When Innocence Entered the Corridors of Power

A cool breeze swept past the window. Beneath the silent night sky, Feng Xinglie stood in the empty room, rubbing the Gold Soul Coin in his hand without a word.

After a while, he turned and looked at the food box Qian Renxue had sent earlier. As if possessed, he walked over and opened it, then picked up a delicate pastry and popped it into his mouth. The crisp crust and sweet filling spread across his palate. Feng Xinglie suddenly let out a cold laugh and tossed the Gold Soul Coin onto the table.

"A few pastries, and you think you can buy me into serving Spirit Hall? What a joke."

Though that was what he thought, the figure of Qian Renxue shielding his mother and standing up to a Titled Douluo's pressure rose in his mind.

"Still, no! She went and ruined my perfect plan all on her own. I haven't even settled the score with her yet!"

He dropped back onto the bed, only to picture Qian Renxue with red-rimmed eyes, wiping away her tears as she thanked him for agreeing to help. Yue Guan's words echoed in his ears:

"The Young Lady said you're her first friend. You were willing to risk your life for her after meeting her only once, so naturally, she won't let you be put in danger."

Irritably, Feng Xinglie patted his cheeks and tried to reason with himself over and over.

"Calm down. Calm down, Feng Xinglie. There are still chances to escape Spirit Hall. At this critical moment, don't you dare do anything stupid. Never mind whether you can handle Tang San and that whole cheat-powered Protagonist Group; Spirit Hall's internal mess alone is enough to give you a headache. Even if you cultivated into a Titled Douluo, could you stand against the Upper Three Sects and the two empires? Could you stand against Sea God Island and the four great academies? Could you stand against the Four Single-Attribute Clans, or even the Sea God and the Asura God King? On this whole continent, you're nobody. In a place where you have no one to rely on, don't let your blood run hot..."

Though he thought that way, his mind conjured a scene from ten thousand years after Spirit Hall's fall: on the Douluo Continent, completely under Tang San's control, a genius born with level-eight Soul Power had to sell his body just to get the medicine his mother needed to survive. And Huo Yuhao, no matter how heaven-defying his luck and talent, had to obediently wear a collar and be Tang the God King's dog.

"That's ten thousand years from now. There's no telling whether I'll even live a hundred years. Why should I risk my life for them?"

He took several deep breaths and had only just steadied himself when he noticed the Gold Soul Coin on the table. Bathed in moonlight, it lay alone on the empty tabletop, just like him.

"Her first friend, huh..."

Feng Xinglie suddenly understood why Qian Renxue had hugged him then. Born into such a complicated environment and holding such a high position, she had few chances to spend time with children her own age. In her world, only her grandfather truly treated her well. So when she saw another child resolutely step in front of her to protect her, that sense of security immediately dispelled her fear of being abandoned by her mother. Feng Xinglie, too, had secured an important place in her young heart.

He toyed with the pastry, already missing a bite, his expression complicated. After a long silence, he suddenly shoved it into his mouth and chewed viciously, a hint of anger crossing his face.

"You promised to protect me, then threw me into the fire pit and ran off! How am I supposed to swallow this without settling the score with you?"

He reached out and snatched the Gold Soul Coin from the table, then tossed it with a cold laugh.

"Didn't you tell me to wait for you? I'd like to see what kind of pastries you bring back to make it up to me!"

He popped another pastry into his mouth and knocked his head in frustration.

"I'm crazy. I've really gone crazy! Bibi Dong offered me the Holy Son title, and I didn't waver. Qian Daoliu offered to take me as his disciple, and I still didn't budge. Money, power, status—none of it could win me over. Yet I'm actually ready to risk my life for one Gold Soul Coin from you!"

After venting, Feng Xinglie was surprised to find that once he had made up his mind, the tension that had kept his heart clenched ever since arriving at Spirit Hall finally eased.

"I'm a lost cause..."

