Yu Xiaogang's Wisdom

"Truly... disappointing." She furrowed her delicate brows slightly. Her voice was calm and flat, yet like an icy steel needle, it pierced through the uproar of the entire arena.

It brought with it a suffocating pressure. "I had thought that in this land of chaos, I might encounter someone worth... a serious glance."

Her right hand rose again. Purple-black Soul Power gathered and stretched wildly in her palm, taking the form of a grotesque Death Scythe in the blink of an eye, its blade flowing with ominous purple light.

The cold tip of the scythe, like a serpent's tongue, pointed with perfect precision at the Human Cocoon's heart. That concentrated speck of purple radiance emitted a deathly aura capable of extinguishing Life Force.

"Choose." Bibi Dong's voice was not loud, yet bolstered by Soul Power, it was branded clearly into the depths of every spectator's soul, carrying an indisputable final judgment.

"Surrender immediately, or..." Her gaze swept over those eyes, nearly bursting from extreme terror, as the scythe tip advanced the slightest fraction. "I will crush your consciousness completely and turn you into a... useless thing that can only breathe."

Among Spirit Hall's younger generation, she had no equal.

Yet that glory brought with it a loneliness that seeped into her bones, along with an indescribable emptiness.

This time, she had led the team to Litang Great Soul Arena, far from the heart of Spirit City and infamous for its bloodshed and chaos. Beyond completing the mission to obtain a Gold Soul Master Badge, did she not also harbor a faint hope deep in her heart?

She had hoped to encounter some strange and extraordinary Spirit Skills, opponents with wildly different styles—perhaps even someone who could make her feel the slightest threat and force her to take things somewhat seriously.

Yet reality still gave her its cold answer.

Invincibility itself was a... curse.

"Mm... mm..." The Human Cocoon at her feet twisted futilely, its mouth opening and closing beneath the spiderwebs.

"Oh." Bibi Dong seemed to remember only then, her tone carrying a trace of almost mocking realization. "I forgot. You cannot speak."

Her wrist, holding the scythe, turned lightly with a motion nearly imperceptible to the naked eye.

The cold scythe tip, like the most precise carving knife, casually sliced across the spiderwebs wrapped around her opponent's head.

"Riiip!"

A tear appeared, revealing a face twisted and flushed red from suffocation and terror.

"Sur—render—!!! I surrender!! I admit defeat! I admit defeat, aaahhh—!!!"

A shriek warped by terror, mixed with crushing fear and sobbing despair, erupted from the opening and rang across the arena.

Bibi Dong remained expressionless.

Not even the slightest ripple stirred in the depths of her purple eyes.

Her five fingers loosened.

The grotesque Death Scythe instantly dissolved into specks of purple light and vanished into the air.

At the same time, the purple-black web binding her opponent melted away soundlessly, like ice and snow beneath sunlight.

She did not even spare another glance for the opponent sprawled limply on the ground, greedily gasping for air as though their spine had been pulled out, tears and snot streaming down their face.

Her faint wine-red hair traced a cold, decisive arc as she turned sharply.

Her steps were unhurried, as though she had merely brushed a speck of dust from her sleeve, and she walked straight toward the stairs at the edge of the arena.

Behind her, the referee's declaration—filled with immense shock and awe—finally exploded like a belated tide:

"Winner—Weaver of Fate Goddess!"

It proclaimed a complete and utter—crushing defeat!

Zhao Linchuan swept a cold gaze over the group of opponents beneath the arena, all of whom Bibi Dong had effortlessly crushed. An imperceptible sneer curled at his lips.

No matter how many pieces of trash there were, they could not shake a true mountain.

His sharp gaze pierced through the clamor and locked precisely onto the VIP seats—there, a man clutching a thick book so tightly that his knuckles had turned white was staring fixedly at the purple figure descending from the arena.

Yu Xiaogang!

That face twisted with excitement, that undisguised, almost greedy heat in his eyes, allowed Zhao Linchuan to confirm his identity at once.

At this very moment, the threads of fate were about to entwine themselves around that astonishingly gifted young woman.

"Damn it! It's over again!" Yu Xiaogang nearly shattered his teeth from clenching them, his fingernails digging deeply into the cover of Martial Soul Theory.

He had been lying in wait here for three entire days!

On the first day, he had been horrified by her disregard for the rules—fighting five consecutive matches.

On the second day, he had been shaken by her inhuman endurance—ten matches, including fights to the death!

Driven by intense curiosity and hidden ambition, he had used the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan's pitiful connections in an attempt to pry information out of the Soul Arena.

All he received was one cold warning—"She belongs to Spirit Hall."

Yet what had nearly caused his plans to collapse completely this morning was the man hidden in the corner of Bibi Dong's accompanying group, a man who looked like a woman—Chrysanthemum Douluo Yue Guan!

He had once caught a distant glimpse of that "unique" Titled Douluo during a clan ceremony!

That uniquely "seductive" aura was far too recognizable!

The terrifying pressure of a Titled Douluo instantly extinguished all of his frivolous thoughts, but it also ignited the tiny flame of his "wisdom."

Strength, Martial Soul form, a Titled Douluo escort... the answer was obvious—Spirit Hall's Saintess, Bibi Dong!

That realization made Yu Xiaogang's heart pound wildly!

The purpose of his departure from the clan this time was Spirit Hall's vast, ocean-like archive of secret texts!

That was his only hope of shedding the label of "trash," writing books and establishing theories, and earning the hollow reputation of a "Grandmaster"!

But Spirit Hall's library was hardly something an ordinary person could lay their hands on.

Yet now, a golden key had been placed right before him!

If he could get close to this Saintess... Yu Xiaogang had blind confidence in his armchair "theories" and the superficial "methods" he had picked up while frequenting brothels in his early years.

He imagined using carefully crafted "guidance" to pique her interest and even... win her heart.

As long as he latched onto this connection, wouldn't Spirit Hall's library be his for the taking?

"Grandmaster of Martial Soul Theory," "Teacher of Titled Douluo"... those dazzling titles seemed to be beckoning to him already!

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. Yu Xiaogang's cheeks flushed with a sickly red, and his breathing grew heavy and rapid. His gaze, fixed on Bibi Dong's back, brimmed with naked calculation and greed, as though she were not a person, but a golden key leading to power and fame.

Over and over, he rehearsed in his mind how to "casually" point out some "minor" flaw in Bibi Dong's Spirit Arena match, using it as an excuse to strike up a conversation.

"Tch..." From afar, Zhao Linchuan let out a faint scoff, his disdain undisguised. "With that little bit of ability, he still dares to daydream?"

"Strength?"

"Looks?"

"Worthless in every way!"

"That farting man's little schemes sure are loud." He shook his head, his gaze icy. "Looks like I'll have to let Her Highness the Saintess see something truly interesting first."

Zhao Linchuan no longer looked at Yu Xiaogang's nauseating display. Turning around, his figure melted into the crowd like a ghost charm, heading straight for the depths of the Spirit Arena's backstage area—the office of Francis, the person in charge.

No knock. No announcement.

Zhao Linchuan lightly brushed his fingers over the intricate door lock.

Sizzle!

A barely visible blue arc flashed, and the lock's interior instantly melted down.

The heavy wooden door slid silently inward.

Inside the office, the air was thick with gloom.

Francis clutched at his sparse hair with both hands. His bloodshot eyes nearly burst as they glared at the bloodstained financial reports spread across the desk, his face ashen as though he had just crawled out of a grave.

"Damn it... damn it all!!!" A low growl like that of a trapped beast rose from his throat. "How could she... how could she be this strong?!"