Picking Up Attributes In Martial World

Chapter 212: Ready For Banquet

Ye Jun spent the early hours of the next morning training his Sword Intent once again.

The slender wooden stick cut through the falling snow with increasing ease, the cold air whispering against his bare skin as he worked through his repetitions. His movements were quiet and disciplined, the nascent intent within his soul slowly settling into a far more stable foundation.

After a particularly long sequence of strikes, he lowered the wood, walking over to the stone bench to take a brief break.

Sitting down, he leaned his head back against the white-marble wall, his mind automatically drifting back to the events of yesterday. It had been an exceptionally good day. He had gotten to spend quality, unburdened time with his wives at the Aether Falls, completely stepping away from the chaotic pressure of reality. He had also gotten to test his baseline parameters in a good, honest fight against Yuan Chen.

Then, at night, the atmosphere had shifted into a massive, formal family dinner within the inner chambers of the palace. It was the first time he was properly introduced to the entire extended lineage of the Song Clan.

He had mingled with the core elders and branch leaders for hours, sharing wine, answering curious questions, and listening to their loud, booming laughter. By the time the lanterns were extinguished, he had realized something surprising. He genuinely liked them.

They were completely unlike anything one would typically expect from a supreme, ruling clan of a great empire. At one point during the early courses, watching the branch uncles bicker openly over roasted spiritual meat and share ridiculous childhood stories about Song Liangxue, Ye Jun had honestly wondered if these people were simply gullible. The lack of standard noble posturing was almost jarring.

But as the night progressed and he interacted more deeply with the various elders, he realized that Song Liangxue’s initial assessment of her people was entirely accurate.

None of the people sitting around those heavy family tables were dumb or naive. Quite the opposite. They were incredibly smart, politically astute, and fiercely perceptive.

Ye Jun noticed it first-hand during a brief discussion about the southern border movements. It was just that they kept that sharp, predatory smartness strictly reserved for their enemies. Within the walls of their ancestral home, among their own bloodline, they chose to completely lower their guards.

He had also noticed another bizarre dynamic. The branch leaders were completely open about having ambitions to challenge the main line for the position of Main Clan.

They didn’t whisper their desire in the dark or plot assassinations in the shadows; they literally told Song Yanyan across the dinner table that their young generation would surpass Liangxue during the next ancestral tournament.

And Song Yanyan didn’t mind it at all. She had simply laughed, downed her cup of ale, and told them she would look forward to seeing them try.

Ye Jun found the entire environment weird. He had lived two full lives entirely opposite to this specific dynamic. His past life as an assassin was defined by constant, suffocating paranoia, and his early days in the southern regions were a masterclass in calculating betrayal from his own blood relatives. To see a ruling family operate with such blunt, transparent honesty was refreshing, to say the least.

He realized it was incredibly easy to relax here. You didn’t have to parse through every single syllable for a hidden insult, and you could be completely honest about your intentions. That was truly the best way to live.

But as he watched the soft snow drift across the marble steps, Ye Jun mentally pulled his focus back, reminding himself to not get complacent.

The North might be defined by this straightforward nature, but the entire world certainly wasn’t. The rest of the continent was still a nest of vipers, waiting to exploit any sign of weakness. The Song Clan knew that reality very well. It was a core lesson they systematically drilled into their children from the moment they opened their meridians.

That was the exact balance he was trying to learn from them, to remain completely relaxed and free around the people you trusted, but to keep your survival instincts razor-sharp and cautious against the outside.

That specific caution would actually come in handy very soon.

Forces from all over the world had already successfully gathered within the gates of Everfrost City. Representatives from distant sects, elite merchants, and hidden core disciples from the other six great clans had filled the capital’s high-tier inns to absolute capacity.

All of them had traveled thousands of kilometers for a single reason: to attend the Grand Autumn Banquet hosted by none other than the Song Clan, the sole ruler of the North.

Song Yanyan was fully aware that the international factions were incredibly curious about the sudden appearance of the Nine Purple Tribulations variable. She knew they would try their absolute best to probe him, spy on his powers, or target him through one underhanded method or another.

Instead of letting them hunt for him in the dark, the Matriarch had chosen a bold, offensive strategy. She created an open, controlled opportunity where the world could meet him face-to-face in the safest place possible—under the direct surveillance of her own arrays.

She had deliberately spread the news of his official introduction ceremony herself, actively attracting the hungry eyes of the world into her backyard.

That was also the primary reason why she had traveled disguised as a generic carriage guard during their journey from the chasm. She was ready to protect him herself, serving as an absolute shield while he built up his core foundation.

