Mysterious Girl

This time, Qian Lingye had more or less sneaked out of Spirit City.

It was also the first time in his life that he had truly left Spirit City alone.

The carriage jolted along the road, while mountains and rivers unfolded before his eyes.

He saw for himself what the land of Douluo truly looked like: mountains and rivers stretching layer upon layer, villages and towns wreathed in cooking smoke, and the vastly different customs of each region.

He saw it clearly.

At the upper levels, in the imperial courts and among the sects, undercurrents always surged, and scheming and infighting never ceased.

Yet for the ordinary people at the very bottom, life was comparatively peaceful; they could live and work in contentment.

In Qian Lingye's heart, much of that peace was thanks to Spirit Hall.

In the eyes of the empire's powerful elites and the Upper Three Sects, Spirit Hall was a vast, unruly beast that gathered Soul Masters from across the world and wielded power that reached the heavens. It was despotic, a threat, an entity they had to guard against and keep in check.

But to impoverished commoners struggling to put food on the table, Spirit Hall meant something entirely different.

It was the only path for ordinary people to turn their lives around.

They needed no illustrious family background, no clan protection, and no heaps of gold and silver.

As long as they had talent, Spirit Hall would give them resources, status, protection, and a chance to change their fate.

When one person awakened an outstanding Martial Soul, even their entire family could see the clouds part and the sun shine through.

It was like a relatively fair great examination, giving children from humble families a path to climb upward.

Without Spirit Hall, countless children from the bottom of society, like Tang San, would not even have had the chance to awaken their Martial Souls.

Yet, with bitter irony, the very person who would one day tear this vast hall apart and send it plunging into the abyss of destruction was the one Spirit Hall had lifted up with its own hands.

Whenever Qian Lingye thought of this, a jumble of emotions welled up in his heart.

His sense of belonging to Spirit Hall did not stem from Bibi Dong alone.

From the bottom of his heart, he believed in the principle hidden beneath its shell of power.

But the apocalyptic vision of heavenly secrets that Ning Xuanyuan had projected across the sky by burning his divine soul now weighed on his heart, impossible to dispel.

In the vision, black mist had shrouded heaven and earth, mountains and rivers had crumbled, and all living things had been plunged into misery. Atop a mountain stood a pitch-black figure with its back turned, looking down upon the world as ten thousand beasts bowed their heads and heaven and earth overturned.

Everyone was certain that figure was his future self.

Qian Lingye knitted his brows, deep confusion surging in his heart.

Was that really the ending awaiting him?

Would he bring this world to utter destruction?

Searching his heart, he knew he could not do such a thing, nor did he have the slightest desire to go that far.

Destroying the entire world and slaughtering countless innocent lives... just how deranged would someone have to be to make that choice?

That was a thought only a madman would have.

Yet that vision of heavenly secrets was a prophecy Ning Xuanyuan had obtained by burning his divine soul. It was by no means a wind blowing from an empty cave.

So where exactly did the problem lie?

Would the old darkness origin within him completely consume him in the future, making him lose sight of his true self?

Or had another, hidden conspiracy been lurking behind all this from the very beginning?

Qian Lingye gazed at the fields flying past the carriage window, his thoughts in turmoil. For the moment, he could find no answers at all.

[Ding! Special soul energy detected. Soul Ring fusion available!]

Suddenly, a system notification rang out.

Qian Lingye froze, then lifted a corner of the carriage curtain and peered outside.

Voices clamored along both sides of the street. Ahead, a vast, dense crowd was gathering around a raised platform: a temporary open-air auction house.

Special soul energy... could an opportunity be waiting in a place like this?

Qian Lingye muttered to himself, a trace of curiosity appearing between his brows.

He stopped the carriage by the roadside, squeezed through the bustling throng alone, and slipped into the crowd of onlookers.

A dazzling array of lots filled the wooden platform: polished Soul Bone fragments, aged spirit herbs, and destitute Soul Masters who had been reduced to slavery.

Qian Lingye's gaze slowly swept over the items one by one, but the system notification in his mind continued to vibrate only faintly, without any strong resonance.

He frowned slightly. Had the system detected it wrong?

Just then, two burly men pushed an iron cage up from below the platform with a creak.

The cage was covered in rust, its iron bars chilling to the bone. A tiny figure was curled up inside.

The girl's ice-blue dress had long since been torn to rags, the fabric ripped in many places and covered in dust and mud. Her long black hair clung messily to her cheeks.

She hugged herself tightly, her shoulders shrinking slightly and her head buried between her knees, leaving only a small portion of her pale, delicate jawline visible.

At first glance, there was not the slightest fluctuation of energy around her, nor any Soul Power circulating within her. She seemed to be nothing more than an ordinary mortal girl who had suffered greatly.

Yet even in her disheveled state, her exquisitely beautiful looks, a gift from heaven, could not be concealed. Her long eyelashes drooped slightly, and she looked as pitiful as a frightened little animal.

Qian Lingye had seen countless beauties. Hu Liena, Zhu Zhuqing... every one of them was a peerless beauty.

Yet compared with the girl before him, they all paled in comparison.

She was like a white lotus, untainted by a speck of dirt despite growing in a filthy pond.

So much so that when his gaze fell on her, he lost himself for a moment.

[Ding! Target locked! Source of special soul energy confirmed!]

[Extremely high compatibility! Can be used for deep Soul Ring fusion!]

The system's notifications abruptly became sharp and urgent, exploding one after another in his sea of consciousness.

Qian Lingye's heart jolted.

It was her.

He betrayed nothing outwardly, quietly clenching his hand while maintaining the leisurely appearance of someone watching the excitement, observing from within the crowd.

Onstage, the auctioneer, his face thick with flesh, slammed a gavel hard against the wooden railing. His grating voice rang throughout the venue: "Everyone, take a good look! Our next lot! Never mind any other talents-just look at that face. You won't find another like it anywhere under heaven! No Soul Power, no Martial Soul, just an ordinary girl. Whether you buy her as a maidservant or for some other purpose is entirely up to you gentlemen! Starting bid: one thousand Gold Soul Coins!"

As soon as he finished, the crowd below erupted in commotion.

The gazes of many nobles and local magnates present were fixed on the little girl in the iron cage, their eyes gleaming with undisguised greed. They did not care in the least whether she had a talent for Soul Power; her looks alone were enough to make many willing to toss away a fortune.

"One thousand five hundred Gold Soul Coins!"

"Two thousand!"

"Three thousand!"

Bids rose one after another, climbing ever higher.

Many men shoved one another and whistled obscenely, their words full of sordid designs.

Some were determined to have her, while others joined the clamor purely to watch the excitement.

"That little girl is so pretty, she'd be worth it just to keep at home and look at!"

"Who cares if she has any skills? What does a beauty need skills for?"

The price shot up to eight thousand Gold Soul Coins, and most people had begun to hesitate. That was an outrageous price for an ordinary girl with no abilities whatsoever.

Just as the bidding was about to stall, a young man's clear voice, neither loud nor soft, pierced the clamor and rang throughout the auction grounds.

"Fifty thousand."

(P.S. Guess who the girl is.)