Chapter Fifty-Nine: A Blockbuster Special Effects Film

“Uncle Zhou, could you send someone to protect Tianling? Haotian Sect has a history, and I’m worried something might happen!” Zhou Tian watched the fading glow of the teleportation array and turned to Uncle Zhou beside him.

“Well... dispatching a Saint King would be a bit troublesome, but if it’s just a Saint, their strength might not be enough.” Uncle Zhou pondered for a moment, then a violet silhouette stepped out from his body. “This is my spirit form, which holds half my strength. I don’t need it for now, so I’ll let it accompany them.”

“That’s perfect,” Zhou Tian replied with a smile. Half the power of a Great Emperor was more than enough.

The violet shadow stepped onto the array. The formation lit up again, dense and intricate runes swirling about. The spatial channel opened, and the shadow vanished, already transported away.

“Young Master, the Lord wants you to see him again today,” Uncle Zhou said after the shadow disappeared.

“Again?” Zhou Tian sighed helplessly. Ever since that day when he had forced Scholar Li to kneel before him in the arena, his father had been strutting arrogantly through the imperial capital, as if he owned the place. He’d summoned Zhou Tian several times, always curious about the divine art Zhou Tian had used, but Zhou Tian had managed to deflect him each time. Now, just hearing that Zhou Yi was looking for him made his nerves twitch.

“It seems there’s a different matter today,” Uncle Zhou added with a smile. The father and son were truly a comic pair. He too was curious how Zhou Tian had made Li Lingyi kneel that day. Being closest to Zhou Tian, he’d felt it most intensely—there was no fluctuation of spiritual energy, no sign of any law at work. Were it not for Li Lingyi’s status at the Great Luo Academy, he’d have thought the whole thing staged.

“Let’s go, let’s go...” Zhou Tian sighed. You can dodge the first day, but not the fifteenth. He might as well see what his old man wanted.

After weaving through several corridors, Zhou Tian reached Zhou Yi’s study. He pushed open the door to find Zhou Yi already seated behind his desk.

Zhou Tian slouched into a chair, sprawling as he asked, “What is it this time? If you’re just going to ask how I made that old man kneel, I’ve told you before: mind over matter. If I can do it, so can you.”

Veins bulged on Zhou Yi’s forehead. “Mind over matter, my foot!” he retorted, suppressing his annoyance. “The Elite Tournament is this afternoon. Get ready and come with me to watch at the palace.”

“What? The regular matches are over already?”

Zhou Tian’s surprise was genuine. Because he’d interfered in the match that day, Tianling had forfeited her qualification, so he hadn’t kept track. No wonder he hadn’t seen Zhou Zui, Liu Yan, and the others lately—they’d all been busy preparing for the tournament.

“They finished yesterday! What have you been doing these last few days?” Zhou Yi demanded, brows twitching.

Yesterday... Zhou Tian thought back: with Tianling in the garden. The day before... with Tianling in the pavilion. The day before that, with Tian...

“So who’s the champion?” He shook his head, banishing those images from his mind.

“I... don’t know either...” Zhou Yi admitted, deflated. Aside from Zhou Tian’s incident, he hadn’t paid any attention to this year’s youth tournament—he’d been busy drafting plans to explore the new world and had no time for children’s games.

“Hmph.” Zhou Tian shot a scornful glance at Zhou Yi. And he’d been lecturing him?

“That’s not the point. Just come with me to the palace this afternoon!” Zhou Yi, flustered and vexed, put on his stern fatherly airs.

“The Elite Tournament isn’t open to the public?” Zhou Tian asked. If it was held at the palace, surely the public wasn’t allowed.

“It’s not. There aren’t just people from our Tianqin here—other factions are participating as well,” Zhou Yi replied.

“Can I not go? Watching people fight is so boring...” Zhou Tian groaned.

“No!” Zhou Yi rebuked, exasperated. This son of his truly lacked ambition. He didn’t expect him to soar to the clouds, but he ought to have some drive—couldn’t he at least muster the energy to turn over in bed?

“The Elite Tournament isn’t like the regular matches. From now on, these will be your peers, people with status equal to your own...”

“Fine, fine...” Zhou Tian rubbed his aching temples. He’d go—he’d just treat it as watching a blockbuster.

After this round of banter, it was nearly time. Zhou Yi, always swift and decisive, dragged Zhou Tian straight to the palace.

On the way, Zhou Yi explained the Elite Tournament’s rules: it wasn’t a simple arena match. Instead, the contestants were thrown into a secret realm, forced to battle like insects in a jar until only one victor remained. There was no second or third place—only the survivor. The law of the jungle in its purest form, much like a scaled-down version of the Eight Provinces Grand Tournament.

The venue was a palace hall, but since the matches occurred within the secret realm, it was more of a viewing chamber.

By the time they arrived, the hall was nearly full. The great figures of Tianqin, as well as leaders from other provinces’ factions, were all present. Li Lingyi from the Great Luo Academy was there too, his expression unreadable. So many days had passed since the incident, with all evidence and testimony accounted for, and the main culprit having confessed—there was nothing the Academy could do but swallow the bitter result.

“Prince Qin...” As Zhou Yi and Zhou Tian entered, many approached to greet them.

“Minister Liu...”

“Duke...”

“General Gu...”

“Master Zhikong...”

And so on. Zhou Yi returned each greeting in turn, though most eyes kept flickering toward Zhou Tian. It hadn’t been long since he’d made such a dazzling impression, and the commotion had yet to subside. Everyone was curious about him.

Zhou Tian met the stares of those sharp-eyed elders with calm indifference. Let them look—he wasn’t losing anything. So what if they were all Saint Kings? See that man sitting over there, pretending not to notice me? He’s the one who was kneeling before me just days ago.

After the greetings, Zhou Yi led Zhou Tian to their seats. Only Zhou Tian accompanied his father—everyone else was of Zhou Yi’s generation. The other youths were preparing to enter the secret realm.

Soon, as the last of the guests arrived, a flash of golden light announced the Emperor of Qin, who took his place at the head of the hall. After everyone rose to salute him, he launched into a lengthy speech of empty platitudes.

Zhou Tian didn’t catch a word. He was too busy eyeing the golden, honey-glazed pig’s trotter before him, its translucent skin glistening under the light, sweet honey drizzling over it, the aroma mingling with floral notes. His empty stomach growled loudly.

The snacks were abundant. Nearby was a treat resembling the sunflower seeds of his former life, each seed the size of a thumb, with a shell like polished jade and a misty aura flowing within, the golden kernel faintly visible.

It was the perfect setup for a movie night. Secretly, Zhou Tian gave the emperor a mental thumbs-up—if only the speeches could be shorter, it would be perfect.