The Sovereign Lord had other issues to deal with. A most pressing concern required his necessity to attend this tournament: he needed his wife to change her mindset about cultivation. He needed Li Meirong to practise diligently in order to attain godhood, and had even gone so far as to attempt to coerce her into joining this dull, boring mortal competition.

Furthermore, even if Li Meirong would win the tournament and acquire the pill, it would do her no good, since she wasn't at the right level to use it.

The reason which motivated his actions more than anything else, was his impatience. While he was known to be tolerant, when needed, when it came to his wife, he did not possess the patience required to wait for who knows how long for her to decide to achieve immortality.

Bai Qingyue knew Li Meirong had an inherently lazy disposition, and that she enjoyed living her life peacefully, with as much leisure as she could possibly afford. Asking a woman like that to push herself to the limit, to battle time and time again, was unheard of.

When it came to Li Meirong, his expectations (particularly in regard to the matter at hand) were not very high. He doubted his wife would show any interest in ever joining a battle tournament if she were not forced into attending.

Yet in spite of his assessment of his wife's personality, she had seemed peculiarly motivated ever since Bai Qingyue had started training his little mortal wife. For reasons unknown to him, Li Meirong's enthusiasm to train had further encouraged his belief that his reasoning was just, and that his plan would yield positive results.

That being the case, it did not mean that he would have his wife trouble herself over useless endeavours. First and foremost, he would wipe out the weak competitors who would only be a waste of Li Meirong's time and energy. Only when the long-awaited moment arrived – the commencement of the final battles – would Bai Qingyue stay on the sidelines, where he would secretly ensure her success.

Thinking of the previous night's delights, he also knew Li Meirong would be sorely in need of rest. What sort of husband would he be if he tortured his wife all night, and then sent her off to battle at dawn?

No, he would much rather torture her every night and fight in her stead, every single time.

However, in order for mortals gain power quickly, they must hone their skills and compete with others at their level, or against those with a power far greater than theirs. So, battle they must.

Thus, when the moment would come for the tournament's final competitors to present themselves, Bai Qingyue would have to allow Li Meirong to enter the ring and prove her worth. He would also once again have to refrain from touching her for a while.

Not touching his little wife proved much easier said than done. After experiencing such untold pleasure, it was much harder to refrain from pursuing it.

Bai Qingyue's every waking thought led him to envision Li Meirong writhing beneath him, moaning his name. After tasting her addictive sweetness, the need to have her had become ten times worse.

He frowned downwards, assessing the blue sect robe clinging to his tempting figure. It revealed a tad too much for his liking. The sash hung a little too loose around his waist, and the cloth was uncomfortably tight around his currently ample chest. He would have to reprimand his wife, to remind her to wear more modest clothes in the future, and to ensure that her collar properly covered her enticing, milk-white neck.

It felt a bit unsettling for Bai Qingyue to stride forward while shapeshifted into the form of his own wife, but this was definitely not the worst he had done in the long, long years he had lived.

"Sister Meirong!" An obnoxious voice called from behind him.

Bai Qingyue glanced back, his small luscious lips forming a wry smile. This was also an excellent opportunity to get rid of a collection of pesky flies.