The morning gong had barely finished echoing when a frantic pounding shook Li Wei's door.
"Venerable Li! A crisis!"
Li Wei groaned into his silk pillow. Three days ago, the only "crisis" that would've warranted waking him was a chamber pot overflow. Now, he was expected to care about sect politics.
The door burst open before he could fake deafness. A junior disciple—wide-eyed and panting—bowed so low his forehead touched the floor.
"Elder Zhu sent me! The Crimson Fang Sect has arrived at our gates!"
Li Wei's stomach dropped. The Crimson Fangs were notorious for two things: their violent expansionism and their habit of skinning messengers who brought bad news.
"Why?" he croaked.
The disciple trembled. "They… they heard rumors of your 'Heavenly Sword Intent' and demand proof. Their patriarch says if you're truly a hidden master, you'll face his trial!"
A notification seared across Li Wei's vision:
**[EMERGENCY QUEST: 'Face the Crimson Fang Patriarch']**
**[Reward: 'Not Getting Skinned Alive']**
**[Failure: Public Flaying + Sect Annihilation]**
Li Wei considered jumping out the window.
---
The sect's main courtyard was a sea of crimson robes and bloodthirsty grins. At their center stood Patriarch Fang—a mountain of muscle with a beard woven from what looked like actual bones. His aura made the air taste like copper.
"So," Fang boomed, "this is the 'legend' who splits boulders with a glance?"
Li Wei's knees threatened mutiny. The System, ever unhelpful, chimed:
**[Host's current survival odds: 7%]**
**[Recommended strategy: Bluff harder than a gambler with borrowed chips.]**
Summoning every ounce of his three-day acting career, Li Wei clasped his hands behind his back. "State your business, little Fang."
The courtyard gasped.
Patriarch Fang's eye twitched. "*Little*—?"
"Time is precious," Li Wei continued, channeling the arrogance of every young master he'd ever scrubbed floors for. "Either attack or kneel. This master grows bored."
A deathly silence fell. Then Fang laughed, the sound like boulders grinding together.
"Very well!" He drew a massive cleaver. "Let's see if your flesh matches your tongue!"
Li Wei barely had time to think *I'm dead* before Fang charged.
Then—glory.
A chicken darted between them.
Not just any chicken: Elder Zhu's prized spiritual fowl, "Golden Claw," which had escaped its coop during the commotion. Fang's cleaver struck the ground where the bird had been, sending up a shower of sparks.
The distraction lasted half a second. It was enough.
Li Wei's flailing hand caught the edge of a nearby banquet table—one laden with ceremonial wine jugs. They toppled in a domino effect, dousing Fang's robes in liquor just as Golden Claw spat an accidental spark from its beak.
**WHOOSH.**
Patriarch Fang became a screaming torch.
The Crimson Fang disciples froze. Li Wei didn't.
"As predicted," he announced loudly. "Your 'Blazing Mountain Cleaver' technique has a fatal flaw—it ignites when exposed to my 'Nine Dragon Vintage' wine."
Fang rolled in the dirt, howling. The System vibrated with joy:
**[IMPROVISED TECHNIQUE CREATED: 'Drunken Chicken Style']**
**[Effect: +200% intimidation when opponents are flammable.]**
By the time the flames were out, Fang's beard was ash and his pride in tatters. His disciples carried him away, casting terrified glances at Li Wei—who stood motionless, arms folded, looking every bit the untouchable master.
Only when the last crimson robe vanished beyond the gates did he exhale.
Behind him, Sect Master Bai whispered, "To defeat a Nascent Soul cultivator without lifting a finger… Venerable Li, you are beyond legend."
Li Wei's smile felt carved from wood. "This was but a trivial test."
**[DAILY REPORT: Host's 'Legendary Status' at 59%]**
**[Remaining Until Demon King Fight: 28 Days]**
**[New Rumor Unlocked: 'Li Wei's Gaze Can Spontaneously Combust Wine']**
As disciples scrambled to document this "new technique," Li Wei retreated to the one place no one would think to look for a living god: the latrines.
There, with his head between his knees, he made a solemn vow:
*If I survive this, I'm burning every damn wine jug in the sect.*
---
That night, a scroll arrived via arrow to Li Wei's windowsill. Unfurling it revealed three words smeared in what smelled like blood:
**"THE DEMON KING KNOWS."**
The System's notification blinked cheerfully:
**[CONGRATS! Host's reputation has reached enemy factions!]**
**[Estimated time until assassination attempt: 12-48 hours.]**
Li Wei stared at the message. Then at the moon. Then at the System's latest suggestion:
**[Pro Tip: Start writing your will. Or a really convincing fake backstory.]**
Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.
Or maybe it was just Sect Master Bai laughing at another of his terrible jokes.
Li Wei couldn't tell anymore.
**--- CHAPTER END ---**