Ye Jun stood up from the stone bench, brushing the frost from his pants. His morning training session was finished, and the ambient temperature of the capital was beginning to rise as the sun hit the translucent jade roof of the inner palace.

He walked back into the private chambers, heading directly toward the steaming bronze bath area situated at the back of the courtyard.

Under normal palace protocols, a team of specialized core maids was already waiting near the water, prepared to clean him, handle the spiritual oils, and assist the Lord Son-in-law with his morning bath. But before Ye Jun could even unlatch his inner belt, a cold, majestic draft of wind swept through the side corridor.

Song Liangxue stepped into the room, her regal gaze completely icy as she looked at the gathering of young maids. She didn’t say a word, but her arms were crossed, and the faint, oppressive pressure of her innate ice physique subtly rippled through the steam.

The maids instantly turned pale. Recognizing the absolute, possessive territoriality of their princess, they bowed frantically, dropped the silk towels, and scrambled out of the bath chambers as fast as their legs could carry them, completely scaring them away within seconds.

Ye Jun’s lips twitched in amusement as the heavy doors clicked shut. "You know, they were just here to do their jobs, Liangxue."

"I don’t care," Song Liangxue replied smoothly, her cold front melting into a playful, unbothered smile as she walked over to the bronze tub. "My husband doesn’t need external attendants handling his skin."

A soft laugh echoed from the shadow of the partition screen as Meihui stepped forward. She had already dissolved her male illusion for the morning, her true, breathtakingly beautiful face lighting up with quiet warmth as she picked up a vial of premium spirit oil. "She was pacing outside the corridor for twenty minutes, dummy. She practically ran in here the moment she heard the water running."

"You didn’t have to expose me so quickly, sister," Liangxue grumbled, a faint blush staining her cheeks.

The three of them had a bit of fun in the warm, spiritual water, the playful banter and comfortable proximity driving away the last traces of his physical fatigue. Once the bath concluded and his skin was dry, it was time to dress for the main event.

They walked into the primary dressing room where the boutique owner had delivered her finest selections earlier that morning. The fabrics were spectacular, woven from high-tier spiritual silks and lined with the rare, insulating furs of northern tundra beasts.

Ye Jun unrolled the main set chosen for him. It was a structured, deep-indigo robe embroidered with intricate silver frost-glyphs along the lapels, cinched at the waist with a heavy white-gold belt embedded with a protective runic sapphire.

He slipped the heavy garments over his tall, heavily muscular frame, adjusting the broad shoulders. When he finally stepped out into the main light, the transformation was undeniable. He didn’t look like a generic young master from a southern region anymore; he looked like a regal king in the north, his sharp features, broad stature, and absolute confidence perfectly commanding the weight of the dark robes.

Beside him, Song Liangxue had donned her formal ceremonial attire. She wore a sweeping, ice-blue silk gown trimmed with pristine white fox fur, her long hair pinned up with an intricate crown carved from single-source glaciated jade. She looked exceptionally stunning, the absolute epitome of a beautiful princess of the North.

Turning his gaze toward the mirror, Ye Jun smiled as he looked at Meihui.

She had re-applied the artifact’s illusion as the Young Master Rong. She appeared as a sharp, exceptionally handsome youth with soft, aristocratic lines, dressed in high-grade purple and silver scholar robes. Her long hair was tied elegantly behind her back, and she held a premium iron-ribbed hand fan.

She looked exactly like a lofty, prideful young master originating from some hidden, supreme clan of the central continent. She was going to attend the grand banquet as Ye Jun’s close friend, an arrangement she didn’t mind at all since it allowed her to walk freely among the high-tier guests without drawing any unwanted complications for Liangxue.

"You look sharp, Meihui," Ye Jun approved, offering a nod. "The scholar front suits your posture."

Meihui snapped her fan open, a familiar, arrogant tilt returning to her chin as she slipped into the persona. "I merely chose a layout that wouldn’t embarrass my host. Don’t get ahead of yourself, dummy."

By then, the distant, deep resonance of the palace bells began to echo through the mountain paths, signaling that the palace gates had formally opened and the international guests had begun to arrive.

"The lower courtyards are filling up," Song Liangxue spoke up, her regal mask smoothly settling back over her beautiful face as she walked toward the main entrance doors. "Let’s go and have a look before the formal councils begin. I want to see exactly what kind of people we will be dealing with tonight."

Ye Jun’s eyes gleamed with a cold, anticipating light. He adjusted his silver sleeves, stepping beside his wives as they walked out into the grand corridors.

"Lead the way," Ye Jun said, his voice quiet, bold, and entirely unyielding. "Let’s see what the world has brought to our gates."