"I... thank you?" Ji’an replied, thoroughly bewildered.

Jiu Zui turned back to Elder Qin, planting his hands on his hips. He swayed slightly, pointing a thumb at Ji’an’s chest.

"Listen now, you. This one is mine," the Drunken Sovereign declared, his voice suddenly losing its slurred edge, ringing with absolute, undeniable power. "I am claiming him as my disciple. He is coming to the Drunken Peak."

Elder Qin’s face darkened. "Martial Uncle. With all due respect, this disciple has a Chaotic Root. His potential will be wasted—"

"His potential is exactly what I say it is!" Jiu Zui roared, his amethyst eyes flashing with terrifying, overwhelming spiritual pressure that made the entire Jade Terrace vibrate. The air grew heavy, smelling of ozone and strong liquor. "You want him so you can quietly snap his neck to ’cure’ your little ice dragon’s mortal attachments. I know your games, Qin! I wrote the book on them! You touch one hair on this little one’s head, and I will shatter your peak into gravel!"

Ji’an’s eyes widened. ’He knows! This drunkard actually saw through me! This is why it’s annoying to deal with this person. How come he is so perceptive when he is a drunkard?’

Elder Qin gritted his teeth, his fists clenching at his sides. But he was bound by the absolute hierarchy of the cultivation world.

He could not defy his Martial Uncle as he bowed stiffly, the gesture filled with silent, seething fury. "As you command, Martial Uncle."

Jiu Zui snorted, taking another swig from his gourd. He turned back to the Sect Leader, who was still bowing.

"Listen up, you overgrown bureaucrats," Jiu Zui announced to the plaza, throwing his arm heavily over Lin Ji’an’s shoulders, nearly dragging the smaller girl down with his weight. "I haven’t taken a disciple since the last Demon War. But today, I’m taking this kid. Lin Ji’an is hereby my direct, closed-door, and only apprentice."

The Sect Leader blanched, his eyes darting between the Drunken Sovereign and the gray-robed cook. "Martial Uncle... are you certain? To take him as your direct apprentice... the generational implications..."

"I don’t care about your paperwork!" Jiu Zui laughed, ruffling Ji’an’s hair aggressively. "He makes good soup, he hits demons with a spatula, and he annoys that guy, Qin Changxu. That’s a perfect resume in my book. Come on, kid. Let’s go raid the Sect’s premium wine cellar. Master is thirsty."

Without waiting for the ceremony to conclude, the Drunken Sovereign tapped his foot against the marble.

A massive, glowing sword made entirely of condensed liquid Qi materialized beneath them.

He hauled Ji’an onto the blade, and with a sonic boom that shattered the remaining windows in the main hall, they shot into the sky, disappearing toward the most isolated peak in the mountain range.

Back on the Jade Terrace, absolute, stunned silence reigned.

It took a full minute for the implications of what had just happened to fully process in the minds of the Celestial Sword Sect.

When a cultivator took a direct disciple, that disciple inherited their master’s generational rank.

The current Sect Leader and the Peak Masters like Elder Qin and Elder Hua) belonged to the Third Generation of the sect’s lineage.

The current elite disciples, Gu Zhiwei, Xie Wangchen, Lu Jianheng, Xiao Yichen, etc., were their students, making them the Fourth Generation.

But Jiu Zui, the Drunken Sovereign, belonged to the Second Generation.

By taking Lin Ji’an as his direct, closed-door apprentice, Jiu Zui had just elevated the Class 9 cook to the Third Generation.

The Sect Leader slowly straightened up, his face ashen. He looked at the other Peak Masters. He looked at the thousands of disciples in the stands.

"By the laws of our ancestors," the Sect Leader swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he announced the new reality to the sect. "Lin Ji’an is no longer a Junior Disciple. He is the direct apprentice of the Drunken Sovereign."

The Sect Leader turned to the Inner Sect elites, the untouchable dragons, the Protagonists of the world, the proudest geniuses of their era.

"From this day forward," the Sect Leader decreed, "you shall all address him with the highest respect. From today on, Lin Ji’an is your Sect Martial Uncle."

The reaction was instantaneous and catastrophic.

In Ring Two’s waiting area, Lu Jianheng dropped Cloud-Piercer. The legendary sword clattered against the stone.

The Sword Lord’s handsome, arrogant face contorted into an expression of sheer, existential horror.

"Martial... Uncle?" Lu Jianheng whispered, his voice cracking. The boy he had been aggressively glaring at, the boy he had secretly sworn to impress with his sword forms, the boy he wanted to spar with every morning... he now had to bow to him. He had to use honorifics. He had to respectfully lower his eyes in his presence. "I have to call the cook... Martial Uncle?!"

Gu Zhiwei blinked his large golden eyes, entirely confused by the sudden bureaucratic shift. "Wait. Does this mean Brother Lin is my uncle now? But he’s my age! Does this mean I get extra allowance from him during the Lunar New Year?!"

Xiao Yichen, the Second Prince, snapped his fan shut, the sadistic, calculating smile on his face wavered for the first time.

The political and social dynamics he loved to manipulate had just been upended by a drunken hermit. "A Martial Uncle," Yichen mused, a dark, dangerous chuckle escaping his lips. "How wonderfully taboo, but he is also my Royal uncle anyway, so it’s not a problem for me. With this, he built an impenetrable fortress of seniority around himself."

In the shadows, Yan Lie, the Demon Lord, threw his head back and roared with laughter.

He didn’t care about sect hierarchy, but he appreciated absolute chaos. "Grandmother indeed!" Yan Lie laughed, slapping his thigh. "He wasn’t lying! He actually outranks them all now!"

But the most devastating reaction belonged to the Ice Genius.

Xie Wangchen stood alone near the edge of the terrace.

His Master, Elder Qin, had tried to take Ji’an away.