While Qingyun Pavilion, though far inferior in strength to the Lingxiao Pavilion and seemingly insignificant in Jiang Wang’s eyes, was, after all, one of the top sects in Shun’an Prefecture, far surpassing the likes of the Xiyun Sword Sect.

They had clearly put much thought into this birthday celebration for Marquis Weining.

The line of gift-bearing servants stretched out like a long serpent.

Leading the procession was a short-bearded elder of about sixty years, accompanied by a young man with a somewhat sinister countenance. Their closeness suggested a master-disciple or father-son relationship.

The remaining servants and attendants added to the imposing display.

The short-bearded elder proceeded directly towards the Marquis’s mansion, as was expected of a sect of Qingyun Pavilion’s stature. They were not obliged to queue outside the mansion like the common rabble.

“Hmm?”

Steward Jiao, who had been greeting guests at the mansion’s entrance, suddenly shifted, blocking their path.

The short-bearded elder smiled, cupping his fist in greeting. “Brother Jiao, long time no see!”

The steward remained expressionless. “What business do you have here?”

The elder’s smile faltered, but he still managed to answer, “Feng Yue, on behalf of Qingyun Pavilion, has come to offer birthday felicitations to the Marquis!”

The steward gestured with his chin towards the long queue outside the mansion. “So many people have come to offer birthday greetings to the Marquis, and they are all waiting in line. Why should you be exempt?”

“Brother Jiao,” Feng Yue said with a smile, discreetly slipping a storage box into the steward’s hand under the cover of his sleeve, “Is there perhaps something that I, Feng, have done to offend you? Please, do tell.”

The steward stepped back, exposing the storage box to everyone’s view. He said coldly, “Our Marquis governs his household as he commands his army. Master Feng, what is the meaning of this?”

The silent young man suddenly raised his head, casting a chilling glance at the steward.

The steward, whose cultivation was not particularly high, recoiled slightly under the oppressive gaze, then bristled with anger. “What are you looking at!”

Feng Yue spun around and slapped the young man across the face. “Head down! Eyes closed!”

The Qingyun Pavilion youth immediately lowered his head and closed his eyes.

Feng Yue turned back to the steward, smiling apologetically. “Youngsters can be so impetuous. Please forgive him. We’ll join the queue over there, is that correct?”

The steward said coldly, “If you don’t wish to queue, you may return. The Weining Marquis’s mansion does not lack for such trivial gestures.”

“We will queue, of course, we will queue.” Feng Yue maintained his smile, seemingly unfazed by the awkward situation. “The Weining Marquis’s mansion certainly does not lack, but Qingyun Pavilion’s sincerity cannot be absent.”

He waved his hand behind him. “Take the men to join the queue.”

The young man who had just been slapped said nothing, turning to walk towards the end of the line.

“You must forgive this spectacle.” Feng Yue bowed to the steward once more, then retreated respectfully.

Jiang Wang glanced at them for a few moments before turning away, feigning indifference. The sinister youth clearly did not possess a magnanimous nature, and being seen as mocking Qingyun Pavilion would not bode well.

However, he had committed both individuals to memory.

He had anticipated Qingyun Pavilion’s setback at the Weining Marquis’s mansion.

Jiao Xiong, whom he had slain with a single sword strike in the Chi Yun Mountains, also bore the surname Jiao.

Jiao Xiong, a cultivator who had opened three palaces but had not yet attained supernatural abilities, was said to be among the top fifteen of the younger generation in Yong.

Of course, such rankings were not always reliable. Chi Yue of Qingyun Pavilion, for example, was clearly stronger than Jiao Xiong, yet no such ranking existed for her.

However, Chi Yue, despite being more powerful, still had to humor Jiao Xiong. This suggested that the Jiao family wielded considerable influence in Yong. Jiang Wang had easily discovered Jiao Xiong’s background; he was none other than the Weining Marquis’s direct grandson.

Only the Jiao family, led by Weining Marquis Jiao Wu, was worthy of Qingyun Pavilion’s solicitations.