He pressed both hands to his face and rubbed it vigorously. When he lowered them, his usually honest-looking eyes glimmered with a dark light.

"Time to make some long-term plans..."

Starting the next day, Feng Xinglie kept an eye on the mood within Spirit Hall while training diligently under Qian Daoliu's instruction. At the same time, he visited Pope's Palace every day without fail to pay his respects to Bibi Dong. Though the Pope had shown him little favor since the incident, she had no choice but to pretend he did not exist, wary of Qian Daoliu's influence. Unexpectedly, no matter how hostile her attitude, Feng Xinglie kept coming to show his goodwill. This stirred Bibi Dong's interest again. Faced with the immense future gains a genius born with level-twenty Soul Power could bring, she began to consider putting their differences aside and bringing him into her service. What she did not know was that, aside from trying to build goodwill and ease their relationship, Feng Xinglie was constantly looking for an opportunity.

In his plan, one had to pacify the home front before fighting abroad. If he did not resolve the enormous conflicts within Spirit Hall, a decisive battle against Tang San would be nothing but a joke. By his reckoning, only a few decades remained before Tang San became a god. Even if he trained himself to the bone in that short time, the best outcome would be to add one more Titled Douluo to Spirit Hall's already enormous ranks. So more than "strength," what he needed now was the "influence" to help him shape Spirit Hall's internal decisions. And to recruit his own people while maintaining the balance between the Worship Hall and Pope's Palace, he first had to make his empty title of Holy Son stick. That meant earning achievements—big, legitimate achievements.

At last, after days of persistent observation, he uncovered a sliver of opportunity.

The Soul Master Subsidy was a semi-compulsory welfare program jointly run by Spirit Hall and the two empires. All three parties contributed funds to provide Soul Masters with a monthly allowance in Gold Soul Coins. But the royal families, who thought of themselves as nobles and treated the common people like livestock, had no desire to pay this enormous sum that brought them no benefit. So as the end of each month approached, they would pay less or fail to pay at all, citing one excuse or another. When Spirit Hall demanded an explanation, the empires would make all kinds of evasive arguments and drag things out. By the time the subsidies were due, Spirit Hall usually had to plug the enormous shortfall itself. Faced with the two empires' shameless behavior, Bibi Dong had no good solution. So whenever she saw a report on the Soul Master Subsidy, she would frown without even realizing it. Feng Xinglie happened to notice this when he came to pay his respects.

"Is something troubling you, Your Holiness the Pope? I'm willing to go through fire and water for you, without hesitation."

"It's nothing. You may leave."

Bibi Dong was in such a poor mood that she did not even look at him properly.

"Could it be that Your Holiness the Pope is worried about funding the Soul Master Subsidy? If so, I may have a way to help you."

"Hm?"

Bibi Dong looked up at him, slightly surprised. She had not expected the little fellow to be so sharp. With a hint of amusement, she asked:

"Go on, then. How do you plan to solve it?"

Seeing a chance, Feng Xinglie hurried forward and bowed.

"The two empires have ulterior motives. They want to use the Soul Master Subsidy to drain Spirit Hall's finances. I'm powerless to oppose the royal families, but I can establish a chamber of commerce and turn a profit to help Your Holiness cover the expenses."

Bibi Dong snorted with laughter.

"Good, very good. The Holy Son wants to serve Spirit Hall—that's naturally a good thing. Ghost Douluo, give the Holy Son ten thousand Gold Soul Coins and help him achieve his goal."

"Yes."

Nearby, Ghost Douluo, whose figure had melted into the shadows, answered in a low voice. In an instant, he appeared before Feng Xinglie and handed him a Storage Soul Tool containing ten thousand Gold Soul Coins.

"Thank you, Your Holiness the Pope! Thank you, Elder Ghost!"

