"And this must be the famous Vanguard I’ve heard so much about," Zhu Yan said, his voice dripping with false politeness. "The one who tad an Ice Phoenix and douses himself in cold flas. Tell , do you need all that just to stay warm up here?"
He took a single step forward, and the heat spiked again.
This ti, it was focused. A concentrated beam of oppressive, scorching spiritual pressure aid directly at Lin Tian’s table. The silver tablecloth in front of Lin Tian began to smolder at the edges. The wine in his cup started to steam.
All around them, the Azure Snow disciples gasped and swayed. They were drowning in the heat, their own icy cultivation struggling against the foreign Yang invasion. Their eyes, wide and desperate, flickered from the arrogant Crimson Sun Young Master to the calm figure standing at their head.
They were looking to their Vanguard.
The wave of focused heat hit Lin Tian like a desert wind, scorching the air in his lungs and making the silver tablecloth curl and blacken at the edges.
He didn’t flinch.
He lifted his cup, the wine inside bubbling and steaming, and took a slow, deliberate sip. It was hot, almost unpleasantly so, but he swallowed it anyway. He placed the cup back on the table with a soft click.
Like a child throwing a tantrum, he thought, his internal voice flat. All that power, and he uses it to warm my drink.
Across the hall, Zhu Yan’s grin faltered for a second. He’d expected a reaction—a flaring of aura, a counterattack, a flinch, anything. Lin Tian gave him nothing but the bored attention of a man watching a mildly interesting insect.
Su Lan, Lin Tian pulsed through their bond, the thought a quiet ripple in the shared space between their spirits. He’s putting on a show. Would you mind handling the lighting?
A warm, amused flicker answered him. His fire is crude, she thought back. All blaze, no control. It’s giving a headache.
Then turn down the thermostat.
Su Lan, who had been standing a half-step behind and to Lin Tian’s right, moved.
She didn’t step in front of him. She didn’t adopt a combat stance. She simply took one graceful step forward, coming to stand beside his chair, and smiled. It was a physician’s smile, gentle and kind, utterly disarming.
"Young Master Zhu," she said, her voice carrying a pleasant, lodic warmth. "That’s quite a... spirited aura you have. The hall was feeling a bit chilly, though. Thank you for the consideration."
Zhu Yan blinked, his confidence cracking into confusion. "What?"
Su Lan raised her left hand, palm open, as if feeling for rain.
The oppressive, desiccating heat that was crushing the Azure Snow disciples and warping the air suddenly... shifted.
It didn’t vanish in a clash of elents. It didn’t recoil. It flowed.
Like water finding a new course, the torrent of scorching Yang energy streaming from Zhu Yan changed direction. It stread toward Su Lan’s open palm, not as an attack, but as a river drawn to the sea. The visible distortion in the air straightened into gentle, shimring lines that converged on her fingertips.
The smoldering edge of the tablecloth went out. The steam rising from Lin Tian’s cup dissipated. The suffocating pressure lifted, replaced by a soft, comfortable warmth that spread through the hall like a spring morning.
Su Lan closed her fingers gently, as if catching a butterfly.
The last of the violent heat vanished. She brought her closed hand to her chest, then opened it with a sigh, releasing a harmless, balmy breeze that rustled the hair of the nearest disciples. A few of them actually sighed in relief, their tense shoulders slumping.
"There," Su Lan said, brushing her hands together. "Much more temperate."
The silence that followed was absolute.
The Azure Snow disciples stared, their mouths hanging open. They had been braced for a spiritual collision, for their Vanguard to rise and et fire with ice. Instead, their Vanguard hadn’t even bothered to stand. And the dical Pavilion’s genius, the one they all thought was just a healer, had just... swallowed a Core Spirit Realm prodigy’s aura like it was a light snack.
Yan Lang, standing with the Hidden Dragons, let out a low, appreciative chuckle. Shan rely nodded, a glint of respect in his eyes.
From the Crimson Sun Sect’s table, the reactions were less composed.
