179: Chapter 179 Forced relationships are never sweet

"Oh? Is that so?" Zhao Chengfang dragged out her tone with an "I understand, I understand" expression, then cheerfully pulled out two hundred Spirit Stones to buy three top-grade Talismans. "Alright, Sixth Aunt won't disturb you young people's romantic mood. Zhanyuan, although cultivation is important, you should also put some effort into the matter of a Dao Companion. After all, as the Young Lord, expanding the family branches and leaving descendants is also your responsibility."

Zhao Chengfang gave him an "I understand you" look, put her hands behind her back, and happily strolled away.

Young Patriarch Zhao Zhanyuan stood in place, his earlobes turning so red they looked as if they were about to drip blood, while you stood beside him, covering your mouth with your sleeve and chuckling with your shoulders shaking.

"What are you laughing at?" Young Patriarch Zhao Zhanyuan glanced at you coldly, attempting to conceal his embarrassment with an icy tone.

You lowered your sleeve, looking at him with curved eyebrows and eyes: "Nothing, I just think that the Young Lord blushing looks quite cute."

"You..." Young Patriarch Zhao Zhanyuan was choked up by your blunt words. He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the panic in his heart, and with a wave of his large sleeve, swept all the remaining Talismans on the stall into his Storage Pouch.

"I won't sell anymore today. Pack up the stall." His tone was somewhat stiff.

You were stunned for a moment: "Why aren't you selling anymore? We just opened up."

"I have other matters." Young Patriarch Zhao Zhanyuan did not explain much. He took out five Low-Grade Spirit Stones from his Storage Pouch and handed them to you: "This is the compensation for helping me shout out customers today. I won't use your help for free."

Looking at the Spirit Stones he handed over, you thought to yourself: "I didn't expect such an unexpected pleasant surprise. This Young Lord is truly generous, making five Spirit Stones just from shouting twice." You accepted them without any politeness and said with a beaming smile: "Then many thanks for the Young Lord's reward."

Seeing that you accepted the Spirit Stones, Young Patriarch Zhao Zhanyuan turned around and prepared to summon his Flying Sword to leave.

Right at this moment, you took half a step forward, slightly raised your head, and said in a gentle voice: "Zhanyuan, tomorrow the spiritual lotus on Qingyang Lake will bloom, and I heard the scenery is extremely beautiful. Do you... have time to accompany me on a boat ride on the lake?"

Young Patriarch Zhao Zhanyuan's movements suddenly paused. He turned around, his deep gaze locking onto you tightly, as if that gaze could pierce through your disguise and see your true thoughts clearly.

Two seconds later, he averted his gaze, his eyes returning to a state of unrippled stillness as he spoke in a cold and hard voice: "No time, I want to Cultivate."

After saying that, he did not spare you another glance. The Flying Sword beneath his feet emitted a crisp sword cry, transforming into a stream of light that soared straight into the sky without looking back, instantly vanishing into the horizon.

Your gaze instantly dimmed, and the gentle smile at the corner of your mouth gradually vanished.

"Alright then." You whispered softly toward the empty sky, your voice carrying a trace of just-right disappointment.

Not far away, in the corner of the market, several collateral descendants of the Zhao family took in this entire scene.

These few people were precisely the Zhao family descendants who had previously fawned over you extensively in the Guest District, only to be ruthlessly rejected by you.

"Heh, I thought she was so high and mighty. Turns out she just looks down on us ordinary Zhao family descendants and has her eyes set on Brother Yuan instead." A tall, thin youth said sourly, his eyes filled with jealousy.

"Exactly, she truly overestimates her capabilities." Another round-faced descendant sneered, his tone full of disdain. "She doesn't even look in a mirror to see what she is. Last time, that legitimate daughter of the Ziyu Li Family, Li Qingyi, was not only of noble status, but her Spiritual Root was also a Three-Spiritual Root. Her appearance was one of jade-like skin and ethereal bones, possessing a nation-toppling beauty, and her talent was even more astonishing and brilliant. At only twenty-something years of age, she was already in the Late Stage of Qi Condensation."

"She took the initiative to come to our Zhao family and stayed for two years, chasing after Brother Yuan in reverse, yet Brother Yuan didn't even exchange a few words with her. As for her Lin Shuangwan, a mere female cultivator with an Inferior Spiritual Root, so what if she has a little talent in Talisman-making? Can she compare to our Young Lord? Can she compare to Li Qingyi? What sheer fantasy! How could Brother Yuan ever take a fancy to her."

The round-faced descendant's words resonated with the others, who chimed in to mock you for overestimating your capabilities. In the Cultivation World, matching social status and Spiritual Root talent were ironclad rules; for a bottom-tier Loose Cultivator to vainly attempt to attach themselves to a great family's young master was, in their eyes, an absolute joke.

At this moment, standing in the middle of the group, a slender Zhao family descendant shook his folding fan and glanced at them with a half-smile.

"One cannot put it that way either." He leisurely closed his folding fan, a hint of banter in his tone. "Fairy Lin ignored all of you; have you ever considered that the problem lies with yourselves?"

The few of them were stunned and looked at him.

He tapped them with his folding fan and said with heartbreaking grief: "After all these years, have you all worked hard to Cultivate? Has your cultivation realm made any progress? Are your monthly allowances all spent on eating, drinking, and making merry? You don't work hard yourselves, yet you blame others for looking down on you. It's really quite laughable."

"Fourth Brother! Why are you speaking up for an outsider!" The several Zhao family descendants were instantly struck at their sore spot, feeling both ashamed and annoyed, their faces turning beet red.

"I'm merely speaking the truth." Fourth Brother laughed out loud, shook his folding fan, and turned to leave, leaving behind several disheveled Zhao family descendants in the wind.

On the street, you stood in place, looking at the direction where Young Patriarch Zhao Zhanyuan had vanished, feeling a slight sense of envy in your heart. You also wanted to fly, but wanting to pilot a Magical Artifact for flight required at least the Late Stage of Qi Condensation to have that level of spiritual power strength.

And you were still some distance away from the Mid Qi Condensation stage right now.

After regaining your senses, you could not help muttering inwardly.

"Could this guy really be cultivating the ruthless Dao? I've been so proactive, and yet he didn't react at all? He ran faster than a rabbit." You rubbed your chin and shook your head helplessly: "How am I supposed to handle this? Could it be that I chose the wrong target? Or is it that my green tea skills have regressed?"

Recalling Young Patriarch Zhao Zhanyuan's cold and hard rejection just now, you let out a sigh.

"Forget it, forget it. If it doesn't work out, then so be it. A forced melon is not sweet; not only can it not quench your thirst, but it's also easy to chip your teeth." Your gaze once again became clear and cold.

"Let's put Young Patriarch Zhao Zhanyuan's line aside for now. The most urgent task is still to enhance my strength first."

You returned to Courtyard C-37 and locked the door of the east room with a backhand motion.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, you took out the newly purchased chi yan sword from your Storage Pouch.

The sword body was entirely crimson red, faintly emanating a trace of warmth, with several intricate flame spirit patterns engraved on its surface. You took a deep breath, circulating the 《 Burning Heaven True Art 》, and a wisp of scorching fire-attribute spiritual power surged from your palm, slowly injecting into the hilt.

"Hum—"