With his goal accomplished, Feng Xinglie shouted his thanks and withdrew from Pope's Palace. Turning the Soul Tool over in his hands, he could not help shaking his head with a mocking laugh. Ten thousand Gold Soul Coins was undoubtedly a fortune to an ordinary family, but thinking he could make enough from that to cover the subsidy shortfall for Soul Masters across the entire continent was laughable. Bibi Dong had never expected to get the money back. It was merely a gesture to show respect for the genius and smooth over their relationship. After all, the money came from Spirit Hall's coffers, while the favor would be credited to her.

"Elder Ghost, why have you been following me this whole time?"

"Didn't His Holiness the Pope say so? I'm to help you achieve your goal."

Got it: a bodyguard and a watchdog. Feng Xinglie was impressed. He had thought she would send a Red-robed Cardinal at most, but she had actually assigned him a Titled Douluo. Ghost Douluo was not much of a talker. He waited until the two of them had said their farewells to Qian Daoliu, boarded a carriage, and left Spirit City before asking:

"How does the Holy Son plan to establish a chamber of commerce?"

Feng Xinglie smiled at his question.

"Elder Ghost, you're teasing me. I'm not capable of anything so grand. I'll just use Spirit Hall's name to bring other chambers of commerce together so we can all prosper."

"I see. I wish the Holy Son success."

After hearing that, Gui Mei shook his head and sneered to himself. He knew nothing about business, but he had seen countless people rake in money under Spirit Hall's name. They expected people to hand over money for nothing? Spirit Hall's backing would certainly attract some, but the merchants who gathered for profit would put in little and make a lot of noise. They would constantly meddle in Spirit Hall's decisions, and more than a few would secretly line their own pockets. In his eyes, the Holy Son was still far too young. He would treat this trip as taking a child out for fun and a change of scenery.

"Elder Ghost, actually, I already have a few ideas about this. You've seen a lot—could you give me some advice?"

From Gui Mei's expression, Feng Xinglie could guess most of what was going through his mind. Sure enough, his words piqued Gui Mei's interest. After a slight nod, Feng Xinglie continued:

"We don't have much capital, so I plan to establish a chamber of commerce in Spirit Hall's name. We'll put all ten thousand Gold Soul Coins into it and buy fifty-one percent of the shares. Then we'll invite chambers of commerce from across the continent to join us. Any that want in can buy a one-percent stake for ten million Gold Soul Coins, with each chamber allowed to buy no more than three percent. That way, we can raise as much as four hundred and ninety million Gold Soul Coins."

"Heh... Holy Son, that's a bit of an outrageous joke."

Even the usually cold Gui Mei could not help laughing. You put in ten thousand for fifty-one percent, while everyone else had to pay ten million for one percent? Where in the world was there a deal like that? Did people have money to burn? Feng Xinglie merely smiled faintly.

"That's why we need to wave Spirit Hall's banner. Besides, there's still you. As one of Spirit Hall's public faces and a Titled Douluo at the pinnacle of combat strength on the Douluo Continent, if Elder Ghost stands here, what's there to worry about? Surely people will join in?"

"Hmm... Hmm?"

The flattery made Gui Mei feel quite pleased. Though the title was only nominal, the Pope herself had officially bestowed the Holy Son title on Feng Xinglie, so his praise still carried weight. But then Gui Mei suddenly realized what Feng Xinglie meant by "if Elder Ghost stands here, what's there to worry about? Surely people will join in?" What if nobody did? Feng Xinglie had said they would wave Spirit Hall's banner, but failure surely could not be blamed on Spirit Hall's lack of prestige. That meant the blame would have to fall on him...

Gui Mei immediately realized the boy had set him up and glared at the little rascal who had dug a pit for him. Feng Xinglie did not mind. After establishing the Martial Soul Chamber of Commerce according to his plan, he began recruiting partners from across the continent.

But Feng Xinglie was wrong—completely wrong.

He had thought he could raise at most four hundred and ninety million Gold Soul Coins. Yet in just three days, the funds he received exceeded four billion, and less than thirty percent of the shares had even been sold. The reason behind it all was the title of "Holy Son" that he had treated as worthless.