People's Joys and Sorrows Are Not Shared

The sea mist was hazy as Wang Xiao stood at the very front of the warship's deck, his hands gripping the railing with a slight tremble.

He was not only the Deputy Corps Leader of the Imperial Dragon Soul Instructor Corps, but also a retainer of Xu Zihuang's family. The soldiers of the Original Dragon Soul Instructor Corps who had defected alongside him were all direct subordinates of Xu Zihuang's family.

A young man who appeared to be under thirty walked out of the cabin and onto the deck, quietly stopping behind Wang Xiao. He had a rather slender build and an effeminate, delicate face. If not for the obvious male feature at his throat, he could easily have been mistaken for a woman at first glance.

His black long hair was meticulously combed and draped over his shoulders, giving him the dashing air of a refined gentleman. Unlike the soldiers of the Imperial Dragon Soul Instructor Corps, he wore not dark purple Dragon Pattern Armor, but a luxurious White Soul Master Robe.

The young man stepped forward and leaned against the railing beside Wang Xiao, his deep black pupils following Wang Xiao's gaze toward the dark sea surface in the distance.

"Uncle Wang."

"Yaoyang, you really didn't need to come with us. If this is exposed, you'll have no choice but to live as a fugitive like the rest of us. Your family's hereditary title, passed down for a thousand years, will probably be revoked as well." Wang Xiao continued staring into the distant waters, his imposing tiger eyes unusually carrying traces of other emotions.

Yaoyang smiled bitterly and shook his head, though his tone was exceptionally resolute.

"If not for His Highness the Prince and you back then, I wouldn't have survived until now. My family bloodline would have ended with my generation, let alone any hereditary title. If I must flee, then so be it. I've already grown tired of such a peaceful life. I could never repay His Highness the Prince's favor in this lifetime. Now that we are rescuing his only offspring, I simply can't live with myself if I stand by and do nothing."

"If we successfully rescue the Young Master this time, you may not have to abandon your title as Viscount of Yuennan after all."

A trace of recollection flashed through Wang Xiao's eyes. He was not surprised by Yaoyang's attitude. He gave an inscrutable light laugh and patted his shoulder.

Yaoyang's eyes immediately lit up.

"Uncle Wang, you agree to my earlier proposal?"

"Let's talk after we rescue the Young Master."

Wang Xiao waved his hand without giving a definite answer. He then turned and walked over to the soldiers who had long been ready to go.

Meng Cang, who had suffered severe injuries earlier, was conspicuously among them. Under the treatment of a Healing System Soul Master, the external injuries on his body had mostly healed. But such trauma was not something he could recover from in a short time.

Wang Xiao swept Meng Cang with a cold glance, then kicked him out of the formation.

Among these Original Dragon Soul Instructor Corps soldiers, Wang Xiao clearly carried considerable authority. The entire deck was silent. Meng Cang opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately closed it again.

Wang Xiao selected another five men from the formation to remain aboard the warship with Meng Cang. Without another word, he waved his hand and jumped directly from the deck toward the sea.

Yaoyang and the more than forty Original Dragon Soul Instructor Corps soldiers followed closely behind. In the darkness, Soul Power radiance flashed one after another.

Small boats were taken out from Soul Tools, floating one after another on the sea surface.

These small boats were extremely peculiar. They had no sails, and their hulls were long and narrow. Each boat had only three seats.

Strictly speaking, these small boats could be considered Level 3 Soul Tools. Each one contained a Level 3 Propulsion Core Array. As long as Soul Power was injected into them, they could maintain high-speed sailing.

They took turns injecting Soul Power into the boats, ensuring that their own Soul Power remained at its peak while maintaining formation as they sailed toward the island whose outline was faintly visible in the distance.

Yaoyang, who was riding in the same boat as Wang Xiao, suddenly changed. His black long hair scattered in the wind, while his former effeminate temperament became intensely sinister. His body turned illusory, transforming into a pitch-black phantom as thick Black Mist rose beneath his feet. His black eyes also turned blood-red.

It was exceedingly eerie.

One yellow, three purple, and three black Soul Rings—seven rings that exceeded the normal Soul Master configuration—rose one after another from beneath his feet. Though he appeared to be under thirty, he was already a Soul Sage level powerhouse.

As the black Soul Ring in the fifth position shone, he said to the others in a deep voice, "Be careful not to leave the range of my fifth soul skill."

Before his words had faded, the soldiers and the boats beneath their feet vanished from the sea surface one after another. It was as though nothing had happened at all.

Meng Cang's face was full of unwillingness as he heavily punched the deck, looking deeply frustrated.

Among the soldiers left aboard the warship, a youth who appeared to be seventeen or eighteen hurriedly crouched down to help Meng Cang up. His honest face, which bore an eighty-percent resemblance to Meng Cang's, showed a hint of dissatisfaction.

"Father, you clearly rendered great service this time. It's truly unfair for the Regiment Commander to treat you this way."

His dissatisfaction was not only on behalf of his father, but also himself.

He had originally wanted to show off his skills, yet his first mission after joining the Imperial Dragon Soul Instructor Corps had ended like this. It was impossible for him not to have feelings about it.

