Nan Feng: You Can't Make a Move, But Can't I?

Inside the Pope Palace, following the order from Golden Crocodile Douluo, the crowd—though filled with turbulent emotions—dared not linger and retreated one after another after offering their salutes.

The vast hall was, in the blink of an eye, left with nothing but the white funeral banners hanging high, the empty and luxurious coffin, and that lonely figure standing with his back to the main entrance.

"They have all left."

Golden Crocodile Douluo walked behind Qian Daoliu, his voice low.

Qian Daoliu turned around slowly. In that instant, he seemed no longer the Peerless Douluo who shook the world, but merely an old man in the twilight of his years who had lost his son.

"Golden Crocodile... tell me, did I do wrong?"

Qian Daoliu looked at the coffin. "During this time, to stabilize Bibi Dong and keep her from losing her mind, I made Xue'er lie. I made her curse her own father as if he were already dead."

"But now... Xunji is truly dead."

"If Xue'er wakes up and learns of all this, what will she think? Will she feel... that her lies came true? That she is the one who killed her father?"

Qian Daoliu's voice trembled slightly. "She is only nine years old... I truly do not know how to break this to her."

Before the funeral bell tolled, he had used his soul power to plunge Qian Renxue into a deep sleep and had Guangling Douluo take her back to the depths of the Worship Hall immediately, cutting her off from all sounds of the outside world.

This was a form of protection, but also a form of evasion.

"Grand Pontiff!"

Golden Crocodile Douluo frowned and said in a deep voice, "Xue'er is the young mistress of the Angel Clan. Since she was born into Martial Soul Hall and into this position, some pain is something she must bear!"

"Nine years old is not young. At that age, we were already slaughtering our way through the Soul Beast Forest."

"Long-term pain is worse than short-term pain. If you hide it from her now, she will only suffer more when she learns the truth from others later."

Qian Daoliu closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and finally waved his hand powerlessly.

"Enough... I cannot say it."

"You go, Golden Crocodile. You tell her the news."

"I am going to the Douluo Hall to arrange the funeral rites for Xunji."

On the other side, in the Saintess Hall.

Bibi Dong dismissed her attendants and returned to her bedchamber alone.

As the heavy doors slowly closed, the majesty and coldness she maintained in front of others instantly vanished.

Hum—!

A purple-black light emerged from her body, instantly condensing into that peerless Spider Emperor Avatar.

The moment Nan Feng appeared, he threw himself onto Bibi Dong's soft bed in a sprawl, lacking any decorum, and even rubbed his face comfortably against the pillow.

"Ah... lying down is still the most comfortable."

Nan Feng let out a satisfied sigh. "Acting these past few days has left my back aching, especially last night when I was bombarded by that Rakshasa Evil Thought all night long; my brains felt like they were boiling."

Bibi Dong looked at the guy occupying her bed, the veins on her forehead twitching, but she ultimately suppressed the urge to kick him off.

After all, they were now grasshoppers tied to the same rope, and if not for this fellow's schemes, she could not have ascended to the position of Pope so smoothly.

Bibi Dong walked to the table, sat down, poured herself a cup of cold tea, and downed it in one gulp.

"Last night..."

Nan Feng turned on his side, propping his head up with one hand, and looked at Bibi Dong with a gossiping expression. "When that old man Qian Daoliu rushed in, did he see anything stimulating?"

"For example... were you having a meal?"

"He saw it." Bibi Dong set down the teacup. "By the time he rushed in, Qian Xunji had already stopped breathing."

"In that instant, I could clearly feel the killing intent erupting from him; it was a rage that wished to tear me into a thousand pieces."

"But just as you predicted."

Bibi Dong sneered. "It lasted only for a moment before he held it back. Especially after I opened the Rakshasa Secret Realm, he vanished."

"Hahaha! I knew it!"

Nan Feng slapped the bed frame and laughed. "That old man has served the Angel God his entire life; the awe of the gods is carved into his very bones. Facing an Evil God like the Rakshasa, he truly dared not gamble."

"However..." Bibi Dong frowned, recalling the scene in the hall earlier. "Although Qian Daoliu held back, that old fellow Golden Crocodile Douluo is likely not so easy to deal with."

"Just now in the hall, the way he looked at me, he wanted to swallow me whole."

"Golden Crocodile is Qian Daoliu's die-hard loyalist and the most faithful dog of the Six-Winged Angel family. Although he is now forced to acknowledge my succession, he will certainly obstruct me at every turn and trip me up in the future."

