Ye Qing's words struck at the heart of the matter, laying bare the awkwardness of their positions and identities.
The God Child of Sea God Island, meddling in the affairs of a power that carried on the Angel God's legacy?
If word got out, it would spell enormous trouble for both Sea God Island and Spirit Hall. It might even spark a conflict on the divine level.
Yet when Bibi Dong heard Ye Qing's perfectly reasonable refusal and doubts, she wasn't disappointed. Instead, she breathed a sigh of relief.
She first shook her head gently and said, "You're right. On the surface, it wouldn't be appropriate."
But in the next instant, her usually calm eyes turned razor-sharp and intensely serious. She fixed them on Ye Qing and spoke slowly, each word perfectly clear:
"But... if you and Sea God Island are willing to make your position clear and stand with me, you wouldn't need to interfere directly. All I need is a show of support, however subtle."
"Then I'll find a way to pry open this seemingly unbreakable deadlock and take that seat!"
Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried the resolve and confidence of someone who had burned every bridge behind her.
Ye Qing looked at the stunning woman before him, her gaze blazing as if with icy fire, and felt his heart stir slightly.
Setting everything else aside, her sheer audacity and resolve—to keep plotting even in desperate straits, to dare challenge the impossible—were enough to make anyone take notice.
No wonder she would one day attain the Rakshasa Godhood and lead Spirit Hall to its peak.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he picked up his now-cold cup and took another small sip, as if savoring the bitter aftertaste that had long since faded.
A moment later, he set the cup down, a hard-to-read smile appearing on his small face.
And that wasn't all. A hint of amusement crept into his clear eyes as well:
"Even if we take the most generous view..."
"Even if things really are as you say, Saintess, and I and Sea God Island have the influence or ability you're hoping for..."
"Then..."
Ye Qing leaned forward slightly, imitating Bibi Dong's posture from earlier. He looked straight at her with clear eyes that seemed capable of seeing right through people.
"Saintess, what kind of... reward can you offer in exchange for that support?"
"Bear in mind, supporting you means standing against the Qian Family, at least covertly. The risks and costs involved aren't small."
He didn't refuse outright. Instead, he tossed the question back to her, making it clear that her offer was no small matter, and that what she could offer would determine whether he accepted.
Sure enough, at Ye Qing's almost haggling opening, something seemed to flicker ever so faintly in the depths of Bibi Dong's serene purple eyes.
It was a glimmer of hope, of the possibility that they could negotiate.
What she feared most wasn't Ye Qing bargaining. It was him rejecting her outright, leaving no room for discussion.
As long as he was willing to talk, there was still a chance!
With that thought, Bibi Dong drew a deep breath. Her ample chest rose and fell slightly, betraying the turmoil within her.
In a grave voice, she asked:
"What do you want?"
Her gaze held Ye Qing fast, as if trying to peer into the depths of his soul:
"Anything I have, anything I can do... I can give it to you."
Those words carried great weight. They were practically a promise made without regard for the cost.
They also showed just how badly Bibi Dong wanted the position of Supreme Pontiff, and how dire and urgent her current situation was.
She didn't seem to have many other bargaining chips. All she could do was stake everything she had.
"The thing is... I don't think there's anything in particular I want right now."
He tilted his head, looking as if he were giving it serious thought.
"If you have anything that might sway me, Saintess, why not tell me what it is? Perhaps there's something I'd be interested in."
He didn't name his price. Instead, he tossed the ball back to Bibi Dong, making her reveal her hand first.
It was a negotiating tactic, and a better way to test her limits and sincerity.
Bibi Dong fell silent.
Ye Qing didn't hurry her. After all, he wasn't the one asking for a favor.
Bibi Dong's silence meant she was thinking, and weighing her options.
She was trying to figure out what might interest the seemingly young but terrifyingly calculating God Child of Sea God Island.
A Soul Bone?
Wealth?
Power?
None of those seemed likely.
Beauty?
The thought flashed through her mind, only for her to dismiss it at once. He was only six!
Then... what did Sea God Island lack?
Or what did he lack personally?
She realized she knew far too little about Ye Qing.
That made it difficult to name the right price.
And as Bibi Dong sank into thought while Ye Qing waited quietly...
Elsewhere, the battle outside the gates of the Clear Sky Sect had already reached its conclusion.
With Sea Dragon Douluo and Qian Xunji joining the battle in person, the Clear Sky Sect's defenses, which had barely held until then, crumbled like sandcastles battered by the waves.
Spirit Hall's forces had suffered injuries among several Soul Douluos, with two sustaining only minor wounds, but none of their core fighters had fallen.
The Clear Sky Sect, however, had been devastated.
Bodies littered the sect's plaza, and rivers of blood ran through it.
Ordinary disciples had suffered horrific casualties. The wounded wailed everywhere.
Nearly two-thirds of the Soul Saint elites had fallen as well.
Four of the powerful elders had met their deaths, decapitated under the combined assault of Chrysanthemum Douluo Yue Guan's Singular Velvet Sky Chrysanthemum and Spirit Hall's Soul Douluos.
Worse still, Sect Master Tang Zhen had been wounded by the divine power of the Six-Winged Angel during his head-on battle with Qian Xunji.
A sword wound, deep enough to expose bone, had been carved across his chest.
The holy flames of purification and light continued to erode his Soul Power and life force.
At that moment, the only ones in the entire Clear Sky Sect still barely able to stand were the gravely wounded Tang Zhen and the brothers Tang Hao and Tang Xiao, drenched in blood and supporting each other, grief and despair in their eyes.
The two of them had also suffered serious injuries under the combined assault of Sea Dragon Douluo and Ghost Douluo.
But thanks to their youth, strength, and unyielding resolve, as well as the fearsome power of the Clear Sky Hammer, they still retained some fighting strength.
Yet against the overwhelming force before them, even that little strength was insignificant.
Qian Xunji hovered in the air, the phantom of the Six-Winged Angel behind him radiating a sacred, majestic glow that made him look like a god of light.
His cold gaze swept over the wreckage below, across the Clear Sky Sect's plaza, which looked like a scene from hell, before settling on Tang Zhen, who was barely holding on.
He slowly descended to the ground and walked to a spot in front of Tang Zhen. The chilling, faint smile of a victor returned to his face.
"Sect Master Tang, my patience is limited."
"I'll say this one last time..."
"Hand over everything you stole, intact."
"Then..."
His voice suddenly turned harsh, laced with murderous intent that brooked no argument:
"Tang Hao, Tang Xiao, cut off one of your own arms!"
"Otherwise..."
Qian Xunji slowly raised his right hand, palm facing up. A pure golden flame, so immaculate it seemed capable of purifying all filth and sin, burned quietly in his palm.
He looked around. Every surviving member of the Clear Sky Sect trembled beneath his gaze.
"This time next year..."
"Will be the anniversary of the deaths of every last member of the Clear Sky Sect!"
His icy words swept through the entire mountain stronghold like the Grim Reaper's pronouncement, carrying the chill of deepest winter.
The final ultimatum had been delivered.