Zhu Family of Star Luo, That Little Girl

Star Luo City, west side.

Zhu Family estate.

As one of the two pillars of the Star Luo Empire, the Zhu estate was usually heavily guarded, with security so tight that even a stray dog passing by wouldn't dare let out a bark.

But at this moment.

The main gates of the Zhu estate were wide open.

Hundreds of guards, servants, and even the current head of the Zhu family, Zhu Zihao, were all kneeling on the ground.

Their foreheads were pressed firmly against the cold bluestone slabs.

Cold sweat had long since soaked through their backs.

No one dared to look up.

The air was as heavy as if it had been filled with lead.

Because parked before them was a "monster" capable of crushing the entire Zhu family.

It was the Pope's Command Flag of the Martial Soul Hall.

The Six-winged Angel shimmered brilliantly under the sunlight, stinging the eyes of those who looked upon it.

The carriage curtain was lifted.

The first to step out were not the main figures.

Instead, it was a man and a woman (in appearance).

The person on the left was bewitching and effeminate, toying with a golden petal between his fingertips.

The person on the right was like a mass of black mist, lacking a physical form, possessing only endless, bone-chilling cold.

Chrysanthemum Douluo, Yue Guan.

Ghost Douluo, Gui Mei.

The terrifying pressure of two Titled Douluo, even with just a sliver leaking out, was enough to make the chest of the Zhu family head, kneeling in the front row, feel stifled, a metallic taste of blood rising in his throat.

"Is this the Zhu family?"

A youthful yet lazy voice drifted from inside the carriage.

Qian Mo stepped onto the footstool respectfully offered by Chrysanthemum Douluo and slowly descended to the ground.

He was dressed in a pristine white-gold ceremonial suit.

His golden hair was brilliant.

His features were as exquisite as an artwork carved by the hands of a god.

He stood in stark contrast to the grim, murderous atmosphere of Star Luo City.

"Too filthy."

Qian Mo swept a glance over the people kneeling on the ground, covering his nose and mouth with an expression of distaste.

The head of the Zhu Family shuddered, burying his head even lower.

"Your arrival, Holy Son, brings... great honor to the Zhu Family."

His voice trembled; he dared not even ask the purpose of the other's visit.

Qian Mo paid no mind to this old dog.

The Sacred Angel Martial Soul within his body was pulsing faintly.

It was a keen detection of the aura of darkness and despair.

In the furthest corner of this luxurious mansion, a faint wisp of black aura was struggling bitterly.

Loneliness.

Coldness.

And a streak of... ruthlessness that was quite admirable.

"Over there."

Qian Mo raised a hand and pointed.

"Lead the way."

The head of the Zhu Family froze for a moment. That was... the abandoned backyard?

"Yes! Yes!"

He dared not say another word, scrambling to his feet to lead the way.

They passed through layers of pavilions and towers.

The further they went, the more desolate it became.

The surrounding weeds grew thicker, and the luxurious decorations gradually vanished.

Finally.

The group stopped in front of a dilapidated little courtyard.

The courtyard walls were mottled, and the wooden gate was rotting away.

Even the quarters for servants were a hundred times better than this.

"This is where the Second Miss of the Zhu Family lives?"

Qian Mo's voice betrayed no emotion.

Chrysanthemum Douluo, Yue Guan, let out a cold sneer and flicked his Orchid Finger.

"BOOM!"

The rotting wooden gate instantly turned into powder.

As the dust settled, the scene inside the courtyard was exposed to everyone's eyes.

There was no sound of crying as they had imagined.

In the center of the yard stood several rough wooden stakes.

A thin, small black figure was using those tender hands to strike at the wooden stakes, over and over again.

Her fingernails had already been torn back.

Fresh blood stained the wood red.

Yet, she seemed unable to feel the pain; her eyes were fierce, and her movements were mechanical and numb.

That was Zhu Zhuqing in her childhood.

Hearing the loud crash, she spun around abruptly, her body tensing like a drawn bow.

It was the instinctive reaction of a wild beast encountering danger.

In that instant, Qian Mo saw her eyes clearly.

Black and white were clearly defined.

There were no tears, only a long-dried despair and the determination to perish together with her enemy.

How could this be a house cat?

She was clearly a little leopard that had been injured, yet was ready to tear out a hunter's throat at any moment.

"Interesting."

The corners of Qian Mo's mouth curled up slightly.

He liked that look in her eyes.

It was far better than those pieces of trash who only knew how to weep and wail.

He lifted his foot, stepped over the wreckage strewn across the floor, and walked toward that corner.

As he drew nearer.

The divine radiance on his body radiated naturally.

The surrounding gloom, dampness, and musty stench were forcibly dispelled in that instant.

Zhu Zhuqing was stunned.

She watched the boy walking toward her.

Clean.

Too clean.

It was as if the sun itself had descended.

She subconsciously hid her bleeding hand behind her back and shrank away.

Feeling inferior.

That was her only thought at this moment.

Qian Mo stopped three steps in front of her.

Looking down at her from above.

"Stop practicing."

"That trashy claw technique—even if you practice it for ten thousand years, you'll still be a failure."

A flash of anger crossed Zhu Zhuqing's eyes as she glared at him.

Qian Mo ignored her hostility.

He extended a hand, fair as jade, with his palm facing upward.

His tone was indifferent, yet carried an unquestionable air of dominance.

"Come with me."

"Be my cat."

"I will give you the power to slaughter everyone who has ever bullied you."

Zhu Zhuqing's pupils constricted sharply.

Slaughter... everyone who has bullied me?

She looked at that hand.

Was it salvation?

Or was it another abyss?

As if possessed, she slowly reached out her small, blood-stained hand.

Just as her fingertips were about to make contact.

An incredibly arrogant roar suddenly exploded from outside the courtyard wall!

"Who dares touch my woman?!"

"This is Star Luo!"

"Even if the King of Heaven himself comes, he still has to crawl before me, Dai Mubai!"

The courtyard wall was violently kicked down.

A golden-haired youth dressed in luxurious clothing, his face full of defiance, charged in with a group of family retainers.

Dai Mubai's eyes were heterochromatic, his face twisted in rage.

He had just heard that a big shot had broken into Zhu Zhuqing's courtyard.

That was his fiancée!

Although he didn't like her, and even wanted to escape from her.

But she was his private property!

Who dared to lay a finger on her?!

However.

When he saw the situation inside the courtyard clearly, especially when he saw the two Titled Douluo standing in the shadows.

Dai Mubai's arrogant expression froze instantly on his face.

Qian Mo withdrew his hand.

He turned around.

He looked at the blonde youth who had burst in like a clown.

His gaze was playful.

"Oh?"

"So this is that... lecherous tiger?"