Chapter 106: Yinyin’s Hundred Brides and the Matchmaking Massacre

Chapter 106: Yinyin’s Hundred Brides and the Matchmaking Massacre Ocean City’s legendary Thousand-Silk Pavilion had seen its fair share of strange events: love potions misfiring during arranged courtships, cursed engagement rings flying off into the sky, and once, a sentient bouquet proposing to three disciples at once. But today? Today, it would witness something unprecedented. The annual Sect Matchmaking Summit was in full swing. Elegant cultivators from over forty sects had gathered under lantern-lit pavilions, clad in their finest silks and spiritual colognes that smelled faintly of thunderclouds and broken hearts. Flutes played softly. Wine was passed. A mood of flirtation and diplomacy hung in the air. And then—Yinyin happened. Ten Minutes Earlier, Inside the Illusion Nexus Lan Yinyin sat cross-legged in her floating courtyard, sipping iced peach nectar and reading a scroll titled "101 Ways to Break a Man Without Lifting a Finger." "I think... today calls for page 87," she mused. A flick of her wrist, a pulse of qi, and the Illusion Nexus trembled. All around her, illusionary versions of herself began to shimmer into being. Dozens. Then hundreds. Each one perfectly crafted, down to the last hairpin and smug smile. Some wore bridal robes. Others had elegant sect gowns. A few wore beach attire for no reason other than to disturb the decorum of conservative sect elders. Yinyin snapped her fingers. "Ladies, your mission is simple: Go forth. Attend the matchmaking event. Seduce. Flirt. Wink. Confuse." Illusion-Yinyin #87 raised a hand. "Do we flirt with Hei Long too?" "No. He’s immune. Also taken. You know the rules." Illusion-Yinyin #26 grinned. "Lin Fan, then?" Yinyin’s smile widened. "Especially Lin Fan." Matchmaking Summit: Now Descending into Madness It started subtle. One Lan Yinyin strolled into the venue, fanning herself coyly and immediately capturing the attention of a dozen heirs from wealthy clans. Then came another. And another. And another. By the time the fifth identical Lan Yinyin showed up—winking at the same confused alchemist prince—panic had started to set in. Lin Fan, disguised as a waiter with a fake mustache named "Shan Lin," nearly dropped his tray of passion-boosting dumplings when he saw her. Then he saw her again. And again. His pupils dilated. His breath quickened. His very soul whispered, Oh no. It’s happening. He turned a corner and saw three Lan Yinyins laughing together. Another round of flute music played. One of the illusions locked eyes with Lin Fan, winked, and mouthed: "You’ll never know which one is real." He screamed. Meanwhile, in the Surveillance Tent The Coalition of Anti-Hei Long Forces, led by Sect Master Zhuge "Petty" Jin, stared at the divination screens in growing horror. "We’re tracking seventeen Lan Yinyins in different quadrants," reported the scrying elder, sweat pouring down his face. "Four are at the dessert table. Three are playing Go with each other. One is... seducing herself???" Another disciple ran in, pale-faced. "Sir! Our facial recognition formation just exploded. It couldn’t handle the similarity. It screamed and self-destructed." Zhuge Jin slammed the table. "WHERE IS THE REAL ONE?!" The tent exploded. Not from an attack—but from a spell designed to overload petty minds. Lin Fan: In His Own Personal Hell Every time he blinked, a new Lan Yinyin appeared. Some called him "darling." Others called him "rebound." One called him "emotional collateral." He ran. He hid. He tried to blend into the decoration by pretending to be a statue of "Lonely Cultivator No. 4." But the illusions found him. One grabbed his hand and whispered, "Maybe in this dimension we end up together." Another leaned in and cooed, "Or maybe you’re just the side character in every universe." He began to weep. Meanwhile, Hei Long Hei Long sat atop a floating lotus nearby, sipping spirit wine with complete serenity. A passing sect elder said, "Your wife’s illusions are causing psychological riots." Hei Long nodded. "She’s thorough." The elder looked uncomfortable. "One of your wife’s illusions just proposed to a demonic dragon." Hei Long raised an eyebrow. "...Which one?" "Number forty-two." He took another sip. "She always did like theatrics." The elder paused. "Aren’t you going to stop this?" Hei Long looked toward the chaos, the screaming, the confused nobles, the disintegrating egos of rival suitors... and smiled. "No." Lan Yinyin, Watching from a Cloud Real Lan Yinyin reclined on a hovering peach leaf, sipping from a long straw, completely invisible to detection spells. "I give him ten more minutes before he starts begging the mirror spirit for dating advice again," she said to her pet illusion fox, Snickers. Snickers sneezed, sneezed again, and then said, "You’re diabolical." She patted his head. "And beautiful." Ten Minutes Later Lin Fan sat alone, cradling his knees, muttering nonsense. He was surrounded by half-eaten spiritual dumplings, a melted ice sculpture, and what appeared to be a holographic projection of Lan Yinyin’s wedding—looping over and over again with a laugh track. From somewhere above, a magical scroll fluttered down. Lin Fan caught it. It read: "Congratulations! You have survived Yinyin’s Thousand-Bride