"And..."
He cleared his throat.
"His new silver hair is also rather attractive."
He looked toward the window.
"The Chef possesses an impressive presence."
His eyes narrowed.
"He would look excellent in the Wen Consortium’s boardroom."
Shiru immediately picked up his pen.
"I must begin selling some of my overseas assets."
Finally, in the courtyard, Hu Yanlie was sitting in the exact mud puddle where Ji’an had beaten him.
He had refused to wash himself.
The Beast Lord stared at the moon.
His large, scarred chest rose and fell, and his beast-like eyes were filled with determination.
"MATE."
His deep voice shook the windows.
Yanlie did not care about social rules.
He did not care about gender. The beast inside him understood only one thing.
Lin Ji’an was strong.
Fierce.
And terrifying.
She was the strongest creature in the valley.
"The Chef feeds me meat."
Yanlie clenched his fist.
"The Chef beats me into submission."
He struck his fist against his palm.
"The Chef has shiny silver hair."
His eyes became fierce.
"Just like an Alpha."
He nodded.
"He is the ultimate mate."
Yanlie did not want flowers or poetry.
He wanted to prove himself.
"I will go into the deepest and most poisonous chasm of the Eastern Basin."
His muscles tightened.
"I will kill a Demonic Miasma Dragon."
He raised both fists.
"I will tear off its horns."
He growled proudly.
"And I will lay them at his feet."
His eyes shone with determination.
"He will respect my strength."
They all were preparing to launch a coordinated campaign to win the heart of the "Male Bride" of the Drunken Peak.
And none of them had any idea how badly they had misunderstood the situation.
.
.
.
Morning arrived over the Azure Dragon Sect.
Inside her heavily barricaded master suite, Lin Ji’an slept peacefully.
The giant Black Iron Wok was still blocking the door. The defensive wards hummed quietly.
Ji’an dreamed of a beautiful modern bakery.
The ovens were powered by Phoenix Ember. The customers were polite.
Nobody tried to murder anyone over a bread roll.
It was a paradise.
She had absolutely no idea that she was now the target of a four-way romantic assault.
She also had no idea that her Overtime Boss, Yan Zhaoge, was sitting somewhere in the western dunes, designing an array that would force her to cook for him three times a day.
And most dangerously of all...
She had no idea that the Sovereign of the Eternal Cloud Peak had spent most of the night pacing outside her door.
His Absolute Zero aura was carefully suppressed. The blood from his nose had long since frozen.
And his mind was still replaying every detail of the moment he discovered her secret.
***
The heavy, iron-reinforced doors of the Azure Zenith Pavilion’s primary courtyard did not simply open; they were kicked outward with the aggressive, unapologetic force of a transmigrator who had unequivocally run out of patience.
Lin Ji’an strode out into the toxic, hazy morning light of the Eastern Basin.
She was attempting to project the aura of a ruthless, tyrannical, blood-soaked Vanguard Leader.
She had meticulously tightened her heavy red leather, strapped her massive Black Iron Spatula to her calf with militant precision.
She had plastered a look of supreme, nonchalant arrogance across her face, a scowl designed to make grown men weep, and junior disciples flee in terror.
There was only one catastrophic problem.
Thanks to the lingering effects of her Body Fusion heavenly calamity, her ancient disguise artifact was completely failing to suppress her new aesthetic.
The scowl did not make her look terrifying.
It made her look like a devastatingly beautiful, ethereal, silver-haired celestial deity who was mildly, adorably pouting.
The sharp, arrogant tilt of her chin only served to highlight the flawless, luminescent curve of her jawline. Her silver hair, cascading freely down her back, caught the green miasma sunlight and spun it into a literal halo of divine radiance.
She looked like a grumpy angel.
And the male prodigies of the Vanguard Retinue, currently assembled in the mud pits for their morning drills, were hopelessly at her mercy.
As Ji’an’s red boots clicked against the obsidian stone, the entire courtyard fell into a suffocating, paralyzing silence.
The heavy, rhythmic sounds of combat training instantly ceased.
Ji’an stopped at the edge of the elevated viewing platform, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked down at the sweaty, half-naked, heavily muscled prodigies.
They did not cower.
They did not avert their eyes in fear of her spatula.
They stared.
They stared with wide, unblinking, dilated eyes, their jaws unhinged, practically drooling into the toxic sludge.
Gu Zhiwei, the Golden Retriever of the Holy Sect, was currently holding a five-ton boulder above his head.
He was so completely mesmerized by the way the wind caught Ji’an’s silver hair that he forgot to exhale. His golden holy light began to strobe erratically, pulsing in time with his racing, hopelessly smitten heartbeat.
Lu Jianheng, the aristocratic Sword Lord, had been in the middle of demonstrating a complex parry.
Upon seeing her, his icy-blue sword aura sputtered and died.
He stood still, his face flushing a brilliant, violent shade of crimson, entirely unable to look away from the delicate, flawless slope of her neck.
Even Hu Yanlie, the feral Beast Lord who usually communicated exclusively in roars and grunts, let out a soft, high-pitched, incredibly pathetic whimper, his tail literally thumping against the mud like a domesticated puppy waiting for a treat.
Ji’an’s eye twitched.
’They are staring at me,’ Ji’an’s internal monologue shrieked in disgust.
’They are staring at me like I’m a walking piece of high-grade wagyu beef. They know I have a frying pan. They know I can shatter their kneecaps. But they literally do not care. The hormone-poisoning has completely overridden their survival instincts!’
She needed to re-establish dominance.
She needed to remind them that she was their worst nightmare, not their waifu!
"WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT, YOU MISERABLE, SLACK-JAWED PEACOCKS?!"
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