"A peak ninety-eighth-rank Douluo, combined with his century of prestige in Martial Soul Hall... if he is determined to go against me, I fear this Pope's seat will not be stable."

"What are you afraid of?"

Nan Feng lay on the bed, crossing his legs, and said with a rogue's expression, "If that old crocodile dares to trip you up, I will control this avatar to go to the entrance of the Elder Hall and throw a tantrum. Or better yet, I'll hug his thighs and wail, asking why he is bullying a widow and an orphan. I don't believe he can keep his old face straight or that he'd have the nerve to bicker with a mental patient."

"No." Bibi Dong coldly interrupted him. "That was before. Now I am the Pope, and I represent the face of Martial Soul Hall."

"If the whole world finds out that the new Pope of Martial Soul Hall is a shrew who might go mad at any moment and lacks all decorum, then my time as Pope will be over, and I will even become a laughingstock for the two great empires and the Upper Three Sects."

She had exhausted every scheme to climb to this position to become an empress who ruled the world, not a clown for others to gawk at.

"Hmm... that's true."

Nan Feng rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. "Indeed, once you're a leader, you have to maintain an image; you can't be too down-to-earth. If the Pope were a lunatic, this team would certainly be hard to lead."

"Since that's the case..."

Nan Feng flipped over and sat up, a flash of brilliance in his eyes. "Then, we shall go crazy separately."

"Go crazy separately?" Bibi Dong frowned, not quite understanding.

"It's very simple."

Nan Feng patted the chest of this avatar, which felt remarkably resilient. "In any case, this Spider Emperor Avatar, bound by the Soul Blood Pact, is almost identical to your true body."

"Although its flaws are obvious—it cannot cultivate, cannot autonomously recover soul power, lacks the Soul-Eater Spider Emperor martial soul, has no soul bone skills, and can't even use its eighth or ninth soul skills..."

Nan Feng counted the defects of this body on his fingers. "It's practically a blank slate."

"But! None of that matters!"

"What matters is that the strength of this avatar is a solid level 97! And it doesn't require you to split your focus to control it; I can pilot it entirely on your behalf."

"Besides, a Pope doesn't need to personally step into the fray to fight."

"Even if you really need to take action, with level 97 strength, the first seven soul skills are more than enough to handle any opponent below the Title Douluo level."

"Next, we'll find a suitable opportunity to let everyone see, in full view of the public, that there are actually two Bibi Dongs."

"One is the noble, cold, and perfectly rational Pope. The other..." Nan Feng pointed at himself, a wicked grin appearing on his face, "...is an avatar that developed an independent consciousness due to a cultivation deviation, suffering from memory loss and a perverse personality."

"This way, not only do you have an alibi and increased safety, but you can also pin all the blame on this uncontrollable avatar."

Bibi Dong was stunned, then instinctively retorted, "How could that work? If the Spider Emperor Avatar can act independently, doesn't that mean exposing my trump card directly?"

"Nan Feng, this is our secret; it should be kept hidden!"

"Hidden? Why hide it?" Nan Feng asked, puzzled. "What is your real trump card? It's the inheritance of the Rakshasa God! It's that Rakshasa Secret Realm capable of devouring all things! Anything other than that isn't a trump card; it's just a tool!"

"Little Dong-dong, wake up."

Nan Feng stood up, walked over to Bibi Dong, and looked directly into her eyes. "You were kept under house arrest by Qian Xunji for so many years. Aside from that empty title of Holy Maiden, do you have any foundation in Martial Soul Hall?"

"The Elder Hall listens to Qian Daoliu, the powerful elders look to Golden Crocodile, and even the Platinum Cardinals below are mostly promoted by Qian Xunji."

"Right now, you're just a commander without an army!"

"If you want to secure your position as Pope, issuing orders alone is useless. There are some things that are inconvenient for the Pope to do, things that cannot be done, or even things that must remain in the shadows—someone has to do them, right?"

"Who can you trust? Those fence-sitters?"

"Only me!"

"Because the two of us share one life!"

"Let me, this amnesiac avatar, stand in the light and become the blade in your hand, your black glove. If anyone dares to defy you, and it's inconvenient for the Pope to act, can't I, this lunatic, do it instead?"

"..."

Bibi Dong was silent for a moment, then probed, "Are you sure you aren't just doing this so you can go out and cause trouble in broad daylight?"

"Little Dong-dong!" Nan Feng straightened his expression.

"What kind of talk is that? I'm doing this entirely to help you!"

"..." Bibi Dong.

She had only been suspicious before, but now it was confirmed.