Setting Out

Setting Out

The night was cool as water. Feng Yao sat quietly in the cultivation room, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the Fuxi Qin Strings. During this time, he had clearly sensed the subtle change in Qian Renxue's attitude—from her initial distance and wariness to sharing the progress of the Promotion Tournament with him every day. The change brought an indescribable pleasure to his heart.

Just as he drifted off in thought, the door was gently pushed open. Moonlight spilled inside, outlining a tall, golden figure. But Qian Renxue was different today. A biting chill radiated from her body, and ice seemed to have formed within those brilliant golden eyes.

"What? In a bad mood today?" Feng Yao stopped playing and asked gently.

Qian Renxue took a deep breath, her fingertips unconsciously digging into her palm. "In today's Promotion Tournament, Tang San used the Haotian Hammer to defeat seven opponents in a row." Her voice was as cold as ice. "He truly inherited Haotian Douluo's teachings." The last few words were practically squeezed through clenched teeth, carrying bone-deep hatred.

Feng Yao's pupils contracted slightly, and a complicated emotion flashed through his eyes. He was surprised that Tang San had abandoned his Blue Silver Grass in the individual match and used the Haotian Hammer instead, but he also understood the hatred surging through Qian Renxue's heart—Tang Hao had always been the murderer of her father in her eyes.

"It won't be easy to kill Tang San now." Feng Yao chose his words carefully, his voice calm yet firm. "Since he dared to use the Haotian Hammer openly, Tang Hao must have approved it. With the Finals approaching, acting rashly now—"

Qian Renxue closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the ice in her gaze had melted somewhat. Looking at Feng Yao, a rare softness flashed in her golden eyes. "I understand." Her voice gradually calmed. "I've lurked for so many years. I can afford to wait a little longer."

Qian Renxue tilted her head slightly, golden hair falling over her shoulders and gleaming softly in the candlelight. After hesitating for a moment, she asked quietly, "Aren't you going to ask why?"

Feng Yao raised a brow at her words, a gentle smile appearing on his lips. "Between us, we're long past the point where explanations are needed." His voice was soft, yet resolute.

He looked directly into Qian Renxue's eyes, his gaze as clear as autumn water. "As for the reason... when you're willing to tell me, I'll naturally know."

The candle flame flickered slightly, casting intertwining shadows between them. Qian Renxue stared blankly at the boy before her, who always seemed able to understand her thoughts. The ice in her heart, frozen for so many years, seemed to melt a little more.

"My father... died at Tang Hao's hands." Qian Renxue's voice was very soft, but it carried a bone-chilling coldness.

Feng Yao's fingers paused slightly on the strings as he asked as if casually, "Did you see it yourself?"

Qian Renxue was visibly stunned. The question was like lightning splitting apart the obsession she had clung to for years. Her slender fingers unconsciously tightened around the hem of her clothes. Only after a long while did she slowly shake her head, recalling her grandfather's explanation. "Father was severely wounded by Tang Hao back then. Though he recuperated for many years, he eventually died from his injuries." Her voice gradually deepened. "Even if he didn't die on the spot, this blood debt must still be laid at Tang Hao's feet."

Feng Yao nodded lightly, his fingertips unconsciously brushing the strings. Qian Renxue's words were not without reason—although Bibi Dong had been the one to truly kill Qian Xunji, without the devastating injuries from that battle with Tang Hao, it would have been nearly impossible for Bibi Dong to silently devour a Super Douluo with the power of the Six-winged Angel Martial Soul.

"Tang Hao certainly cannot escape blame." Feng Yao lowered his gaze, hiding the complicated emotions in his eyes. This grudge was too deeply entangled. Even though he knew the truth, he did not dare reveal it rashly. After all, to Qian Renxue, Bibi Dong was both the murderer of her father and her blood-related mother.

"Enough of this. How about I play a piece for Your Highness?" Feng Yao's gentle voice carried just the right amount of warmth, and a reassuring smile rested on his lips.

Qian Renxue paused slightly and looked up into Feng Yao's smiling eyes. That gaze was clear as a spring, as if it could wash away the hatred that had built up in her heart for years. She took a deep breath and nodded faintly.

The zither music drifted through the room. Feeling the tranquility brought by the flowing melody, Qian Renxue's tense shoulders soon relaxed at last.

"Mhm."

As the music came to an end, the two began cultivating with perfect tacit understanding. Her long golden hair gleamed softly in the candlelight. She elegantly adjusted the hem of her clothes and sat cross-legged opposite Feng Yao. Their auras gradually merged, forming a mysterious balance.

