"Ginger is hotter when it's old."
The ancient proverb had never been more apt. Han Tianyi, the sharp-eyed master of illusions, saw the hesitation in Qian Gu Dongfeng's eyes and moved in for the kill. He knew exactly which string to pull to make the Master of the Spirit Pagoda dance.
"A grandson this exceptional can bring prosperity for three generations," Han Tianyi whispered, his voice resonating with a weight that felt like prophecy. "The future Zhangting... he won't just match the current number one person in the world, Yun Ming. He will surpass him. The new generation must excel the old."
The name Yun Ming was the final nail in the coffin.
Qian Gu Dongfeng's psyche was a twisted labyrinth of resentment. Having lived his entire life in the shadow of the Atlas Douluo, suppressed at every turn, his desire to surpass Yun Ming had become an obsession. If Zhangting was the weapon that could finally break that shadow, Dongfeng would burn the world to provide the fuel.
"Good," Dongfeng said, his voice raspy with suppressed emotion. "Elder Han, your judgment of people has always been surgical. Since you are willing to act as his Dao Protector, I would be a fool to stand in his way."
He reached into his desk and pulled out the document: "Spirit Pagoda's Proposal for the Body Sect." "You were a disciple of the Body Sect," Dongfeng continued, handing the file over. "In terms of seniority, you are the Martial Uncle of the current Sect Master, Mu Ye. No one is better suited to handle these negotiations. Take whatever you need from the Spirit Pagoda Treasury. I will handle the Council; they won't dare vote against us."
The Showdown of Wits
Han Tianyi took the proposal, but as he did, his eyes caught the interior of the drawer. Inside, proposals were stacked like mountain ranges. Zhangting's "Body Sect" proposal was right on top.
A coincidence? Right on top? Han Tianyi wondered, a hint of suspicion prickling his mind.
He returned to his cultivation room, where Zhangting was waiting like a dutiful student. The boy immediately rushed forward, offering the late tea of apprenticeship with a humility that felt almost too perfect.
"Teacher," Zhangting asked, his eyes sparkling with a fake innocence, "did Grandfather agree?"
Han Tianyi took a slow sip of the tea, staring at the six-year-old before him. "Your mind is terrifyingly meticulous, Zhangting."
The boy didn't flinch.
"The Tower Master's office is a fortress," Han Tianyi continued. "Even a grandson shouldn't have the right to enter and exit at will. You calculated his habits, the patterns of the staff, and the exact timing of my visit. You knew that when I spoke of the Body Sect, that proposal would be the first thing his hand touched. You planned this 'chance encounter' before you even took me as your teacher."
Zhangting's face broke into a thin, dangerous smile. "Teacher, we've known each other for years. You know my principle: I don't act unless the outcome is already decided. I needed someone with high prestige and thick virtue to move my stubborn grandfather. Who else but you?"
Han Tianyi let out a long, weary sigh. "Zhangting, your scheming is too heavy, your talent is too strong, and your luck is too good. You are seizing the secrets of heaven at an age when most children are learning to read. I don't know if you will be our family's blessing or its ultimate curse."
Zhangting remained indifferent. Fear divine retribution? he thought. The Tang family has ruled this continent for twenty thousand years through plot armor and divine favoritism. If they can survive, so can I.
"Teacher," Zhangting said, changing the subject with the grace of a seasoned politician. "Since we are going to negotiate with the Body Sect, Grandfather must have given you the resource dispatch authority for the Treasury, right? You are a man of high status; let your disciple handle the tedious task of organizing the supplies."
As he reached for the authorization seal, Han Tianyi didn't resist. He watched the boy dash away toward the Treasury, his heart heavy with a mix of pride and dread.
The Vault of the Tallest Tower
The Spirit Pagoda Headquarters was a titan of architecture—eighty-one floors of glass and reinforced steel, piercing several hundred meters into the clouds. It was the tallest building on the continent, a labyrinthine monument to human progress and spiritual power.
Zhangting moved through the halls with purpose. He wasn't just here to pick up "supplies." He was here to claim the foundation of his future power. As he reached the high-security floor of the Spirit Treasury, the heavy doors hummed open.
Inside, he bypassed rows of thousand-year spirit bones and rare ores, heading toward a containment unit of soul-glass. There, pulsing with a frozen, divine light, sat the Ice God Pearl.
This wasn't a mere soul tool; it was a Divine Artifact. To the Body Sect, this would be a legendary bribe. But to Zhangting, it was the key to surviving the brutal "Body Refining" process. With the Ice God Pearl, he could keep his mind in a state of "Absolute Zero" clarity, preventing his soul from collapsing even if his body was broken and reforged a thousand times.
"Too much talent, too much luck," Zhangting whispered, echoing his teacher's words as he claimed the artifact.
His eyes flashed with a cold, predatory light. "The world thinks I'm a clown. Let them. By the time they realize I'm the one holding the script, the stage will already be on fire."
With the Ice God Pearl secured and the Body Sect's chariot waiting, the first phase of the Illusionary Knight's ascension was complete.