Shameless Immortal: Emperor of Ten Thousand Beauties

The challenge hung in the warm air of the pavilion, cutting through the heavy scent of spirit-carp and vintage wine like a sudden mountain frost.

Hundreds of eyes darted between the two young titans: Wu Junjie, the aggressive, blooded hound of the City Lord’s direct line, and Shen Yu, the serene, untouchable Golden Paragon.

Wu Shan made no move to interfere. Inwardly, he was praising his son’s flawless timing.

This was a perfect political play, it offered a chance to gauge exactly what depth of martial heritage this "Golden Paragon" truly possessed, while simultaneously deflating the boy’s ballooning reputation among the common folks through a calculated public humiliation.

Shen Yu looked up, taking in the vibrant, arrogant, and youthful energy radiating from the young man. Looking at that fierce, unbroken spirit, a flicker of genuine nostalgia touched his mind, echoing from his past life.

’Ah,’ he thought, a faint, detached amusement coloring his psyche. ’The sweet, foolish days of youth...’

Right then, a translucent blue ripples distorted his vision as the system screen flickered into existence.

[ NEW QUEST INITIATED!!! ]

[Directive: The Humiliation of the Son of City Lord.

Objective: Wu Junjie is a 3rd-Stage Foundation Establishment cultivator. He is driven by arrogance and seeks to dismantle your reputation as the Golden Paragon. Defeat him, break his spirit, and humiliate him utterly before the gathered elites.

Reward: 1,500 Desire Points (DP), Random Lottery Ticket × 1

Failure Penalty: Severe loss of regional prestige, your manhood will remain entirely flaccid and unresponsive for a duration of one month.]

Shen Yu grinned inwardly, dismissing the penalty without a second thought.

Failure wasn’t an option. His Perfect 10th Stage of Qi Condensation already granted him raw power that eclipsed a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator.

When combined with the lethal, instinctual combat refinement of his 400 years of past-life experience, he could ruthlessly dismantle even a Late-Stage Foundation Establishment expert.

Bypassing the roaring youth for a moment, Shen Yu turned his golden gaze directly to the head of the table. "What is the meaning of this, City Lord?" he asked, his voice a perfect blend of mild surprise and polite confusion.

Wu Shan caught the cue, smoothing over his expressions as he looked toward his son.

"Junjie, stop this unruly behavior. Young Master Tang is currently at the 9th Stage of Qi Condensation, while you have already crossed into the 3rd Stage of Foundation Establishment. Such a gap makes a match inherently unrighteous, don’t you think?"

Before Junjie could bark a retort, Shen Yu smiled, smoothly cutting off the young lord. "You misunderstand me, City Lord. I was not questioning the disparity in our cultivation."

He paused, a dark, opportunistic edge creeping into his saintly demeanor. "I simply mean that if a challenge is to be issued in front of such distinguished guests, a proper wager must be laid. A martial clash without stakes is merely a street brawl."

’If he wants to offer himself up,’ Shen Yu thought evilly, ’the least I can do is bleed his family dry.’

Wu Shan stiffened for a fraction of a second before letting out a booming, jovial laugh. "Hahaha! Young Master Tang, you truly know how to appreciate the finer rules of engagement! Very well, what is it that catches your eye?"

Shen Yu’s smile widened, sharp and knowing. "I recall hearing that you recently acquired the Crimson Eclipse Sabre, a peak-grade Earth Realm treasure refined from the marrow of a volcanic drake. What say we place that on the table?"

A collective intake of breath rustled through the pavilion. That sabre was a masterpiece that Wu Shan had expended an immense amount of political favors and spirit stones to secure from the capital.

The City Lord’s face tightened, his diplomatic mask straining against a surge of real irritation. Yet, with hundreds of minor clan leaders watching and his royal pride on the line, he couldn’t back down.

"Very well," Wu Shan forced out, his tone tight but steady. "The Crimson Eclipse shall be the prize."

Hearing his father agree, Wu Junjie stepped forward, his chest heaving with arrogant excitement. He looked past Shen Yu, his eyes locking onto the ethereal, sharp beauty of the young woman seated at the Tang table.

"If you are wagering a treasure of the City Lord’s estate, then the Tang Clan must match it," Junjie declared, a lecherous, possessive grin spreading across his face.

"When I win, I want the hand of Lady Lixue in marriage."

The hall erupted into a low, frantic murmur. No one had anticipated the imperial scion would target the pride of the Tang Clan so blatantly.

Beside him, Wu Shan’s eyes gleamed with intense satisfaction. He internally applauded his son’s genius.

With the Tang Clan’s influence soaring, absorbing Lixue into the City Lord’s lineage via marriage would give them absolute, permanent leverage over the Tang Clan’s future.

But as the proposal echoed through the pavilion, something fundamental shifted in the depths of Shen Yu’s golden eyes.

For a microsecond, a localized, suffocating wave of pure, unadulterated killing intent flared within his soul.

He didn’t let a single wisp of it leak to the crowd, keeping his external expression as still as a winter lake, but his women knew him too well. They felt the sudden, terrifying drop in the emotional temperature.

To his left, Meng Yan glanced at Wu Junjie, her hazel eyes filling with a profound, almost tragic pity.

’Sigh...’ she thought, taking a slow sip of her wine to hide her dark smirk. ’Another arrogant idiot who has chosen a spectacular way to die.’

Shen Yu’s face remained a portrait of tranquil, terrifying calm. He didn’t bother looking back at Lixue to ask for her permission; a sovereign does not ask his subjects for consent to protect his domain.

He simply brought the jade chalice to his lips, finishing the last drops of the rich, crimson spirit-wine, before setting the cup down with a soft, final click that seemed to echo in the dead silence of the hall.

He rose from his seat in one fluid, unbroken motion. His imposing 6’5" frame unfolded like a rising mountain, immediately casting a long, dominant shadow across the polished blackwood table.

"Fine," Shen Yu said softly.