The month-long Promotion Tournament passed in the blink of an eye. Most notably, in fourteen fierce matches, the transformed Shrek Academy crushed all opposition, claiming fourteen consecutive victories and taking first place on the standings to win the Heaven Dou Empire division championship. They successively defeated established powerhouses such as Blazing Fire, Plant, Heavenly Water, Thunderclap Academy, and Kamikaze Academy, thoroughly washing away the gloom of the latter stages of the Preliminary Tournament with one resounding victory after another. Tang San's Haotian Hammer, Dai Mubai's domineering White Tiger Martial Soul, and Yu Tianheng's savage Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Spirit all struck fear into their opponents.

At the grand closing ceremony, Xue Ye once again delivered a stirring speech. The elderly emperor swept his bright gaze over the young Spirit Masters below the stage, his voice ringing like a great bell. "But the true test has only just begun! The Finals will be the ultimate battlefield that decides which academy is truly number one on the continent!"

As the emperor could not conveniently travel far, Xue Ye publicly announced that Crown Prince Xue Qinghe would serve as the Heaven Dou Empire's special envoy, fully representing the royal family as a tournament judge. The fifteen qualifying teams, including Shrek, would be personally led by the crown prince and escorted by five hundred elite Royal Knight Order members to Spirit City, where Spirit Hall's headquarters was located.

The three-day rest period passed in an instant. On this day, banners fluttered outside the gates of Heaven Dou City as the massive procession of over a thousand people prepared to depart. The teachers and students of the fifteen academies were full of spirit, while the five hundred elite Royal Knight Order members stood in grim iron armor.

As dawn broke, a vast procession slowly set out along the Official Road outside Heaven Dou City. Dressed in a plain white robe and carrying the Fuxi Qin in his arms, Feng Yao boarded the gilded carriage reserved for the Imperial Dou Team.

Inside the carriage, Dugu Yan sat by the window, her purple hair cascading down like a waterfall. As usual, Yu Feng was joking around with the Shi Mo brothers. When Feng Yao entered, everyone turned friendly gazes toward him.

"Little Feng, over here!" Dugu Yan patted the empty seat beside her. Feng Yao sat down with a smile.

The carriage slowly began moving. The sound of wheels rolling over the bluestone road mingled with the hoofbeats of the Royal Knight Order. Feng Yao lifted the curtain and gazed at the gradually receding outline of Heaven Dou City, a trace of emotion appearing on his face.

"I've never been to Spirit City." Yu Feng leaned over excitedly. "This time, I have to take a good look around."

Feng Yao smiled faintly but did not answer. His gaze passed over the layers of carriages and horses, settling on the luxurious royal carriage at the front of the procession—where Qian Renxue, disguised as Xue Qinghe, was surely filled with countless thoughts as well.

Yu Xiaogang should have already arrived in Spirit City by now, right? he mused inwardly, and an enigmatic curve rose unconsciously at the corner of his lips.

Thinking of the legendary Spirit Hall Pope he was about to meet, Feng Yao felt an indescribable curiosity rise within him. Qian Renxue was already the most stunning woman he had ever seen—the air of nobility and sharpness she possessed was like an unsheathed sword, impossible to stare at directly, yet equally impossible to look away from.

Feng Yao's fingertips gently brushed the fine grain of the wood on the Fuxi Qin, his thoughts drifting away like smoke.

What kind of woman will Bibi Dong be? He carefully pictured the woman standing at the peak of the Spirit Master world. To the world, the Pope who had ruled Spirit Hall for more than twenty years was a sacred, inviolable supreme existence. In Qian Renxue's memories, she was a cold and heartless mother. Yet in Yu Xiaogang's heart... perhaps she would forever remain the gentle girl she had been all those years ago.

People were complicated. Feng Yao smiled soundlessly. The same soul could reflect such vastly different images in different people's eyes—just like the Fuxi Qin in his hands. To enemies, it was a death knell. To those who understood its music, it was a clear spring that cleansed the soul.

Feng Yao suddenly wanted to know what breathtaking charm would bloom when sacred radiance and obsessive gloom, tender affection and ruthless resolve—these seemingly contradictory traits—were gathered within one person.

Of course, some sights were destined to belong only to certain people—just as the same moon was homesickness to a poet, longing to a lover, and nothing more than a lonely lamp along the night road to a solitary traveler. Bibi Dong's truest self perhaps existed only deep within Yu Xiaogang's memories, an exclusive imprint that even time could not erase.

The sound of the carriage rolling over gravel interrupted Feng Yao's thoughts. He looked out the window. For some reason, he suddenly looked forward to meeting the legendary Pope—not to confirm anything, but simply to see with his own eyes what kind of radiance could be forged from a soul repeatedly toyed with by fate.

At that thought, Feng Yao frowned slightly. The complicated conflict between Qian Renxue and Bibi Dong gave him something of a headache.

Feng Yao knew very clearly that the resentment and entanglement between this mother and daughter were far more complicated than they appeared—Bibi Dong had transferred her hatred for Qian Xunji onto Qian Renxue, while Qian Renxue had blamed Bibi Dong for her father's death. This deadlock had been tangled for a full twenty years.

