Return of the Immortal Emperor Daddy

Wu Tian snapped back to his senses, looking with amusement at the fraud, Zhou Butong. He chuckled and said, "Let’s have a fistfight. If you can beat me, I won’t expose you."

"This..." Zhou Butong was stunned. He no longer felt unlucky; instead, it seemed the Goddess of Fortune was finally smiling upon him.

Of all the things this young man could have challenged me to, he chose a fistfight? Heavens, doesn’t he know that’s my specialty? Zhou Butong’s heart pounded with ecstatic joy. Even the Great Heavenly King of Dogs would be defeated if we fought with fists!

"Alright," Zhou Butong blurted out, afraid Wu Tian would take back the offer.

"Remember, if you lose, you have to do whatever I say, old geezer." Wu Tian held out his left fist toward Zhou Butong.

"Alright," Zhou Butong agreed again, even more delighted than before.

Why? Because I can tell he’s not left-handed. He’s not left-handed, yet he’s holding a child with his right arm and challenging me with his left fist? Zhou Butong had never felt so fortunate in his entire life. This young man is practically asking for a beating!

The time to show off had finally arrived. I can hardly wait to begin. Heavens, in all my long life, this is the first time you’ve given me such a perfect opportunity to look impressive!

"Make your move," Wu Tian said.

"Alright," Zhou Butong replied eagerly. Not giving Wu Tian a single moment to back out, he took a step forward, appearing directly in front of him. Spiritual Power surged violently from his fist, unleashing a fierce gale that swept outwards. The people who had been waiting for Zhou Butong to read their fortunes all staggered back, their faces pale with shock.

Wu Tian smiled faintly and raised his left fist, aiming it at Zhou Butong’s formidable punch. Compared to the ferocity of Zhou Butong’s attack, Wu Tian’s left fist looked ordinary, as if it had been simply raised by a common man.

"Don’t worry, young man. I won’t shatter your fist, but I guarantee it will hurt for three days," Zhou Butong said with a faint smile, trying his best to project the dignified air of a Great Grandmaster.

Finally, he moved.

BANG!

The two fists collided under the watchful eyes of the crowd, unleashing an invisible shockwave.

The man everyone expected to see miserably defeated, Wu Tian, stood there calmly with a playful smile on his lips. Meanwhile, the master they had expected to win was now wailing, "Ahhh! Daddy! Mommy!"

"My hand is going to break!" Zhou Butong cried, clutching his right fist. He was in so much pain that tears streamed down his face. He kept whimpering, "Dad, Mom, it hurts so much."

"That’s a bit of an exaggeration," the little one in Wu Tian’s arms said, dumbfounded.

Wu Tian was also speechless. "How can you not bear this little bit of pain? And you call yourself someone who undergoes martial practice?" This level of pain would only last for three days. It was much less severe than a fracture. An ordinary person wouldn’t cry out so dramatically, let alone a practitioner of martial arts.

"What’s wrong with an old man like me crying for his mommy and daddy?" Zhou Butong, the old geezer, retorted between sobs.

"You can," Wu Tian nodded.

But the surrounding crowd was completely stunned.

"Master, what happened?"

"Yeah, where’s his grandmasterly demeanor?"

Zhou Butong’s image was utterly shattered. The crowd felt their faith shatter along with it.

"Come with me," Wu Tian said.

"I know, I know! I’m a man of my word," Zhou Butong snorted. No matter if Wu Tian planned to kill or flay him, he followed along, still wailing as he walked, "Mommy... my hand hurts..."

...

The crowd gradually dispersed. At the same time, an old man arrived with a middle-aged man in tow.

"Strange, where did everyone go? I distinctly heard there was an excellent Fortune Teller here." The elder, Su Peng, furrowed his brow, scanning the area. He couldn’t see anyone who looked like a Fortune Teller.

"Father, I’ll go ask around," Su Kai said. He went to inquire about what had happened and returned to his father’s side shortly after. "Father, the Fortune Teller left with a young man."

"Sigh." Su Peng exhaled deeply. He had wanted to consult the Fortune Teller to see if his son could take first place in the Three Realms’ Array Masters Friendship Competition tomorrow. Who would have thought the Fortune Teller would be gone?

"How are your preparations for the Array Master Guild’s competition tomorrow?"

"I’m fully prepared, Father," Su Kai immediately replied.

Su Peng nodded and pondered for a moment before saying, "I was once the vice president of the Artifact Domain’s Array Master Guild, and Luo Tian was the president. Now, we are both retired and will serve as judges tomorrow. My son, just as I was a vice president, you are one now. You must perform well tomorrow. Only then can you defeat Luo Tian’s disciple in the future and become the true president."

That’s going to be difficult, Su Kai thought, lacking confidence. Luo Tian’s disciple, Zhao Tian, is much better at Formations than I am.

"Don’t worry, son. I’ve already made arrangements. I have my own people among the judges."

"Cheating? Under-the-table dealings?" Su Kai exclaimed. Noticing the gazes of people nearby, he quickly lowered his voice. "Father, how could you do something like that?"

"Just listen to your father. You can’t go wrong," Su Peng snorted when he saw his son’s rebellious expression. "Without resorting to special measures, how long will it take for you to be promoted from vice president to president? Just listen to your old man. I’m never wrong."

"Alright." Since his father had put it that way, Su Kai could only nod in agreement.

"Let’s go back."

Su Peng turned and left with Su Kai following him. He walked with his head held high and his chest out. He had been second to Luo Tian his entire life, but he would not let his son lose to Luo Tian’s disciple. This might be their only chance to get ahead. In Su Peng’s mind, he had to go all-in. As long as his son did as he was told, nothing could go wrong.

...

The next day, in the Xiuyuan Realm’s Royal Palace, Zhou Datong was called out by Dao Feng for Cultivation. Zhou Datong was a formidable cultivator in the Heavenly King Realm. Having lost a bet, he was now the seventh Disciple of Wu Tian’s Heavenless Gate.

Today, the little one had also risen early, asking Qin Yuhan to help her dress up. The style she requested was "majestic and commanding," which genuinely startled Qin Yuhan.

When Qin Yuhan asked why she wanted such a commanding style, the little one explained that today she wasn’t just a child. She was the President of the Xiuyuan Realm’s Array Master Guild, and she would be working alongside Yang Ziwei.

"Is everyone up?" Yang Ziwei arrived at the Royal Palace to escort the little president to the competition venue.

"Do you think your President is a pig who sleeps in?" the little one huffed. "I haven’t overslept a single day since I was born."

COUGH, COUGH, COUGH... Qin Yuhan nearly choked at the little one’s words. When the little one was much younger, her sleep schedule had been completely flipped. Sometimes she would cry her lungs out in the middle of the night. Other times, she would sleep for an entire day, only waking to eat before falling asleep again. She was incredibly difficult to look after during that time.

Yang Ziwei chuckled, then looked at the little one and said seriously, "President, we still have an hour before the competition begins, so we have plenty of time. Now, as your vice president, allow me to brief you on the competition rules. Shall I?"

"Proceed." The little one stood with her hands clasped behind her back. I’m the President today. I have to look the part!