing a three-hundred-pound, inflexible man into a gymnast's split was a different story entirely. Muscles tore and tendons stretched to their absolute breaking points.
"AARGH!" Chen Long howled, a high-pitched scream of pure agony escaping his throat as he was locked in the humiliating split on the floor.
"Careful, Young Master Chen!" Gu Fan cautioned softly, not a single hair on his head out of place. "The floor is quite slippery."
Blind with pain and absolute humiliation, Chen Long's face turned a dangerous shade of crimson. With a roar, his Storage Ring flashed.
A heavy, terrifying weapon materialised in his grasp. It was a Meteor Hammer, a thick, formidable iron chain connected to a massive, spiked iron ball the size of a melon.
Gu Fan's eyes narrowed slightly in genuine surprise.
'A Meteor Hammer? That wasn't in my original story! He was supposed to have a Sword. Did my survival trigger a butterfly effect and change his inventory?'
"I will smash your skull into paste!" Chen Long screamed, struggling to push his fat body up from the split.
He wildly swung the Meteor Hammer in a massive, uppercut arc, wanting to break Gu Fan's jaws and send him flying.
But Chen Long was still completely drunk, his legs were trembling from the torn muscles of his split, and the floor beneath him was still slick with the wine Gu Fan spilled.
As he threw his entire upper body weight into the massive swing, his remaining footing completely gave out, as his shoes slipped on the wine.
Both of Chen Long's feet flew up into the air, and for a good second he was flying in the air before he crashed completely flat onto his back with a resounding, earth-shaking THUD that rattled the nearby tables.
The heavy iron ball, however, was already in motion. Driven by the sheer momentum of Chen Long's own swing and the unforgiving laws of gravity, the massive spiked sphere came hurtling straight down.
CRACK!
SQUELCH!
The heavy iron ball crashed squarely and flawlessly right into Chen Long's crotch.
The entire hall collectively gasped, a few male disciples instinctively crossing their legs as the horrifying sound echoed off the high ceilings.
"Ughh!" Chen Long couldn't even scream, as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his face turned blue.
He let out a breathless, squeaking wheeze, his hands flying down to cup his utterly crushed manhood as he curled into a pathetic, twitching ball on the floor.
At the head table, Madam Li raised her teacup to her lips to hide her expression. To everyone else, she looked indifferent, but beneath the table, her legs were pressed tightly together.
She had seen the subtle, masterful footwork Gu Fan had used to lead the pig into the puddle. Her "Son" had toyed with a peak Body Tempering cultivator without even lifting a finger.
The sheer disrespect and effortless dominance made her pulse quicken and her pussy throb.
"Oh dear," Gu Fan said flatly, stepping forward with a look of mild concern. He knelt beside the groaning, twitching mass of fat, "Young Master Chen, are you severely injured? Let me help you."
He reached out, grabbing Chen Long's right hand to 'assist' him. As he did, his fingers brushed directly against the glittering Spatial Ring on Chen Long's index finger.
[System Scan Complete.]
[Target: Storage Ring (Low Grade).]
[Contents Detected: 5000 Low-Grade Spirit Crystals, 150 Medium-Grade Spirit Crystals, an Earth-Tier Spirit Sword, three vials of Aphrodisiac Potions, Clan Token.]
"Ghk... ahhh..." Chen Long could only gurgle, his body paralyzed by the sheer, ungodly pain radiating from his crotch.
Gu Chen stood up, his face dark as a raincloud.
"Enough of this nonsense," Gu Chen ordered, his voice laced with genuine disgust. He waved his hand at the perimeter guards, "Escort the Seventh Young Master back to his quarters immediately. And someone carry Cousin Long to the infirmary before he passes out."
Two guards rushed forward, flanking Gu Fan and guiding him firmly toward the side exit.
Gu Fan didn't resist. He bowed politely to Gu Chen and then towards Madam Li before turning his back to the hall to hide the dark, victorious smirk spreading across his face.
The heavy wooden doors slammed shut behind him, as Madam Li saw the retreating figure of Gu Fan with a smirk playing on her lips.
'Oh, Gu Fan!'
'I want you so bad.'
** ** ** ** **