He gently stroked a pattern on the "Fuxi" in his arms and fell into deep thought. If this grudge could be resolved, it would not only free Qian Renxue from hatred but perhaps also allow Bibi Dong to recover the gentle and kind person she once was. But that path was immensely difficult—he had to consider Qian Renxue's sensitive pride while avoiding Bibi Dong's deeply buried pain.

This conflict between mother and daughter was like a perilous mountain blocking the path ahead, and perhaps he was the most suitable person to mediate it.

I have to try. Feng Yao spoke silently to himself. Not only for his own sake, but also for Qian Renxue and Bibi Dong.

"Little Feng, what are you spacing out for? Training is finally over, and even you're ignoring us." Yu Feng pouted and nudged Feng Yao's shoulder with his elbow.

Dugu Yan brushed aside her hanging purple hair and turned toward Feng Yao with curious interest. "What's Little Feng thinking about?"

Feng Yao came back to his senses and smiled. "I heard that Spirit Hall's Pope is a woman. I'm a little curious what sort of person she really is."

Before he had even finished speaking, the atmosphere in the carriage immediately livened up. Yu Feng widened his eyes dramatically. "Right! She's the Female Pope standing at the pinnacle of the Spirit Master world!" The Shi Mo brothers sat up straight in unison, and even the usually silent Oslo cast an interested look over.

On the Douluo Continent, the gender disparity among Spirit Masters had always been enormous. Male Spirit Masters not only had the numerical advantage, but women's innate physical disadvantage also made high-level female Spirit Masters exceedingly rare. For that very reason, women who broke through those shackles and reached the peak of power were often even more eye-catching than male powerhouses of the same level.

"I heard she became Pope before she was forty," Oslo rarely joined the discussion. "To make those arrogant Spirit Hall elders sincerely submit to her, those methods of hers..."

Dugu Yan gave a soft snort, clearly implying something. "If you ask me, any woman who can carve out a bloody path through a pack of men must be far stronger than those stinking men."

Feng Yao's lips curved upward. "With Sister Yan's and Sister Ling Ling's talent, you'll definitely become renowned powerhouses in the Spirit Master world someday."

"Of course~" Dugu Yan lifted her chin proudly, confidence gleaming in her purple eyes as her slender fingers wrapped around a lock of hair.

Ye Lingling's fair face flushed faintly. She pressed her lips together and lowered her head, while the pale pink glow of the Nine Heart Begonia gently rippled around her. She secretly looked up, only to meet Feng Yao's smiling eyes. She hurriedly looked away again, but the tips of her ears grew even redder.

Yu Feng exaggeratedly sighed from the side. "It's over, it's over. All the girls on our team have been sweet-talked senseless by Little Feng's mouth."

The Shi Mo brothers laughed honestly, while Oslo's cold features unconsciously softened as he watched his teammates fool around.

Dugu Yan's eyes gleamed teasingly as she jabbed Yu Feng beside her with an elbow. "If you could learn even thirty percent of Little Feng's skill, would you still have to worry about finding a suitable female Spirit Master as a partner?"

Yu Feng immediately turned red and stammered, "I-I'm focused on cultivation!" This drew a burst of laughter from everyone.

The Shi Mo brothers scratched their heads honestly, while Oslo silently rolled his eyes. There was probably not a noble in all of Heaven Dou City who did not know Yu Feng's reputation.

Feng Yao shook his head with a laugh and comforted him, "Perhaps your fate just hasn't arrived yet."

For a while, laughter filled the entire carriage. Feng Yao's gaze casually swept outside, and he happened to see the curtain of the royal carriage ahead shift slightly, a strand of golden hair flashing in the sunlight.

Elsewhere, Spirit City.

Morning mist shrouded the majestic capital as a man dressed in plain cloth slowly passed through the city gates. His expression was calm, his aura restrained, and his Soul Power was only around level twenty. He was utterly unremarkable among the passing Spirit Masters. The guards merely checked his identity briefly before waving him through.

He did not stop, nor did he rest even for a moment. He headed straight for Spirit Hall's highest center of power—the Papal Palace.

Outside the Papal Palace.

"Stop!" Two palace guard knights in silver armor crossed their halberds to block the way. A hundred elite knights drew their swords at the same time, cold light flashing. "This is a forbidden ground. Trespassers will be killed without mercy!"

Facing more than a hundred palace guard knights far stronger than himself, Grandmaster's expression remained indifferent. He slowly raised a hand, revealing a token in his palm.

The leading knight's gaze sharpened. When he saw the six patterns on the token clearly, his pupils abruptly contracted. He immediately dropped to one knee and said solemnly, "Greetings, Elder!"

All one hundred knights fell to their knees in unison, the clashing of armor ringing out sharply. The ordinarily unremarkable Grandmaster now seemed imposing amid this solemn scene.

"Take me to see the Pope." His voice was calm, yet impossible to question.