First-class superiority? Something just flew past the window!
Jing Airlines flight 8732 was cruising steadily at an altitude of ten thousand meters.
In first class, the air conditioning was a little too strong.
Ruan Qingwu reclined in her spacious airline seat with a thin blanket draped over her, her whole demeanor radiating a coolness that warned strangers away.
Across the aisle, Fatty Wang sat chewing the complimentary macadamia nuts, his face full of frustration.
It all started half an hour earlier.
While boarding, that bastard Zhou Zihao had apparently gotten his wires crossed. He had insisted on throwing down a huge sum to buy off the ground staff and forcibly upgrade Ruan Qingwu and Fatty Wang's economy tickets to first class.
He had dressed it up as, "Meeting is fate. Since we know each other now, we ought to look out for one another."
Fatty Wang had originally wanted to show some backbone and take Ruan Qingwu back to economy.
But Zhou Zihao had simply resold their two economy seats to someone else.
There was no choice. If they refused first class, they would have to get off the plane.
The two could only hold their noses and move over.
Now, Zhou Zihao was sitting diagonally behind Ruan Qingwu, finding every possible way to make his presence felt.
"Flight attendant, come over here, please."
Zhou Zihao leaned against his seat back, swirling half a glass of champagne in his hand.
A flight attendant hurried over, bending down with a smile. "Sir, how may I help you?"
Zhou Zihao shook the green Submariner on his left wrist, his voice neither loud nor soft, just enough for everyone in first class to hear.
"Is this the standard of service in Jing Airlines' first class now? What vintage is this champagne? It tastes sour and astringent. Are you fobbing people off with this cheap wine?"
The flight attendant maintained her professional smile as she explained, "I'm sorry, sir. This is supplied exclusively to our airline..."
"All right, all right, spare me the explanation." Zhou Zihao waved impatiently. "I'm only putting up with this because my private jet is in for maintenance today."
As he spoke, his eyes kept drifting toward Ruan Qingwu.
Unfortunately, Ruan Qingwu did not even lift her eyelids, as though nothing but air sat nearby.
Fatty Wang could not stand listening any longer. He leaned toward Ruan Qingwu, muttering curses under his breath.
"Qingwu, just look at him. Wearing some lousy watch and practically holding it up to the heavens. He really thinks he's a domineering CEO."
Ruan Qingwu opened her eyes slightly and took out one earbud.
"Just ignore him." Her voice was soft, tinged with fatigue. "We'll go our separate ways once we reach Jinghai."
With that, she put her earbud back in.
In truth, she was a little unsettled herself.
That unreliable guy Lin Bei still had not replied to a single WeChat message.
He had said he had his own private transportation. Was he really planning to cycle to Jinghai?
At that thought, Ruan Qingwu let out an almost imperceptible sigh.
At the same time.
Ten thousand meters up, above the clouds.
"Achoo!"
Lin Bei let out a mighty sneeze.
Although a faint blue-green spiritual energy shield blocked the fierce wind rushing toward him, the temperature up here was a very real several dozen degrees below zero.
He wore only a gray short-sleeved shirt washed pale. Without his Qi Refining First Layer physique toughing it out, he would probably have frozen into an ice sculpture by now.
"I didn't think this through."
Lin Bei sniffled and glanced down beneath his feet.
The iron sword that had cost 9.9 yuan with free shipping wobbled in midair, a thin layer of ice crystals already coating its blade.
"System, is there something seriously wrong with this mission of yours?"
Lin Bei complained inwardly.
"You want me to fly around in the sky and collect ten million Sensation Points. There isn't even a speck of bird shit up here at ten thousand meters. Who am I supposed to cause a sensation for? The Jade Emperor?"
As always, the system played dead, offering no response.
Lin Bei sighed.
For that god-tier draw, he could only grit his teeth and hold on.
He released his divine sense and swept it around listlessly.
Suddenly, Lin Bei perked up.
From the clouds ahead to his right came the faint, tremendous roar of engines.
Then a white Boeing passenger jet broke through the sea of clouds, smoothly entering his field of view.
Jing Airlines 8732.
Lin Bei's eyes lit up.
There had to be at least a hundred or two people on that plane. Wasn't that a ready-made audience?
"Let's go!"
At a thought from Lin Bei, the iron sword beneath his feet gave a clear ring and accelerated with a whoosh, carrying him toward the passenger jet.
As he drew closer, Lin Bei's divine sense penetrated the cabin without any obstruction.
He had only meant to check what was going on inside, but one sweep of his divine sense left him stunned.
"Well, well. Familiar faces."
In the first-class cabin at the very front of the plane, he clearly sensed Ruan Qingwu and Fatty Wang's auras.
Lin Bei raised his eyebrows.
Didn't those two buy economy tickets? How did they end up in first class?
He continued probing with his divine sense.
Soon, he sensed Zhou Zihao sitting diagonally behind them.
Zhou Zihao was currently complaining to the flight attendant about the comfort of his seat, spittle flying, while his eyes swept over Ruan Qingwu now and then like radar.
One look at that bastard's expression told Lin Bei what kind of crap he was spouting.
He had just been worrying about how to cause a sensation. Now he had not only a ready-made audience, but a ready-made sucker too.
"All right. Today, I'll teach you a lesson free of charge."
Lin Bei sharply drove the spiritual power within him.
The iron sword traced a streak of blue-green light, cutting straight into the clouds on the passenger jet's right.
He deliberately controlled his speed, holding steady less than ten meters from the windows on the plane's right side, flying in perfect synchronization with the jet.
Inside the cabin.
In a right-side window seat in first class, a little boy of five or six was leaning against the glass, gazing boredly at the white clouds outside.
Suddenly, the little boy's eyes went round as saucers, and his chubby little hands slapped hard against the window.
"Mom! Mom, look!"
The little boy was so excited his voice cracked.
"There's someone outside! Someone's flying in the sky!"
His young mother beside him was wearing an overnight face mask and jumped at her son's shout.
Impatiently, she pulled her eye mask halfway down and glared at him.
"What are you yelling about? We're ten thousand meters up. How could there be anyone out there? Sit properly and stop disturbing the other uncles and aunties."
The little boy grew frantic, nearly pressing half his body against the glass.
"It's true! Mom, I'm not lying! That person's standing on a sword! He's even wearing a black hood!"
That uninhibited childish shout sounded particularly jarring in the quiet first-class cabin.
Quite a few passengers frowned.
Zhou Zihao had been fretting over his lack of an opportunity to show off in front of Ruan Qingwu. Hearing this, he immediately scoffed.
"Little fellow, been watching too many sci-fi movies?"
He straightened his collar unhurriedly.
"We're ten thousand meters up, and it's dozens of degrees below zero outside. Never mind a person-even Iron Man would freeze into an ice pop."
As he spoke, he turned toward Ruan Qingwu and spread his hands.
"Parents these days spoil their children too much, filling their heads with unrealistic fantasies. If someone really can fly out there on a sword, then I, Zhou Zihao, will gnaw down this airplane seat raw today!"
Fatty Wang rolled his eyes dramatically and muttered, "Would it kill you not to show off?"
Zhou Zihao ignored Fatty Wang.
He turned and looked out the window in the direction the little boy was pointing.
He had already decided that once he confirmed there was nothing outside, he would take the opportunity to offer a few words of instruction and display his mature, composed bearing.
However.
The instant his gaze met the window.
The sneer on Zhou Zihao's face froze solid.