Upon hearing his son Meng Lang's words, the frustration on Meng Cang's face vanished completely. He stared, abruptly raised his head, swung his right arm, and fiercely gave his son a slap.

"Bang, bang, bang—" Meng Lang was slapped flying dozens of meters. After crashing onto the deck, he bounced three times in succession before his body ended up pressed tightly against the iron railing. One could well imagine just how powerful that slap had been.

"You bastard!" Meng Cang's chest heaved with rage, tugging at his earlier injuries until he coughed up a mouthful of bloody phlegm.

Meng Lang endured the burning pain in his cheek and body. Looking at his father in rage, he lowered his head in both fear and grievance.

Only after calming down for a long while did Meng Cang hold his forehead and sigh at Meng Lang. "Didn't you notice that, apart from Old Cheng, all the people the Regiment Commander left behind haven't broken through Level 50?! Your Soul Power is only at Level 40, and you haven't even obtained your fourth Soul Ring. What could you possibly do if you went with them?! You'd only be a burden. There are troops from two Soul Engineer Corps over there. The West Sea Soul Engineer Corps may not compare to our Imperial Dragon Soul Instructor Corps, but it is still one of the Sun Moon Empire's few Elite Soul Engineer Corps."

"Enough, Old Meng. Meng Lang is just young and impulsive. Weren't we the same back then?"

The other five soldiers who had been left behind were all rather old. One of them hurriedly tried to smooth things over, walking over to help Meng Lang up. It was Old Cheng.

"Old Cheng, don't speak up for this bastard."

Meng Cang still glared viciously at Meng Lang, but with these old comrades who had gone through life-and-death struggles with him for decades stepping in, it was not easy for him to flare up again.

Meng Lang rose to his feet and touched his swollen cheek, his face full of resentment.

He had an honest personality, but that did not mean he was stupid. At this point, he naturally took the easy way out and did not dare to provoke his father's bad luck again.

In the first-floor hall of the castle, illuminated by Soul Guiding Lamps, Xu Zihuang silently sat in the central seat, savoring fragrant juice squeezed from fresh fruit that had just been shipped in from the Sun Moon Empire's heartland. Seated in the upper left seat beside him was Haixiao, while the upper right seat was occupied by Regiment Commander Yu Yun of the Lan Hai Soul Engineer Corps, who had escorted those one hundred noble misses here.

It was a Soul Engineer Corps formed by the West Sea Border City of the Sun Moon Empire.

The soldiers' standards were uneven, far inferior to Haixiao's West Sea Soul Engineer Corps. There were only one hundred personnel as well.

Though Regiment Commander Yu Yun was several decades older than Haixiao, his cultivation had only just broken through to the Soul Sage level, and even that had relied on medicine assistance. He would likely stop here for the rest of his life. Before Haixiao, a Rank 8 Soul Engineer, his attitude was exceptionally humble.

Xu Zihuang propped his chin on his right hand and looked up. The entire hall was filled with fluttering beauties. Though the Noble Misses were chatting amongst themselves, he knew that their attention was actually focused entirely on him.

"Hmph." He let out a self-mocking light laugh in his heart. The scene before him reminded him of the time before he had been exiled to this island.

Back then, he had still been the only son of a prince whose power overshadowed all others. The great nobles of the Sun Moon Empire had gone to every length to send their legitimate daughters to his residence, all to find an opportunity to approach him and seek that minuscule chance of a marriage alliance.

How similar it was to the current scene—yet his circumstances in these two instances were completely different.

The Noble Misses in the hall were either cold and alluring or pure and lovely, always doing their utmost to display their best side before him at seemingly unintentional moments.

But people's joys and sorrows were not shared. Xu Zihuang only found them noisy.

Still, in order to satisfy his cousin Xu Tianran, he put on the appearance of making his selection.

Perhaps, as Haixiao had said before, he could keep all of these Noble Misses. But that would not suit the personality he had displayed in the past.

To avoid any unexpected complications, he only intended to choose ten of them.

Naturally, he would choose according to his own preferences. After all, there was no need for him to wrong himself.

The beginning might be a little slow, but I can guarantee that the protagonist will take off after ten chapters. Honestly, I only started writing this because there weren't any good Douluo Dalu II fanfics left to read. To be frank, I'm a little tired of those assembly-line Douluo fanfics where the protagonist transmigrates in the first chapter, awakens their martial soul in the second, and obtains their First Soul Ring in the third. Of course, I'm not saying my writing is particularly good either. This is my first time writing a novel, so I'm still figuring things out, and my prose isn't great. I just wanted to write out the ideas in my heart. I really like the Douluo setting. I estimate this book will probably run for more than two million words. The protagonist's personality also isn't the saintly doormat type. He comes from the imperial family, so he still needs to have that air of superiority. He's probably the kind of talented young nobleman type. Novels are meant to be enjoyable, after all. If things get too suffocating, that's honestly a bit self-abusive, haha. If you like it, please cast a recommendation vote. Discussion is welcome—I usually read the comments after work.