Wu Tan City.
Xiao Family.
"Master Zhou has gotten married again—again and again!"
"Pei Nanwei, Nangong Pushe, Xu Zhihu, Xu Weixiong, Yu Youwei, Hongshu, Qingniao, Jiang Ni, Nangua, Lu Yi—are these the so-called Dou Saint experts?"
"Dou Saint experts—truly fearsome!"
Xiao Yan looked at the invitation delivered to the Xiao family, a pang of envy stirring in his heart.
At the previous wedding, Xiao Zhan had received medicinal pills as a return gift from Zhou Yi. Naturally, Xiao Yan had also gotten a share. With the help of those pills, he had finally ascended to the seventh level of Dou Disciple.
Yet when he thought of the Dou Saint experts, the path ahead seemed long and remote—perhaps even a lifetime away. The Dou Qi Continent was vast, but those who could attain the status of Dou Saint expert were exceedingly rare.
At that moment, the entire Xiao family was jubilant. Zhou Yi had married once more, and Xiao Zhan and the others were busily purchasing spirit herbs as congratulatory gifts, certain that Zhou Yi's return gift of pills would be a boon.
For them, receiving pills was a guaranteed profit—alchemists were scarce, and it was difficult to find one to concoct pills for them. Buying pills outright was prohibitively expensive. In effect, Zhou Yi's return gift offered them a pathway to transform spirit herbs into valuable pills.
It wasn't just the Xiao family. The entire Jia Ma Empire—and indeed, all the major powers in the surrounding regions—were fervently preparing congratulatory gifts.
Throughout the northwest, a scene of bustling prosperity prevailed. With trends like these, it was easy to foresee that in just a few years the overall strength of the northwest region would rise dramatically.
Outside the excitement, the outside world had little effect on Zhou Yi. He awoke from a deep, sound sleep, feeling refreshed—but with an odd heaviness upon his chest, as if a large stone were pressing down, making it hard to breathe.
Looking down, he discovered the familiar sight of Yu Youwei: her features as exquisite as a painted portrait, exuding the gentle elegance of orchids, she lay fast asleep upon his chest.
Cradling his beloved, Zhou Yi's eyes grew distant in reminiscence. Just last night, he had been enraptured by Yu Youwei's performance of the Xichu Sword Dance. It had been truly awe-inspiring.
In Xichu, with a maiden like Yu Youwei, one dance with sword and weapon could stir the world—onlookers felt as if even the mountains bowed their heads, and the heavens themselves seemed to hush in reverence.
After Yu Youwei's performance, Zhou Yi had stepped forward to display his own artistry, playing a soulful tune on the pipa for her.
With long, graceful fingers and unsurpassed skill, he plucked the strings; in just a few notes, even before a full melody emerged, emotion was palpable. The deep strings roared like a torrential rain, while the higher strings whispered like intimate confidences.
Yu Youwei's face lit up with astonishment. Never had she imagined that Zhou Yi's prowess with the pipa could be so profound—even as the renowned beauty of the Zijin Tower, she found herself in humble admiration.
The emotions interwoven within each note sent shivers through her delicate frame, drawing forth tears in a moment of overwhelming sentiment.
Every note that danced from Zhou Yi's fingertips seemed imbued with a magic that touched the very soft core of her heart, resonating deeply with her soul.
It was as if the night itself declared:
"Tonight, to hear your pipa speak is to listen to celestial music, as if the ear were briefly enlightened by the voices of immortals.
Among all gathered, who sheds the most tears? Even Zhou Yi's blue robe is soaked with emotion."
Yu Youwei's tears, stirred by the pipa's lament, had even dampened Zhou Yi's clothes.
"High mountains and flowing water seek out their kindred spirit," Zhou Yi murmured as he gazed at Yu Youwei and sighed softly.
But since his fair lady slept soundly, he thought it best not to disturb her. Instead, his eyes fell upon her reward—one he had initially overlooked until it suddenly caught his attention.
[Reward: Yin-Yang Creation Technique]
Yin-Yang Creation Technique: Seize the transformations of yin and yang, harness the marvels of creation; only when yin and yang are in harmony can the true Way be forged.
"What a peerless divine technique!"
"Indeed, indeed!"
Zhou Yi's eyes shone with delight.
This dual-cultivation divine technique was perfectly suited for the likes of Yu Youwei, Pei Nanwei, Nangong Pushe, and the other women.
With Zhou Yi as their experienced guide, their cultivation would progress by leaps and bounds—not only closing the gap with him but perhaps drawing ever nearer to his level.
"No wonder they call you 'Milk Armor'—with your own power, you've nurtured all your dear sisters!"
In high spirits, Zhou Yi stole one last glance at the still-sleeping Yu Youwei before quietly extricating himself. He planned to impart this divine technique to others.
By midday, Yu Youwei slowly awakened, only to find that Zhou Yi had long since vanished. Her eyes dimmed slightly, and as she peered out at the bright sky, she realized that Zhou Yi would never stay by her side until noon.
"Meow!"
A plump, orange cat named Wu Meiniang leapt from the bedside into Yu Youwei's arms.
"Meiniang!"
