Like Throwing a Dead Dog, Yu Xiaogang Was Thrown Out! Half a Month Later, the Grand Wedding!

Yet, the more she deliberately tried to recall, the clearer those deep, mocking, and certain eyes of Qian Yu appeared before her.

"Time is the best lie detector to test all hypocrisy."

"Turning around and forgetting you completely, throwing himself into the arms of another woman."

"Shut up! Shut up!!!"

Bibi Dong covered her ears in agony, tears gushing out like a broken dam, instantly soaking her robes.

The reason and pride she took such pride in had been torn to shreds by Qian Yu's precise psychological offensive.

She was afraid. She was truly afraid that what Qian Yu said was the truth.

If the love she had spent her entire life fighting for—even sacrificing her freedom to obtain—turned out to be nothing more than a ridiculous farce in the end...

Then what kind of joke was she, Bibi Dong, in this lifetime?!

In this endless self-torture and fear, the utterly exhausted Bibi Dong finally drifted into a deep sleep.

Yet even in her dreams, her brows remained tightly furrowed, with crystalline tear stains lingering at the corners of her eyes.

Meanwhile, outside the Pope Palace, the sun remained bright and beautiful.

Qian Yu walked along the corridor carved from white jade with his hands behind his back, his mood seemingly excellent, a faint arc playing on his lips.

"Master."

A shadow, ghost-like and silent, emerged soundlessly behind Qian Yu, kneeling on one knee with the utmost respect.

The figure was shrouded in a black robe, their very presence seemingly merged with the surrounding shadows.

It was the commander of the death squads Qian Yu had secretly cultivated: Ying.

Qian Yu stopped walking, not turning back, and commanded indifferently:

"Two things."

"First, pass down the order: for the Saintess's wedding in half a month, I want the entire Douluo Continent to be shaken. The scale must be even grander than the succession ceremonies of past Popes."

"I want the whole world to know that Bibi Dong is the woman of this Seat."

"Your subordinate obeys!" the shadow replied in a deep voice.

"The second thing..." Qian Yu narrowed his eyes slightly, a cold, calculating glint flashing in their depths: "Send two Shadow Guards with the best stealth abilities to follow that piece of trash who was thrown out of the city."

"Remember, do not interfere with any aspect of his life. Even if he is starving to death or being beaten to death, do not intervene."

Qian Yu turned around slowly and tossed an Image Recording Stone from his Soul Tool. This was something he had found in a ruin.

"The only thing you are to do is use this Image Recording Stone to record his life outside, every single detail."

"How he struggles to survive in the mud like a stray dog. How he begs for scraps for a few Gold Soul Coins. And how... he goes about seducing other women."

"Every detail, no matter how small, must be recorded clearly and vividly."

"Do you understand?"

The shadow received the Image Recording Stone with both hands, a flash of realization in his eyes as he bowed his head respectfully: "This subordinate understands! I will not fail the task entrusted by Master; I will bring back every wretched side of that Yu Xiaogang!"

Qian Yu nodded in satisfaction and waved his hand. The shadow instantly dissolved into a puddle of ink and vanished from the spot.

"Yu Xiaogang, oh Yu Xiaogang, I have already set the stage for you."

Qian Yu looked up at the distant azure sky, the smile on his lips growing increasingly cold.

"Make sure not to disappoint me and my poor fiancée."

Thirty miles outside Martial Soul City.

Beside a desolate and remote mass grave.

"Bang!"

A dilapidated carriage sped past, and a blood-soaked sack was brutally kicked out from the cabin, slamming heavily into a muddy, foul-smelling ditch.

"Ah--!!!"

Accompanied by a scream of extreme misery, the sack struggled and writhed violently.

"Pah!

What kind of trash is this, daring to offend Lord Qian Yu? It's truly dirtied my hands!"

On the carriage, a Martial Soul Hall knight spat in disgust.

"Enough, leave this dead dog alone. The Lord ordered that as long as he's thrown out of the city, that's enough.

Let's go, back to report."

The other knight flicked the reins, and the carriage sped away, leaving only a sky full of swirling dust behind.

In the foul ditch.

A hand covered in filth and blood struggled to reach out from the sack.

Following it was the face of Yu Xiaogang, twisted beyond recognition by extreme pain and terror.

"My legs... my legs!!!"

Yu Xiaogang wailed miserably, his hands digging deep into the mud, his fingernails peeling back until they bled.

His kneecaps had been forcibly shattered by the iron hammers of the Martial Soul Hall enforcement knights.

The bone-piercing, heart-wrenching agony caused him to faint from the pain several times, only to be jolted awake by it again.

Like a mangy dog with a broken spine, he rolled in agony amidst the stench of the mud.

The neat robe that once symbolized his status as the "Grandmaster" was now nothing but rags.

Mixed with blood and filth, it emitted a nauseating, fishy stench.

"Qian Yu... Martial Soul Hall... you demons! You will meet a miserable end!!!"

Yu Xiaogang coughed up blood while cursing frantically through his broken teeth.

However, when he laboriously raised his head to look at the horizon in the distance.

At the silhouette of the towering Martial Soul City, which symbolized absolute power.

The resentment in his eyes was instantly swallowed by endless fear.

He recalled the cold, dead-man's gaze Qian Yu had fixed upon him in the water dungeon.

He remembered the warning that had left him unable to live and unable to die.

"I can't stay here... I have to run... I need to get as far away from here as possible..."

Yu Xiaogang shuddered as if electrocuted, not even daring to voice his curses anymore.

At this very moment, in this man's mind.

There was not a single shred of concern for Bibi Dong.

He did not think about the young woman who had been forced to marry a demon just to save his wretched life, nor the despair she was currently enduring.

All he could think about was himself.

Only how he could survive.

"Dong'er... I'm sorry, I can't save you; I can't even save myself..."

Yu Xiaogang shed cowardly tears while making up high-sounding excuses for himself.

Then, he gritted his teeth, his hands clutching the weeds and mud on the ground.

Dragging his two completely ruined legs, he crawled like an incredibly ugly maggot.

Inch by inch, through the mud, he crawled away from Martial Soul City in a pathetic display.

Behind him, he left a long, shocking trail of blood-stained mud.

And in the shadows of the treetops not far from the mass grave.

A pair of cold, ruthless eyes were quietly watching it all.

A transparent crystal was secretly flickering with a faint light.

It was perfectly recording the most authentic and ugly posture of this "Grandmaster" as he begged for his life.

Half a month passed in the blink of an eye.

Martial Soul City, the holy land in the hearts of all soul masters on the continent, had turned into a sea of dazzling crimson.

From the magnificent city gates, all the way to the supreme Pope Palace.

The wide, tens-of-thousands-of-meters-long streets were covered in red carpets woven from premium ice silkworm silk.

On both sides of the road, every ten steps stood a Temple Knight clad in bright silver armor, holding a long halberd.

They looked majestic, their aura soaring to the heavens.