Bibi Dong: Why Has No One Answered My Private Message?

By daybreak, the preview post for the "Complete Record of the Battle of Godhood" that Lan Xuanyu had thrown out the night before had automatically been pinned to the top of the public screen by the Group Hub.

A ring of flame patterns blazed around the post, and a crimson-gold seal appeared above it.

[Group Hub: The research post "Complete Record of the Battle of Godhood" has been detected to involve the course of the First Era's fortune and the changing of divine positions. It has officially been designated a "volume-level nuclear bomb topic"!]

When the gold-edged post appeared, its golden light illuminated the entire public screen of the Myriad Ages Douluo Group.

The cross-era spectators who had kept watch all night went completely wild. New applications flooded the waiting-list channel, packing it full, and the Group Hub flashed a succession of collapsible notifications.

"The spectator gallery is boiling over ×1580!"

The counter shot straight to a new high since the spectator gallery had opened.

In the new quarters at Perching Swan Academy, Qin Zhaoye sat down at his desk and reached out to activate the newly completed Tier Three special-session host console.

He took his time tapping the master-of-ceremonies panel a few times, then posted the schedule and the iron rules for the special session together at the top of the public screen.

[Group owner: The volume-level nuclear bomb topic has been approved, and the special-session host console will be put into use today. The topic will be locked at the start, and the microphone will be passed in order. Going off topic will result in an automatic mute for thirty breaths. Spectators may watch but not interject; violators will lose their seats.]

With that, the host console had made its debut, and another line of golden settlement text appeared on the scroll.

[Golden report: Preliminary publicity for the approval of a volume-level nuclear bomb topic. Group owner credited with 300 Talking Capital.]

Below the public screen, the three descendants had long since been unable to contain themselves.

[Ten-Thousand-Year Melon Field Contractor: A gold-edged post! Even the Group Hub has marked it as a volume-level nuclear bomb topic. I knew it-my three years of hard work couldn't have been for nothing!]

[Ancestral Precepts Recitation Champion: That's one hell of a showing. There are even more than fifteen hundred people in the spectator gallery now! Brother Melon Field, just how much explosive stuff did you put in there?]

[The Bystander Sees Clearly: Because it involves the changing of divine positions and the overthrow of major powers, the preview alone has already set the nerves of several First Era factions on edge.]

In a dormitory at Nuoding Academy, Tang San stared blankly at the words "Battle of Godhood" on the gold-edged post for quite a while. He recalled the earlier research post about Bibi Dong's defeat and death before slowly typing a line on the public screen.

[Tang San: How many years from now will this Battle of Godhood take place?]

[Ten-Thousand-Year Melon Field Contractor: Don't be in a hurry, Tang Sect Founding Ancestor. Once the special session kicks off, I'll nail the timeline of the whole affair, from beginning to end, to the wall one post at a time!]

The group was still bustling with discussion about the schedule. Meanwhile, in the Pope's Palace in Spirit City, Bibi Dong sat alone on her high seat, the screen of light before her reflecting her cold, stern face.

Although her earlier private message asking about that lock had sunk like a stone into the sea, this matter was different. The "Complete Record of the Battle of Godhood" pointed directly to her own ending. How could she sit by and watch it be laid bare before the whole group?

Bibi Dong stared coldly at the group owner's blank profile. Her finger paused over the private-message box for a moment before she typed a line and sent it:

"I order you to take down this post. Name your terms."

As soon as the message went out, she stared at the word "order" for a moment, her brows knitting slightly. With a tap of her fingertip, she selected "recall."

She took a deep breath and typed another line, adopting a much less imperious tone this time, then pressed send again:

"Suppress the post about the Battle of Godhood and do not publish it. Whatever price you want, I can discuss it with you."

In the new quarters at Perching Swan Academy, the private-message notification at the bottom right of the scroll flashed. Qin Zhaoye glanced down and saw "The other party recalled a message," followed by a second message offering terms.

He raised a brow but didn't think much of it. He tapped the private-message bar lightly, and the status immediately changed to "read."

But Qin Zhaoye didn't reply with a single word. Instead, he opened the special-session host console's notice board and posted the status of the private conversation at the top of the public screen, concealing only its specific contents.

[Host console notice: Member "Bibi Dong" has sent the group owner a private message to discuss a matter. Current status: Read by group owner, pending.]

The matter was public; the contents remained confidential.

Once that read-and-pending status was displayed, the counter below the public screen surged upward again.

"The spectator gallery is boiling over ×1890!"

[Ancestral Precepts Recitation Champion: Holy shit! His Holiness the Pope sent the group owner a private message herself to negotiate terms, and he left her on read in front of everyone?!]