Yu Youwei gently rubbed the cat, her mood lightening. This cat had been her constant companion for so long—it was as dear as family.
From the Snow World to the Doupo World, the cat had always been by her side. Even though Wu Meiniang's little paw had landed on her chest and caused a twinge of pain, Yu Youwei couldn't help but give the cat a few extra affectionate strokes.
"Meow!"
Wu Meiniang widened her eyes, staring up at Yu Youwei.
Meanwhile, as Yu Youwei was tending to her cat, Zhou Yi was in the rear garden engaged in a game of chess with Xu Weixiong.
Xu Weixiong was the second elder sister of Xu Fengnian, the top commentator on the Yan Zhi Rankings and a talent renowned throughout the lands.
Her skill in playing chess with nineteen pieces was unrivaled, earning her the moniker "Xu Ten, and the Thirteen"—a reference both to her status as a tenth-level master beyond the ninth tier and to her ability to produce moves so brilliant they might be considered of a thirteenth caliber.
Educated at the prestigious Shangyin Academy, her swordsmanship and stratagems were equally formidable.
Yet before Zhou Yi, the techniques in which she so proudly excelled were effortlessly outmatched. Zhou Yi had received countless rewards—many of which did not directly enhance his strength.
Whether it was in music, chess, calligraphy, painting, astronomy, geography, or even the art of war, his mastery had reached an almost transcendent level.
His mind operated with a speed that left Xu Weixiong in the dust. Were she ever to triumph over him in chess, it would be nothing short of miraculous.
Clack!
A chess piece fell, and Zhou Yi cast a teasing glance at Xu Weixiong:
"You've lost!"
"Let's play another!" Xu Weixiong retorted, unwilling to concede.
"Another round is fine—but first, let's settle the bet!"
Zhou Yi's gaze roved over Xu Weixiong; her long robe had long since vanished. Indeed, her bet was that upon losing, she would remove an article of clothing.
In contrast, Zhou Yi's wager was that if she won, he would grant her any favor within his power—even promising not to lay a hand on her or her sister!
Xu Weixiong had been brimming with confidence—but now…
"I…"
She hesitated as she surveyed the meager remnant of clothing clinging to her form.
Though Zhou Yi's inner courtyard was free of other men, the thought of baring herself before him filled her with unease.
"Young master, may I settle the bet on behalf of my sister?"
Xu Zhihu, clad in a flowing crimson gown that exuded mature, breathtaking beauty, interjected.
Truly, she was the famed Red-Clothed Beauty—a woman so stunning that even Lü Zu would wait three lifetimes for her.
Xu Zhihu's approach was far bolder than Xu Weixiong's; after all, she was a widow.
Yet Xu Zhihu remained untouched, her previous husbands having scarcely set foot through the door before meeting their untimely fate.
For a woman of Lü Zu's renowned red-clothed grace, no ordinary mortal could dare lay a hand on her—and only Zhou Yi's overwhelming power could allow such a situation without invoking Lu Zu's wrath.
Zhou Yi's eyes shifted to Xu Zhihu as he appraised her and mused, "If you want to settle the bet for 'Dumb Bear,' then it'll have to be doubled!"
Xu Weixiong snapped, "You're the real Dumb Bear! Your whole family is full of Dumb Bears!"
"Very well!"
Without a moment's hesitation, Xu Zhihu agreed—even though aside from her scant garment, she had only two pieces of clothing on.
"Still daring to come back?" Zhou Yi teased Xu Weixiong.
Xu Zhihu watched silently; she knew full well that Xu Weixiong could never defeat Zhou Yi. Zhou Yi would not let them off lightly—but she did nothing to object.
After all, the outcome was inevitable. And if Xu Weixiong ever did win? At worst, nothing disastrous would occur; as they say, one who is bare-footed has no fear of stepping into shoes.
"Come on!"
Xu Weixiong gritted her teeth, determined not to yield. As time passed, beads of cold sweat formed along her smooth, pale forehead. Her jade-like hand clutched a chess piece, hesitating to move as she sensed defeat drawing near.
"What's the matter? Planning to stall?" Zhou Yi teased with a smile.
"Hmph!" Xu Weixiong snorted and finally placed her piece with a decisive clack.
Snap.
With Zhou Yi's counter-move, the tide of the game shifted dramatically. Xu Weixiong's face turned ashen. She had lost—again and again.
"Now, please begin your performance!" Zhou Yi declared, his eyes gleaming. He then turned to Xu Zhihu, "If you wish to settle the bet for Dumb Bear, it'll be for two articles of clothing!"
"I'll do it myself!" Xu Weixiong growled fiercely. Raising her delicate hand, she tugged forcefully.
"That's enough!"
Glowering at Zhou Yi, Xu Weixiong snatched up her garment and dashed back to her room.
Zhou Yi shook his head and rose gracefully, scooping Xu Zhihu into a princess carry.
"What are you doing?" Xu Zhihu exclaimed in surprise. Though she had steeled herself for this moment, she still felt a twinge of reluctance.
"Madam, perform well!"
Leaning close to Xu Zhihu's ear and inhaling the subtle fragrance of her skin, Zhou Yi whispered,
"You wouldn't want anything to happen to Xu Fengnian, would you?"
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