Technique! You are now eligible for a free coupon to a dating therapist. Terms and conditions apply. Soul damage not covered." He fainted. Back in the Spirit Courtyard, Hei Long passed her a tiny illusion-painting of Lin Fan in therapy. "You’re having too much fun," he said mildly. Yinyin stretched. "I’m only getting started." . . . . It started as a joke. A harmless, sect-wide popularity poll organized by a few bored disciples during Spirit Seminar Week. You know, the usual: Best Hair in a Lightning Duel Most Likely to Survive the End Times Without a Weapon Biggest Cultivation Glow-Up Sexiest Voice During Sword Techniques And of course... "Most Emotionally Stable Cultivator." They expected a safe, boring win. Maybe a grandma-tier elder who brewed calming teas and meditated in lava. No one expected Hei Long to win. The announcement came in the form of celestial doves, each one holding a ribbon scroll and honking with divine authority. They spiraled across the skies of major sects, cities, and floating islands, dropping their verdicts with celestial confetti. ✨ "FIRST PLACE: HEI LONG — MOST EMOTIONALLY STABLE CULTIVATOR IN THE CONTINENT" ✨Voted by: 374 Sects, 2 Demigods, and the Mirror of Truth Itself. Lin Fan was watering his despair-lilies when the scroll smacked him in the face. He read it. Paused. Read it again. His hands began shaking. His marble of sanity—the last one—rolled out of his sleeve and fell to the ground.It made the saddest "plink" sound ever heard in the cultivation world. Then shattered. Flashback: How Hei Long Won He didn’t even enter. The voting mirror just automatically nominated him. His profile read: Hei Long (Age: Classified) Married to Lan Yinyin Known for calm swordsmanship, cold composure, and being unbothered in 97 crisis scenarios Once held his wife’s hand in front of 18 exes and said, "Try something. I dare you." Never yelled. Never chased. Never wrote a poem under emotional duress. The Mirror of Truth stared at his face, then stamped a big gold seal:✅ Emotionally Bulletproof. One voter said, "I stabbed him in the thigh once. He complimented my form." Another disciple sobbed, "He handled Yinyin’s 14 staged kidnappings like it was laundry day." Lin Fan, Meanwhile... He was not okay. He hadn’t slept in days. His cultivation robe was wrinkled in seventeen parallel dimensions. His last journal entry read: Day 82. She illusioned herself into marrying him again... inside my dreams. Am I awake? Is this still the matchmaking party? Did someone spike my spirit tea with heartbreak extract? And now... this? He fell to his knees. "No! No! HE’S NOT EVEN A FUNNY KIND OF STABLE—HE’S BORING! HE’S STABLE IN A WAY THAT MOCKS MY ENTIRE EXISTENCE!" A nearby beggar offered him a potato. "Thanks," Lin Fan said blankly, then screamed into the potato. Across the Sects... News spread fast. Hei Long’s image appeared on banners, murals, even floating holograms above city plazas. —A projection of him sipping tea while Lan Yinyin chucked a flaming cake at a fleeing suitor.—A mural of him calmly playing Go while a war raged outside.—A quote plaque: "It’s not indifference. I’m just emotionally efficient." – Hei Long He became a meme. Cultivators lined up to ask for his stoic wisdom. One weeping disciple sobbed, "Senior Hei Long, I caught my crush kissing my nemesis. What do I do?" Hei Long blinked. "Level up." They ascended out of heartbreak instantly. Lin Fan’s Breaking Point: The Interview The Spiritual Cultivation Times held a celebratory interview. Host: "Hei Long, how do you stay so emotionally grounded?" Hei Long: "I married the person I love and mind my own business." Lin Fan: watching this on 348 scrying crystals at onceLin Fan: "...I’m gonna ascend out of spite." Lin Fan’s Plan: Operation Emotion Bomb In a dusty, overcluttered alchemical cave, Lin Fan unveiled a new device: A giant spirit-powered orb with glowing emotional runes and "100% NOT ILLEGAL" scribbled in charcoal. "Behold! The Emotion Bomb!" he declared, to no one. "Once detonated, it will flood a 10-mile radius with feelings so overwhelming even Hei Long will CRY! Or at least FROWN!" He cackled, placed the core inside... ...and it exploded in his face immediately. When he awoke, a sticky note hovered in the air. "Nice try. Try journaling instead." – Yinyin Hei Long Receives Another Award Weeks later, another celestial dove arrived. "Hei Long has now won:✅ Most Emotionally Stable Cultivator✅ Best Deadpan Face in a Crisis✅ Husband of the Year✅ Cultivator Most Likely to Outlive Petty Drama" The award came with a free robe. On the back:"I Don’t React. I Ascend." Hei Long put it on. Yinyin whistled. "You’re starting to enjoy this, aren’t you?" "I’ve always enjoyed annoying him without effort." They high-fived. Final Scene: Lin Fan In a self-built tower titled The Fortress of Eternal Denial, Lin Fan stared at a board of red strings. Pinned in the center was a smiling photo of Hei Long with glowing reviews.Every string led to incidents where Hei Long looked vaguely smug, stable, or unbothered. Lin Fan clutched a vial. "One drop of this, and he’ll feel sadness. Real sadness. Made from pure distilled breakup qi." He uncorked it... And accidentally drank it himself. The next day he was found crying in a duck pond, whispering, "Why does he always win without trying?"