Jiang Chen, for his part, wore an expression of complete composure.
In truth, neither Ziche Min's nor the Great Sacred Master's decision came as a surprise to Jiang Chen. They simply hadn't discussed it with him beforehand.
But none of that mattered anymore.
What mattered was that after all he had done and all the waiting, the day had finally come—the day he received the backing of the Eternal Sacred Land.
This was a clear, unequivocal statement, not some vague or ambiguous position.
The moment the Great Sacred Master spoke those words, every face in the Xiahou clan's camp turned ugly. Xiahou Zong in particular, his eyes shooting out a piercing, vicious light, saw his expression cloud over with dark fury.
Though the Great Sacred Master hadn't named anyone outright, intuition told Xiahou Zong exactly whose daughter he was referring to—the Yan family's young lady.
The Yan family patriarch was stunned for a moment before he swallowed hard.
"Great Sacred Master, I wonder which of my Yan family's daughters you're referring to?" The patriarch asked, fully aware of the answer.
The Great Sacred Master smiled serenely and turned his gaze toward Huang'er.
"Among the younger generation of women in your Yan family, is there anyone more outstanding than Yan Qinghuang?"
"Her?" The patriarch found himself caught in a storm of conflicting emotions. Even he couldn't tell what he was feeling.
Joy? Unease? Worry?
Perhaps a bit of all three.
If a prodigy like Shao Yuan could become the Yan family's son-in-law, that would be an absolutely tremendous boon. But could the matter be settled with the Xiahou clan? With the Yan family's strength, could they quell the Xiahou clan's wrath?
Everyone knew that Yan Qinghuang had long been promised to Xiahou Zong to serve as his cultivation furnace.
This matter was a source of humiliation for the Yan family, but it didn't mean the Yan family could simply break the agreement.
Yet now the suitor was the Eternal Sacred Land—an existence that far surpassed the Xiahou clan. No matter how domineering the Xiahou clan was, could they defy the Eternal Sacred Land?
The Yan patriarch knew this, yet he still agonized over it. When gods fought, it was often the little ghosts who suffered. If the Xiahou clan couldn't outmatch the Eternal Sacred Land and was forced to concede, they would likely vent their fury on the Yan family's head.
That was exactly the sort of thing the Xiahou clan loved to do.
So the Yan patriarch's feelings were, at that moment, exceedingly complicated.
It was Yan Wanjun whose eyes lit up. He declared in a loud voice, "This is wonderful news! Shao Yuan is a genius of the highest order, and Yan Qinghuang is a peerless beauty—talented man and beautiful woman, a perfect match. Could there possibly be a more fitting pair under heaven?"
After all, Yan Qinghuang was Yan Wanjun's own granddaughter. If there was a chance to turn things around, he certainly didn't want to see her handed over to the Xiahou clan to be ruined.
But as soon as Yan Wanjun spoke, the Xiahou clan was having none of it.
An elder of the Xiahou clan said coldly, "Yan Wanjun, generation after generation, your Yan family has never had the faintest idea what honor means. Back then, your son had a marriage contract with our Xiahou clan, yet he went off philandering with some other woman. And now this Yan Qinghuang was promised to our Xiahou clan's prodigy, Xiahou Zong, to serve as his cultivation furnace—are you trying to go back on your word yet again?"
In truth, neither of these engagements—whether Huang'er's father's or Huang'er's own—had been made willingly. Both had been acts of desperation.
But because the Xiahou clan was so powerful, the Yan family had no recourse even when they felt wronged.
Now the Xiahou clan was twisting the knife, making it out as though the Yan family were the villains.
Yan Wanjun was left speechless, but Yan Qingsang was not about to hold back. He spoke up forcefully: "If I remember correctly, my uncle's marriage contract was imposed by your Xiahou clan in the first place! As for Huang'er, it was your Xiahou clan who used your power to bully us and forced that arrangement on our Yan family! Yes, your Xiahou clan has been very strong these past years, but our Eternal Divine Kingdom isn't without places where justice is still upheld. Let's set aside my uncle's matter for now. Just talking about Huang'er—do you dare claim it wasn't a unilateral imposition on your part? Do you have a written agreement? Do you have any ironclad proof?"
Yan Qingsang was now a disciple of the Eternal Sacred Land, and his confidence had grown considerably. Even facing the Xiahou clan, he could hold his own in debate.
Xiahou Zong didn't appreciate that. He fixed Yan Qingsang with a frigid stare. "Who do you think you are? Don't think that just because you've put on the robes of the Eternal Sacred Land, you've become some kind of genius. This isn't your place to speak."
Yan Qingsang burst into laughter. "Xiahou Zong, spare me the act. We're in the Eternal Sacred Land right now, and as a disciple of the Eternal Sacred Land, what right do I not have to speak?"
Xiahou Zong's gaze swept over Yan Qingsang like a venomous serpent, but then settled on Jiang Chen.
"Boy, you're called Shao Yuan, aren't you?" Xiahou Zong's tone dripped with arrogance.
Jiang Chen's expression remained calm and indifferent. He regarded Xiahou Zong with a look that was neither cold nor warm.
"Yan Qinghuang is my woman. That was decided long ago. If you have a taste for my leftovers, you'll have to wait until after I've worn them out. For now, I'd advise you to give up that little fantasy of yours."
That was Xiahou Zong's temperament—even within the Eternal Sacred Land, he made no effort to hide his sharp edges.
When Jiang Chen heard the word "leftovers," his brows furrowed slightly, and a flash of killing intent shot from his eyes toward Xiahou Zong.
"Xiahou Zong, did you know?" Jiang Chen said, his voice flat and detached. "In all the time I've spent in the Eternal Divine Kingdom, I've never truly despised anyone. But you—you make me despise you."
"And what of that?" Xiahou Zong sneered. "People who despise me, hate me, envy me—there's no counting them. Those people are either dead now, or they don't dare say a word in front of me. One more or one fewer, it makes no difference."
"Is that so? Then let me tell you this—every person I've ever despised is no longer among the living." Jiang Chen shot back, meeting him word for word.