[The Bystander Sees Clearly: The Pope took the initiative to send a private message, most likely to negotiate terms. But with it left on read and pending, she failed to secure a bargaining position. The discussion hasn't even begun, and their positions of dominance have already switched.]

In the Pope's Palace, Bibi Dong stared at the golden words "Read by group owner, pending" at the top of the public screen. Her grip on her scepter tightened, but in the end, she didn't post a single word on the public screen.

That evening, in the council hall of the Spirit Hall Suotuo Branch Hall.

He Zhili, the branch hall's chief, stood before his desk, holding an accountability order written in vermilion ink that had just arrived by express delivery from Spirit City.

The order stated clearly: The search and seizure at the western outskirts' hidden cache had come up empty, and the enforcement team's night raid had ended in crushing defeat. Not only had the branch hall failed to capture anyone, it had also rewritten the report of its defeat as "fell into a ravine during a night patrol" to deceive its superiors. Branch Hall Chief He Zhili was now ordered to redeem himself by meritorious service, thoroughly investigate the suspect and recover the stolen cache; failure to meet the deadline would be severely punished! Furthermore, Spirit City had dispatched a suppression team to Suotuo, to be placed under his command.

He Zhili was a level fifty-five Soul King who had held the position of Suotuo's chief for over a decade. He understood the stakes of officialdom better than anyone.

So there was not a trace of fury on his face. Unhurriedly, he folded the accountability order into thirds and tucked it deep into his sleeve.

"Standing still and waiting for the higher-ups to send someone to arrest me would be a fool's move."

He Zhili turned and gave a low-voiced order to the deacons waiting outside:

"Prepare the seals for recovering stolen goods and come with me to Perching Swan Academy. Since the higher-ups want to see results, we'll seize the top credit for recovering the stolen goods tonight!"

After nightfall, more than a dozen branch hall elites went straight to Perching Swan Academy and blocked its main gate.

He Zhili presented his inspector's iron badge and didn't even bother with pleasantries, leading his men straight into the storeroom in the academy's rear courtyard.

Dean Feng Yanqiu wiped away cold sweat as he went to meet him. "Chief He, using the branch hall's seals so late at night—is there some misunderstanding?"

Qin Zhaoye heard the commotion and also walked unhurriedly to the corridor outside the storeroom, watching the scene coldly.

Without so much as looking at Feng Yanqiu, He Zhili opened the storeroom register and tapped the entry reading "Qin Zhaoye's trunks, placed in storage for safekeeping." Then he pointed at the camphorwood chest in a dedicated cabinet:

"Under strict orders from Spirit City, we are investigating the theft from the western outskirts' hidden cache. Our investigation has found a chest of small Soul Bone items of unknown origin in your academy's storeroom, matching the stolen goods. Men, seal it and take it away!"

Two deacons stepped forward and slapped a recovery seal diagonally across the lid with a smack. In front of everyone, they hoisted the chest of small Soul Bone items onto their shoulders and carried it straight out of the storeroom! Before leaving, they slapped another recovery seal on the storeroom door.

Feng Yanqiu opened his mouth to stop them, but faced with the pressure of He Zhili's level fifty-five Soul King cultivation and his inspector's iron badge, he forcibly swallowed his words.

Qin Zhaoye stood motionless in the corridor. On the day he had moved quarters, Feng Yanqiu had insisted on placing the trunks from his room in the storeroom for safekeeping as well. Unable to refuse, Qin Zhaoye had let him. After all, the fragmentary cultivation-method pages had long since been on his person, and he had merely brought this chest of small Soul Bone items back from the hidden cache along the way. He Zhili was forcibly seizing it under official procedure; if Qin Zhaoye fell out with him now, it definitely wouldn't be worth it.

"Qin Zhaoye, right?" He Zhili patted the accountability order folded into thirds inside his sleeve and said coolly, "The stolen goods will be seized and taken back to the branch hall. As for the man, put him on record."

With that, He Zhili swept his sleeve and strode away, his men carrying the chest with them.

After returning to the branch hall, He Zhili assembled his elites that very night and personally led them out of the city to meet the suppression team from Spirit City.

In the new quarters at Perching Swan Academy, Qin Zhaoye shut the door, unfurled the bronze scroll and pressed the opening countdown on the special-session host console.

On the notice board, a countdown of twelve shichen began ticking down, one notch at a time.

On the door of the rear-courtyard storeroom, the paste on the recovery seal had yet to dry completely.

On the official road outside the city, the suppression team from Spirit City carried torches in a long, unbroken line. He Zhili rode at the very front to meet them, chewing over the words "redeem himself by meritorious service" the whole way.