Among Jiao Wu’s many descendants, Jiao Xiong, who had opened three palaces at a young age, was the most promising. Yet, he had died in the Chi Yun Mountains.

The Weining Marquis’s dissatisfaction with Qingyun Pavilion was, of course, understandable.

Naturally, if an outsider like Jiang Wang could surmise this much, the people of Qingyun Pavilion would surely be aware as well. It was even possible that Feng Yue had come in person to “endure humiliation,” allowing the Weining Marquis’s mansion to vent its anger and thus avoid more dire consequences in the future.

The long queue finally dwindled to nothing before dusk. More than half of those who had delivered their birthday gifts departed without even the privilege of a seat.

Jiang Wang’s current status as a transcendent cultivator, and the Xiyun Sword Sect’s earlier attempts to establish a relationship, earned him an invitation into the Marquis’s mansion, where he was granted a seat—albeit one at the outermost tables, reserved for less important guests.

Those responsible for attending to them were merely a few stewards. The true members of the Jiao family would not make an appearance. Even the stewards themselves were not particularly attentive.

Jiang Wang casually found a relatively unoccupied spot to sit. No one recognized him, and he had no need to recognize anyone else.

Before long, Feng Yue and the sinister youth were led into the outer courtyard by servants of the mansion.

Steward Jiao, who had previously spoken with Feng Yue outside the mansion gates, was now standing at the courtyard entrance, overseeing the arrival and departure of guests. As the second-ranked steward in the Weining Marquis’s mansion, he could represent the Jiao family in many affairs.

This was why Feng Yue of Qingyun Pavilion addressed him as “Brother Jiao,” and why he dared to treat Feng Yue with such disdain.

A first-rate sect in Shun’an Prefecture like Qingyun Pavilion, even if the Weining Marquis’s family intended to slight them, should still have been welcomed into the inner courtyard.

But at this moment, Steward Jiao cast a glance at them, and a surge of annoyance welled up within him.

The master of the house had already instructed that the people of Qingyun Pavilion were not to be treated with any courtesy. He could determine the degree of disrespect himself. Forcing Qingyun Pavilion to queue alongside those insignificant nobodies outside the mansion gates had been a form of reprimand.

That should have been enough, and anything further would depend on the master of the house’s decision. But that ill-mannered youth from Qingyun Pavilion had dared to glare at him!

Did they think that Qingyun Pavilion, a mere sect, could shake the Weining Marquis’s mansion? They had not yet atoned for their transgression, yet they dared to harbor resentment towards the Weining Marquis’s family?

“You,” Steward Jiao said, his anger rising, and pointed. “Sit over there!”

The direction he pointed was towards the table where Jiang Wang was sitting.

The reason it was sparsely occupied was because no one wanted to sit there. It was located near the entrance, the least valued spot in the entire courtyard. It was generally reserved for the lowest-ranking guests.

In that moment of choice, he had chosen the option that would be the most humiliating for Qingyun Pavilion.

The sinister-looking youth from Qingyun Pavilion flew into a rage and took a step forward, but Feng Yue immediately restrained him.

Even in this situation, Feng Yue maintained his smile.

“Feng Ming, sit down,” he said.

The young man named Feng Ming gritted his teeth and wordlessly walked over, heavily seating himself beside Jiang Wang. The stool creaked under the strain, a clear indication of his humiliation.

Feng Yue, for his part, cupped his fist at Steward Jiao and said with a smile, “I am a guest here and shall abide by your arrangements. I hope I am not intruding.”

Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought that he was enjoying VIP treatment.

Steward Jiao replied with a forced smile, “You are too kind.”

“Brother Jiao,” Feng Yue said, looking around before stepping forward intimately, “The Marquis’s mansion is of such high standing, and I am unfamiliar with its customs. There are some questions I would like to ask. Would this be convenient?”

Jiao Fu glanced at him, neither agreeing nor refusing, and turned to walk inside.

Feng Yue gave Feng Ming a warning look, then followed behind.

Jiang Wang sat casually, nodding in greeting to his new neighbor, only to be met with a cold glare from Feng Ming.

He simply smiled, unconcerned.

His plan was proceeding smoothly, everything under control.