A perfect deal had been struck right under everyone's noses, without a sound.
The awards ceremony was over. Chief Steward Wang left in complete satisfaction, the supreme divine pill he treasured lying quietly in his Storage Bag, as if heralding the glorious future that awaited him.
But just as he turned around, a hand respectfully stopped him.
"Chief Steward Wang, please wait."
Wang turned back. Seeing Zhou Xuan's face, wearing a deferential smile, he felt his brow relax without thinking.
His opinion of this sensible, well-behaved lucky star—who had even presented him with an opportunity defying the heavens—had never been better.
"Is something the matter?"
"Chief Steward, could I speak with you in private?"
Zhou Xuan carried himself with the utmost humility, even bending slightly at the waist, like a subordinate showing respect to his superior.
Wang felt a little impatient, but thought of the divine pill and nodded, putting up with it. He followed Zhou Xuan to an empty corner beside the tournament arena.
"Go on. What is it?"
Wang asked coolly, already planning how to enter seclusion once he returned and use the divine pill to break through his bottleneck in one fell swoop.
"Chief Steward."
Zhou Xuan rubbed his hands together, a hint of embarrassment on his face. He spoke cautiously. "I don't want to go to the Outer Sect."
"What?"
Wang froze. His narrowed eyes flew open, and he stared hard at Zhou Xuan, certain he must have misheard.
He didn't want to go to the Outer Sect?
Had this kid been kicked in the head by a donkey?
What kind of place was the Chore Servant Courtyard?
It was the Spirit Sword Pavilion's lowest-level garbage dump!
Which Chore Disciple wasn't racking their brains, dreaming of squeezing into the Outer Sect, leaping through the Dragon Gate