Chapter 159: A Friendly Spar [5]

"You lost, Young Master Wu," Shen Yu said softly, his golden eyes completely tranquil, his breathing as steady as if he had merely been reciting poetry.

For a second, the entire pavilion held its breath, staring at the absolute dominance of the Golden Paragon.

Then, in a flash, the chilling martial pressure vanished. The terrifying grandmaster retreated back into the abyss, and the benevolent, holy savior returned. Shen Yu pulled his hand back, his face instantly softening into a warm, deeply respectful, and magnanimous smile.

With a display of unmatched nobility and righteous grace, Shen Yu bent down and extended his open, pristine hand to help the defeated young lord off the ruined floor.

"Thank you for the profound spar, Young Master Wu," Shen Yu said warmly, his voice dripping with humility as he looked down at the shivering, broken youth.

"Your Iron Mountain Fist is truly fearsome. I have learned an immense amount from your guidance tonight."

Junjie stared at the extended hand before him, his face contorting into a mask of pure, humiliated rage.

He didn’t take it.

Instead, he slapped Shen Yu’s palm away with a pathetic, weak swing, pushing himself up from the ruined marble by his own strength.

Coughing a faint splatter of blood, the imperial scion huffed in deep, bitter silence.

Completely refusing to acknowledge his utter defeat, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the pavilion, his heavy boots dragging heavily against the stone.

Ding!

The crisp, mechanical notification chime of a quest completion echoed sharply in the depths of Shen Yu’s mind. He casually ignored it, tossing the prompt into the back of his thoughts to be thoroughly reviewed later.

Shen Yu quietly watched the young lord’s retreating back, his benevolent smile never wavering for the public to see. Inwardly, however, his smirk was razor-sharp and entirely merciless.

’Perhaps you won’t make the same foolish mistake in your next life,’ Shen Yu thought, his demonic consciousness coldly evaluating the damage he had just inflicted.

’You should have used your brain rather than your dick to choose your battles. Now, you’ll lose the use of both.’

The moment Junjie’s shadow completely vanished from the entrance, the suffocating silence in the hall finally fractured, but no one dared to cheer out loud.

Instead, the pavilion erupted into a flurry of frantic, hushed whispers.

The guests leaned in close to one another, their heads pressed together as they cast anxious, furtive glances toward the head of the table where City Lord Wu Shan sat, frozen like a statue of ice.

"Incredible... absolutely historic," a middle-aged patriarch hissed in a strained whisper to his neighbor, keeping his eyes downcast.

"The Golden Paragon... he is merely at the 9th Stage of Qi Condensation. To completely dismantle Young Master Wu, a genius who has already reached the 3rd Stage of Foundation Establishment, the very peak of the early realm, is utterly unprecedented."

"Did you see how the battle shifted?" a matriarch from a neighboring merchant clan breathed, her voice barely a murmur as she shielded her lips with a silk sleeve.

"At first, Young Master Tang was merely playing along, casually entertaining Young Master Wu’s wild strikes with supreme grace. He was holding back immensely so as not to embarrass the City Lord’s estate."

"Indeed, but the moment that arrogant pup dared to insult his esteemed Master, the Paragon’s righteous fury was awakened," an elder from a minor sect added in a low, trembling tone, nodding furiously.

"The way he moved to defend his master’s honor... it was a masterclass in filial piety. He completely broke the young lord’s momentum in a single breath."

The frantic, quiet murmurs swelled through the room like the rustling of dry leaves. What resonated most with the terrified yet awestruck elites was the profound mercy the young prodigy had supposedly displayed right under his father’s nose.

"What moves my heart the most is his pure, unadulterated benevolence," another guest whispered in awe, stealing a glance at Wu Shan’s dark, rigid expression. "Even after being pushed to aggression by those vile insults, the Golden Paragon true to his name used entirely non-lethal moves. Not a single bone was shattered, no blood was ruthlessly spilled, and he even offered a hand to help his opponent up. He is a true saint of the righteous path, a cultivator who values peace over slaughter."

Listening to the endless, sycophantic praise being whispered in fearful undertones, Shen Yu felt a profound sense of amusement.

The naive fools were practically rewriting his execution of a slow-acting poison as an act of holy mercy, too terrified of the City Lord to speak aloud, yet too stunned by Shen Yu’s power to remain silent.

He looked over the crowd with a gentle, benevolent smile before turning his gaze toward the Tang table.

His eyes locked onto Lixue, his expression softening into a hidden, intensely possessive gaze that sent an immediate shockwave of heat straight to her core.

A heavy, slick warmth pooled between her thighs as she sat rigidly under his stare.

The raw display of his dominance, combined with the dangerous, protective edge he had just shown on her behalf, made her ache with a sudden, overwhelming need to feel his immense size stretching her body right then and there.

His gaze slithered smoothly from Lixue to his other women, Yilan, Meng Yan, and Xu Yi.

The silent promise in his golden eyes was absolute: If anyone dares look at any of you with that same lecherous intent, I will dismantle them just the same.

The collective effect was intoxicating.

Meng Yan’s breath hitched as a sharp, pulsing throb flared in her lower abdomen, her mind instantly flooded with vivid, carnal images of grinding against him until she couldn’t breathe.

Beside her, Xu Yi bit her lip to stifle a soft gasp, her own pussy tightening with a desperate, clenching desire for his heavy thrusts.

Even the normally stoic Yilan felt a deep, liquid fire ignite within her, her fingers curling tightly into her robes as her core throbbed in response to his absolute authority.

Past them, his eyes briefly swept over Li Qiu. She was looking up at him with a gaze of pure, untainted devotion, her heart swelling with reverence for what she truly believed was a flawlessly righteous master defending his clan and his honor.

Finally, his gaze landed on He Lan. Seated nearby, the young woman was blushing so violently her face rivaled a ripe tomato. Seeing the Golden Paragon control the entire room in real life was lightyears beyond any rumor she had ever chased.

When Shen Yu offered her a brief, gentle smile, her heart skipped a beat, and a sudden, involuntary throb echoed deep between her thighs, leaving her completely breathless and desperate for his attention.

Having subtly marked his territory and set his women’s blood on fire, Shen Yu quietly turned his gaze back to the head of the table.

His holy veneer was perfectly back in place, cool and untouched, as he waited for the City Lord to pay up the debt of his son’s arrogance.