Chapter 300: Devious
Every Elder in the room straightened their posture.
Bai Yunfei took his seat at the head of the obsidian table.
He did not look like a tyrant, but the effortless gravity of his presence demanded absolute obedience.
"Elders. Sovereigns," the Sect Leader began, his rich, melodic voice filling the chamber. He poured himself a cup of tea, waving off the attending servants. "I apologize for detaining you. But the impending Official Sect Martial Ranking requires... a recalibration of our traditional methods."
A murmur of surprise rippled around the table.
"A recalibration, Sect Leader?" Elder Hua inquired, her cherry-blossom hair tilting slightly. "The tournament format has remained unchanged for three centuries. The preliminary hunts, followed by the Grand Arena duels. It is a tested, proven crucible."
Bai Yunfei sighed, a soft, incredibly majestic sound that somehow conveyed boredom.
"It is tested. It is proven. And it is, quite frankly, entirely stale," the Sect Leader stated, leaning back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together. "We are the celestial vanguard of the orthodox world. Yet, every five years, we subject our disciples to the same predictable obstacles. They study the records of previous tournaments. They know the spawn locations of the array-beasts. They know the exact dimensions of the arena. It is no longer a test of adaptability; it is more like a test of rote memorization."
He swept his dark, intelligent eyes across the room.
"Furthermore," Bai Yunfei added, his tone sharpening, "as you are all aware, tomorrow we welcome the delegations from the Crimson Blade Sect, the Azure Lotus Pavilion, and several foreign contingents for a ’Friendly Diplomatic Exhibition Match’ preceding the main tournament. The continent is watching us. If we present them with a tired, predictable spectacle, we project stagnation. I wish to change the course of this test. I want the Shattered Realm survival phase to be entirely unprecedented. I want chaos. I want a surprise!"
The Sect Leader smiled, a polite expression that held no room for negotiation. "I open the floor to your opinions."
Instantly, the executive sanctum devolved into a hostile, Xianxia-style parliamentary debate.
The room was cleanly fractured into two vehemently opposed factions.
"Sect Leader, with all due respect, this is a terrible idea!" barked Elder Tie of the Forge Peak, his majestic beard bristling. "The foreign sects are arriving tomorrow! If we radically alter the parameters of the survival dimension at the eleventh hour, they will accuse us of foul play! They will claim we changed the rules to disadvantage their visiting disciples specifically!"
"Let them claim what they will!" countered a progressive Elder from the Array Peak, slamming a jade ruler on the table. "This is our mountain! If their disciples cannot adapt to a shifting battlefield, they have no business participating in a celestial tournament! The Sect Leader is correct! The current format breeds complacency!"
"Complacency is a symptom of weak teaching, not a weak tournament!"
"Are you insulting my disciples, you hammer-swinging brute?!"
Ji’an sat quietly between the arguing immortals, munching on her roasted peanuts.
She watched the ancient, supremely powerful beings bicker with the same petty, aggressive energy as middle-management department heads arguing over parking spaces.
It was both deeply demystifying and highly entertaining.
As a transmigrator who had consumed an ungodly amount of web novels, anime, and video games in her past life, Ji’an’s brain was an absolute goldmine for tournament arcs.
She knew exactly what made a survival game exciting.
She knew the tropes.
She knew the mechanics of a perfect Battle Royale.
’They want chaos? They want unpredictability?’ Ji’an’s inner designer mused, chewing a peanut thoughtfully. ’Drop a shrinking toxic dome into the dimension to force players to the center. Randomize the loot drops so the rich kids can’t rely on their daddy’s artifacts. Introduce environmental hazards that trigger based on player density to prevent camping. It’s not rocket science; it’s basic esports mechanics.’
She had a dozen flawless, highly entertaining, and deeply sadistic ideas ready to go.
But she also knew her place.
She was a sixteen-year-old cook sitting at a table of demi-gods.
If she spoke up out of turn, the conservative elders would verbally eviscerate her for insubordination.
So, she kept her mouth shut, popped another peanut, and enjoyed the show.
Unfortunately, her Master was an agent of pure, unadulterated chaos.
Sect Leader Bai Yunfei, watching the argument devolve into insults about whose peak smelled worse, raised a hand, instantly silencing the room once more.
His dark eyes drifted across the table, finally landing on the only two individuals who hadn’t spoken a single word.
"Elder Jiu," the Sect Leader prompted, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips. "You and your apprentice have been remarkably silent, merely enjoying the tea and the spectacle. As the Sovereign of the Drunken Peak, what are your thoughts on escalating the difficulty of the Shattered Realm?"
Master Jiu Zui, who had been resting his chin on his hand with his eyes half-closed, let out a long, lazy yawn.
"I agree with you, Sect Leader," Jiu Zui slurred slightly, taking a sip of wine. "The tournament is boring. Watching teenagers punch each other in predictable patterns puts me to sleep faster than low-grade rice wine."
The opposing elders bristled at the insult, but Jiu Zui ignored them, lazily waving his hand toward the teenager sitting next to him.
"However, if you are looking for fresh, devious, utterly unhinged ideas to torture the younger generation..." Jiu Zui grinned, a wicked, extremely proud glint in his eye. "You should ask my apprentice. The boy’s brain is a labyrinth of chaotic, deeply manipulative garbage. He practically invented the concept of unfair advantages."
Ji’an choked on her peanut.
She hacked violently into her sleeve, her silver-flecked eyes widening in absolute betrayal.
She glared at Jiu Zui, mentally screaming, ’Did you just throw me under the executive bus?! I bought you premium wine, you traitorous old man!’
Every single powerful eye at the obsidian table turned to lock onto Lin Ji’an.
The silence was deafening.
