Do Not Insult My Master

The birthday banquet of a wealthy family shattered the comfortable yet impoverished worldview and values.

Drinks were free for all!

Food was unlimited!

And there was an enormous cake in the center!

An Yi stuffed his face gleefully, holding food in one hand while shoveling it in with the other, his cheeks bulging like a chipmunk’s.

Beside him, Shen Muxuan nibbled delicately on a small piece of pastry, her eyes welling up with tears as she muttered under her breath, "An Yi, you jerk! You’re the worst, the worst, the absolute worst!"

Only now did she realize why the usually stingy An Yi had suddenly been so generous, buying her all that braised meat earlier—it was to keep her from eating at the banquet!

Those heavy meat dishes took forever to digest, and now she was so full she could barely move. Every bite felt like a struggle.

Wiping crumbs from his mouth and letting out a satisfied burp, An Yi declared with mock solemnity,

"Stop repeating yourself like a broken record. I did this for your own good. You’re a real goddess in everyone’s eyes—we have to maintain your image in public. Can’t have you eating like a ravenous pig."

"Look at that guy stuffing his face like a pig!"

A slick-haired man whispered to his companion as he passed by An Yi, snickering behind his hand.

An Yi:

"Damn it!"

He threw down his food and was about to throw hands when—

"Don’t you dare insult my master!"

A young man lunged forward, landing a solid punch on the sneering man’s cheek!

The man’s powdered, delicate face stood no chance—his body went flying from the impact.

"Ah! My darling!" His companion cried out in distress, rushing to help the fallen man.

An Yi blinked in surprise at the attacker. "Fang Jueming?"

The clean-cut youth, dressed in martial arts attire with his fists wrapped in bandages, was none other than Fang Jueming!

"Master!"

Fang Jueming bowed respectfully to An Yi in the traditional disciple’s salute.

Ding!

[Potential] Chosen One [Fang Jueming] detected. Host, will you recruit him to your faction?

The Rogue System promptly flashed another message.

An Yi hastily tapped No.

No way! He’s not fully cultivated yet—way too early to accept him as a disciple!

Fang Jueming’s "Chosen One" value was currently at 90.

According to the system’s standards, it needed to hit 100 to qualify as a true Chosen One. He was still missing that final spark!

"Master’s wife!"

Fang Jueming then turned and bowed politely to Shen Muxuan.

Shen Muxuan waved her hands frantically. "N-no! You’ve got it all wrong!"

"You little brat! How dare you hit Brother Cheng!"

The handsome companion roared, his face twisted in fury. "Do you have a death wish? I’ll make sure you never leave this villa alive!"

"Try it."

A deep, icy voice cut through the tension. A tall, stern-faced middle-aged man in a martial arts uniform strode into the villa, his gaze freezing the angry man in place.

The moment the man recognized him, his face paled. Even the groaning Brother Cheng in his arms turned green.

"Wu Tong—the ‘Axe Fist’!"

They wouldn’t dare challenge one of Jiangbei City’s top martial artists even if they had a hundred lives to spare!

"Let’s go!"

The two scrambled away, tails between their legs.

"Grandmaster!"

Fang Jueming greeted Wu Tong with reverence.

Wu Tong gave a slight nod, then frowned at An Yi, skepticism written all over his face. "You’re Xiao Ming’s master?"

He had high hopes for Fang Jueming, even considering him as his successor. But the boy kept insisting he already had a master, which had always irked him.

Wu Tong had imagined Fang Jueming’s master to be some reclusive old master.

Yet here was this kid—probably not even twenty! Most of his own disciples were older than him.

An Yi waved his hands dismissively. "Nah, he’s the one who keeps begging to be my disciple. I haven’t agreed yet."

Wu Tong: "..."

An Yi studied the middle-aged man’s stiff expression, wondering why his face looked like it was spasming.

Can a poker face even cramp up?

Wu Tong took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. If Fang Jueming was this determined to apprentice under this kid, there had to be something special about him.

Time to test him.

A powerful aura gathered around Wu Tong’s fists. Known for his iron grip—capable of bending steel and crushing bones—he extended a hand toward An Yi.

"Pleasure to meet you."

Beside them, Shen Muxuan’s eyes widened slightly.

She sensed danger.

But she kept quiet.

An Yi, fully aware this stoic man was someone important, enthusiastically shook his hand with both of his own. "Nice to meet you too! You’re that one guy, right? Heard so much about you!"

Wu Tong’s face twitched.

The kid’s hands were smeared with cake frosting.

Greasy. Sticky. Disgusting.

Any thought of testing An Yi vanished as Wu Tong’s expression darkened. He just wanted a towel.

Wu Shuangshuang, arriving late, gasped at the scene.

Her father had severe germaphobia.

"Truly, heroes emerge from the young," Wu Tong muttered dryly, discreetly wiping his hand on a napkin handed by a server.

An Yi’s eyes lit up at the tray of drinks nearby. "What’s this?"

The server smiled politely. "Sir, this is Château Purls’ Lafite wine."

"How much for a bottle?" An Yi asked doubtfully.

The waiter's lips twitched as he replied politely, "Around eight thousand yuan per bottle."

Before he could finish speaking, An Yi had already grabbed the bottle and gulped it down in one go.

After finishing the entire bottle, he smacked his lips and said, "Tastes awful!"

"Is this how weird the lives of the rich are?"

The waiter:

Qiu Xu and Gu Hongyun clearly witnessed this scene.

At that moment, Gu Hongyun's arm began to tremble.

Qiu Xu couldn't help but ask, "Brother Gu, what's wrong?"

Sweat beaded on Gu Hongyun's forehead as he struggled to say, "I don’t know why, but the moment I see that country bumpkin, I can’t control myself. I just feel like I should step up and mock him right to his face!"

Qiu Xu paled and urged, "Hold back! You’ll get yourself killed!"

Shen Muxuan noticed that the pretty little girl next to Fang Jueming had been glaring at her angrily the whole time, pouting like an upset kitten. She couldn’t help but feel curious.

Had she somehow offended her?

"Jueming, who is this sister? She’s so beautiful," Wu Shuangshuang whispered, tugging at Fang Jueming’s sleeve with a hint of jealousy.

Though she was quite pretty herself, at fifteen or sixteen, she was still a bit too young and unpolished. Compared to Shen Muxuan, the difference was obvious.

"I’m his martial aunt!" Shen Muxuan blinked at Wu Shuangshuang and said seriously.

Hearing this, Wu Shuangshuang immediately brightened up, stepping forward to loop her arm through Shen Muxuan’s. "Hello, sister! What should I call you?"

8:00 PM.

The birthday banquet was about to begin.

The music from the villa’s band came to an abrupt stop.

Countless eyes turned toward the staircase in the grand hall.

They knew—the star of the evening was about to make her entrance.

A delicate, strapless evening gown hugged her graceful silhouette, accentuating Qin Yao’s already slender and alluring figure, making her curves even more striking and mesmerizing.

Her stunning face, adorned with only light makeup, was breathtakingly beautiful, so much so that it left everyone momentarily speechless. For a moment, the entire hall seemed to glow brighter.