Chapter 17: The Cultivator's Crisis and the Rickroll of Destiny part-2
(Now!) Ethan screamed in Ye Tian's mind. (Kick the door open!)
BANG!
The heavy wooden doors of the pavilion flew off their hinges. They didn't just open; they disintegrated into splinters (thanks to a small telekinetic shove from Ethan).
The music stopped. The dancers froze.
Ye Tian stood in the doorway, his white "Illusionary Robes" glowing in the moonlight, his hair blowing in a wind that didn't exist indoors. He looked like a god of war descended from the heavens.
"Ye Tian?" Lin Xue gasped, lowering the cup.
"Put the cup down, Xue-er," Ye Tian said, his voice amplified by Ethan to sound deeper and more resonant.
Zhao Feng stood up, his face darkening. "Junior Brother Ye? How dare you interrupt this banquet? And where did you get those robes? Did you steal them?"
Ye Tian walked into the room. The pressure radiating from him was fake—it was just Ethan projecting a "Fear Aura"—but to the guests, it felt like a powerful cultivator had entered.
"I did not come to discuss fashion," Ye Tian said, staring Zhao Feng in the eyes. "I came to fetch my fiancée. And to tell you that your wine smells like... desperation."
Zhao Feng slammed his hand on the table. "Insolence! A mere Qi Condensation trash dares to insult me? I am the Alchemy Genius! I could crush you with a single finger!"
(He is going to attack,) Ethan warned. (Ye Tian, you cannot beat him in a fair fight. He is in the Foundation Establishment realm. We need to cheat. I am buying a one-time consumable: " The Reflector Mirror of Karma". It costs 500 points, but it reflects any non-lethal status effect back at the caster.)
"I challenge you!" Zhao Feng roared. "If you want to leave with her, you must prove you are worthy! Drink this wine! If you can handle the spiritual energy within it without exploding, I will admit you are not trash!"
Zhao Feng smirked. He knew the wine wasn't just an aphrodisiac; it was potent. If a weak cultivator drank it, they would burn up with lust and make a fool of themselves.
Lin Xue stood up. "No! Ye Tian cannot handle strong spirit energy!"
Ye Tian looked at the cup. Then he looked at Zhao Feng.
(Drink it,) Ethan commanded. (Trust me. The Mirror is active.)
Ye Tian didn't hesitate. He grabbed the jade decanter—not the cup, the whole bottle—and downed it in one go.
The room gasped.
Zhao Feng laughed. "You idiot! That is enough potency to kill an elephant! You are going to—"
Suddenly, Zhao Feng stopped laughing. He clutched his chest. His face turned bright red. Steam began to shoot out of his ears.
The "Reflector Mirror" had done its job. The effects of the aphrodisiac were instantly transferred from Ye Tian back to the brewer, Zhao Feng.
"I... I feel..." Zhao Feng stammered. His eyes glazed over. He looked at the wooden pillar next to him. "Hello, beautiful."
"What is happening to him?" Lin Xue asked, horrified.
"He is succumbing to his own medicine," Ye Tian said calmly.
Zhao Feng began to embrace the wooden pillar. "You are so strong... so sturdy..." he moaned, caressing the wood. "Let us cultivate together!"
The disciples in the room covered their mouths. The dignified Alchemy Genius was dry-humping the architecture.
"My eyes!" one of the dancers screamed.
(Okay, that is sufficiently humiliating,) Ethan chuckled. (But we are not done. He has a backup plan. Transmigrators always have a backup plan. Watch out for his System Interface!)
Sure enough, even in his delirious state, Zhao Feng's survival instinct kicked in. His System auto-injected a sobering antidote.
Zhao Feng gasped, shaking his head. The redness faded, replaced by pure rage. He realized what had happened (though he didn't know how).
"You... you used a demonic art to reflect the poison!" Zhao Feng accused, pointing a shaking finger at Ye Tian. "You are a demonic cultivator! That is the only explanation!"
The crowd murmured. Demonic cultivators were killed on sight.
"I am no demon," Ye Tian said steadfastly. "I merely have a strong constitution."
"Liar!" Zhao Feng drew his sword. It was a spirit weapon, glowing with blue light. "I challenge you to a duel of the arts! Not combat, since you are weak. A duel of... poetry and culture! A true cultivator must be learned. If you lose, you crawl out of here between my legs!"
(Poetry?) Ethan paused. (This guy is from Earth. He is going to plagiarize famous Earth poems to sound smart. Classic Transmigrator move.)
"Fine," Ye Tian agreed.
Zhao Feng smirked. He cleared his throat and recited, with great dramatic flair:
"I wondered lonely as a cloud,That floats on high o'er vales and hills,When all at once I saw a crowd,A host, of golden daffodils..."
The disciples applauded. "Beautiful!" "Such imagery!" "Senior Brother Zhao is a poet sage!"
Zhao Feng bowed. "Your turn, trash. Can you beat Wordsworth?"
Ye Tian looked panic-stricken. "I... I don't know any poems about flowers."
(Don't worry,) Ethan said. (Two can play at this game. I am going to channel a poem from Earth directly into your vocal cords. But we are going to style it like an ancient prophecy. It will confuse him and assert dominance. Trust me.)
Ye Tian took a deep breath. He stepped forward, his eyes locking onto Zhao Feng. Ethan took control of the speech center.
"Your poem is flowery, but lacks commitment," Ye Tian boomed. "Listen to the Dao of Eternal Devotion!"
Ye Tian raised his hands, and music seemed to swell from nowhere (Sound Illusion courtesy of Ethan).
Ye Tian began to recite, his voice filled with gravitas:
"Never shall I give thee up, to the void,""Never shall I let thee down, into the abyss,""Never shall I run around, like a fleeing dog,""And desert thee, in the realm of pain."
Zhao Feng froze. His eyes went wide. (Wait... is that...?)
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