The heavy carved wooden door slammed shut behind her.
Deep within the Pope's imperial bedchamber, the air was not filled with the anticipated severity and oppression. Instead, it carried an... expensive fragrance.
Zhu Zhuqing stood in the center of the hall, her hands instinctively shielding her chest, her body taut.
She had thought the special training would mean facing the siege of ten Ten Thousand Year Soul Beasts, or being thrown into a deathtrap where only slaughter ensured survival. After all, her godmother's teaching style had always been known as, "As long as it doesn't kill you, train until it does."
"Take off your clothes."
Bibi Dong's voice drifted out from behind layers of gauze curtains, lazy yet beyond question.
Zhu Zhuqing's pupils contracted slightly.
So it really is impact-resistance training? Or some kind of medicinal bath that requires bare skin to temper the body?
She bit her lower lip, her fingers trembling as she undid the buttons of her leather clothes. To grow stronger, to keep up with that person's footsteps, this little embarrassment was nothing.
A jade-like hand lifted the gauze curtain.
When Zhu Zhuqing saw the sight before her, she froze in place, her hand unfastening buttons awkwardly suspended in midair.
How was this a torture chamber?
This was clearly every woman's ultimate dream across the continent—a super-sized wardrobe large enough to fit half of the Star Luo Imperial Palace.
Hundreds of Crystal Display Cabinets lined the walls. Warm Soul Guide Light shone upon the flowing light of the fabrics, refracting dazzling halos.
On the left was an elegant custom-made palace dress section, while the right held playful short skirts. In the middle even hung several... peculiar outfits with pitifully little fabric, yet covered in diamonds.
"What are you standing there for?"
Bibi Dong held a Measuring Tape, her eyes burning with the fervor of a mad scientist about to dissect a rare Soul Beast.
She circled Zhu Zhuqing twice, clicking her tongue.
"Nine years old... this rate of development is simply unreasonable."
The Measuring Tape in Bibi Dong's hand coiled around Zhu Zhuqing's waist like a spirit snake, then immediately slid upward.
"Your bust has grown another three inches? All the previous molds have to be thrown out!"
Bibi Dong frowned tightly, as though she had encountered an academic dilemma. "That waist-to-hip ratio is too outrageous. Ready-made clothes on the market simply can't bring out the effect—they'll make you look bulky."
Zhu Zhuqing's face was scarlet. She covered her chest tightly with both hands, her voice as faint as a whisper. "God... Godmother, weren't we supposed to be doing special training?"
"This is special training!"
Bibi Dong straightened up. At some point, the scepter in her hand had been replaced with a thick fashion magazine (Martial Soul Hall Internal Special Edition).
Her expression was solemn, as if she were discussing Martial Soul Core Competitiveness.
"As the face of Spirit Hall and the Holy Son's future... ahem, partner, your sense of style must be up to standard! You wear those ugly clothes all day long, without the slightest sense of beauty!"
"But... those clothes are convenient for fighting..." Zhu Zhuqing protested weakly.
"Shut up."
With a grand sweep of her hand, Bibi Dong's domineering presence overflowed. "A true strong person can crush a Titled Douluo's skull even while wearing High Heels! Come here, try this one first!"
Over the next hour.
Zhu Zhuqing experienced a torment even more terrifying than Hell Special Training.
She was like a dress-up doll without emotions.
"This pink Puffy Skirt won't do. It's too sweet—it completely covers up that cool aura of yours and makes you look like some silly innocent girl."
"This red one? No, that won't do either. It's too gaudy. You're a cat, not a vixen."
"This one..."
Bibi Dong held up a Lace See-through Outfit with very little fabric and measured it against Zhu Zhuqing's body.
Zhu Zhuqing was so frightened that she retreated three steps, pressing her back to the wall and shaking her head desperately. "Absolutely not this one! I won't wear it even if you beat me to death!"
Bibi Dong sighed regretfully and casually tossed aside the outfit that could make a Titled Douluo's nose bleed.
"You clueless little girl. This is called 'pure desire,' understand?"
She walked to the deepest part of the wardrobe.
There stood an independent crystal display cabinet, within which floated a moon-white long dress.
There was no elaborate lace, nor any exaggerated skirt.
The entire dress was woven from cloud brocade blended with Ten Thousand Year Ice Silkworm Silk, its water-ripple patterns flowing beneath the light.
Simple, yet luxurious to the bone.
"Go, put it on." Bibi Dong's eyes were as gentle as if she were looking at her first love. "I designed this in my youth. Unfortunately... back then, I wasn't worthy of such purity."
Outside the Papal Palace.
On the steps.
Qian Mo had a blade of Blue Silver Grass hanging from his mouth as he listlessly counted the ants on the ground.
"One, two, three..."
Beside him.
"Screech—screech—"
A teeth-grinding friction sound rang out rhythmically.
Qian Renxue sat cross-legged on the ground, holding a top-grade whetstone as she madly sharpened her Angel Holy Sword.
Golden sparks flew in all directions.
Her breathtakingly beautiful face was written all over with, "I'm irritated. Don't provoke me."
"Sis." Qian Mo spat out the Blue Silver Grass. "That's a divine weapon. Keep sharpening it and it'll turn into an embroidery needle."
"What do you know?"
Qian Renxue did not even raise her head, killing intent surging in her eyes. "That woman took your wife... took your little follower inside for so long. She definitely has no good intentions! What if she makes her wear something indecent to seduce you?"
"Screech!"
She viciously ground the blade. "If she dares let you see something you shouldn't, I'll tear this damned hall apart!"
The corner of Qian Mo's mouth twitched.
Sis, you're not worried about me. You're guarding your food, aren't you?
And besides... indecent?
Uncontrollable images surfaced in Qian Mo's mind, and his Adam's apple bobbed unconsciously.
If it really is like that... tearing down the hall can wait a little longer.
Just then.
The heavy doors of the hall let out a deep rumble and slowly slid apart to either side.
A crisp, cool fragrance mixed with the unique scent of high-end fabric drifted out through the gap.
"Mo'er."
Bibi Dong's voice carried a touch of teasing and pride. "Come in and inspect your 'gift.'"
Qian Mo stood up and patted the dust off his backside.
Qian Renxue sprang to her feet, Angel Holy Sword held horizontally before her in a posture as if facing a great enemy.
The two of them looked toward the doorway at the same time.
Before you continue