The elder who had been sitting beside Zhu Yan, a man with a beard like rusted iron, shot to his feet. His chair scraped loudly against the floor. "What is this?" he barked, his voice rough with shock. "What technique was that?"
The Void Whisper Sect’s representative, a woman shrouded in gray silk who had been observing everything with detached interest, leaned forward slightly. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, were fixed on Su Lan.
Zhu Yan’s face flushed a dark, furious red. The easy arrogance was gone, stripped away by utter bewildernt. He’d thrown the full weight of his cultivation pressure, a pressure that made weaker cultivators faint, and this woman had not only neutralized it, she’d complinted it. She’d treated his display of power like a faulty room heater.
"You..." he sputtered, the heat around him flickering unsteadily. "You dare to mock ? What trick did you use?"
Su Lan tilted her head, her smile never wavering. "Mock you? Young Master, I was thanking you. My colleague here," she gestured politely to Lin Tian, "has a constitution that runs cool. The extra warmth was a thoughtful gesture. I rely... circulated it."
She said it so sincerely, so innocently, that it was the deepest possible cut.
Lin Tian finally spoke. He didn’t look at Zhu Yan. He looked down at his cup, swirling the remaining wine. "Your concern for a rival sect’s comfort is noted, Young Master Zhu," he said, his tone conversational, almost bored. "Though in the future, you might want to work on your precision. You nearly ruined the table setting."
A choked sound ca from sowhere in the Azure Snow contingent. Soone was trying very hard not to laugh.
Zhu Yan looked like he’d been slapped. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white. The air around him began to shimr again with barely contained heat, but it was erratic, uncontrolled. The humiliation was throwing him off balance.
"You think this is a joke?" he snarled, taking another step forward. "You, a nobody from a backwater sect, and your... your nurse?"
The Rust-Beard Elder grabbed Zhu Yan’s shoulder, his grip firm. "Zhu Yan," he said, his voice a low growl of warning. He was staring at Su Lan with new, wary intensity. He hadn’t sensed any great surge of power from her. No colossal aura, no violent clash of elents. She had simply... taken the energy and made it disappear. It was a level of control and harmony that spoke of a profound, terrifying understanding of spiritual forces. It was the kind of skill that didn’t belong on a re attendant.
"Elder," Zhu Yan protested, trying to shake off the hand.
"Enough," the elder hissed. He gave a stiff, shallow bow toward Elder Shen. "My apologies for my disciple’s... exuberance. The journey was long. He is eager to test himself."
Elder Shen Ruoyi’s face was a mask of polite ice. "Of course. The young are often overeager. We are pleased to host such passionate talent." Her words were diplomatic, but her eyes were cold. The ssage was clear: your boy tried to show off, and he made a fool of himself. We won’t escalate, but don’t try it again.
The Rust-Beard Elder nodded tightly, forcing Zhu Yan back into his seat with a firm yank. Zhu Yan went, but his burning eyes never left Lin Tian, filled with a promise of pure, undiluted hatred.
The Void Whisper woman finally spoke. Her voice was a soft, whispery thing, yet it carried to every corner of the hall. "A fascinating display of energy harmonization," she said, her gaze lingering on Su Lan. "To absorb a foreign Yang aura of that potency without conflict... that is not a common dical technique. May I ask your na, disciple?"
Su Lan offered a slight, respectful bow. "This one is Su Lan, of the Azure Snow Sect’s dical Pavilion. It is rely a matter of understanding flow and blockage, Elder. Nothing more."
"Nothing more," the woman repeated, a faint, unreadable smile touching her lips. She glanced at Lin Tian, who was now examining his fingernails, then back to Su Lan. "I see. How... modest."
The tension in the hall slowly began to drain, replaced by a buzzing undercurrent of whispers. Azure Snow disciples were nudging each other, eyes wide, replaying what just happened. The Crimson Sun contingent sat in stiff, embarrassed silence. The Void Whisper disciples remained eerily quiet, observing everything.
Lin Tian reached for the wine jug to refill his cup. The wine was cool again.
Well done, he thought to Su Lan.
End of Chapter 126
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