The Terrifying Pressure of Lin Qiu! Chen Xin Was Shocked! The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect Was in an Uproar!

"How... how is this possible?"

These four guards were the sect's elite. How had they ended up on their knees before they'd even touched their opponent?

Lin Qiu took a step forward and slowly walked toward Ning Rongrong.

Every step seemed to land right on her heart.

"Y-you, don't come any closer!"

Ning Rongrong finally panicked. She instinctively stumbled back two steps, her voice trembling. "I'm the eldest young lady of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect! My father is Ning Fengzhi! If you dare lay a hand on me..."

"The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect?"

Lin Qiu stopped in front of her and looked down at the spoiled little princess. There wasn't a trace of respect in his eyes, only cool indifference.

"Not even you—if Sword Douluo Chen Xin and Gu Rong came here in person, they wouldn't dare act so recklessly in Spirit City."

He reached out. His movement seemed slow, but he was as fast as lightning. In one swift motion, he grabbed Ning Rongrong by the scruff of her neck.

Like picking up a disobedient kitten.

"Perfect. The banquet's tomorrow."

"Since the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect is being so 'courteous,' you, young miss, can come with me to the Spirit Hall for a visit."

Lin Qiu had thought it through.

The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect was rich enough to rival a nation and would play an important role in the future.

Since this little girl had walked right into his sights, it would be a shame not to make use of the opportunity.

He could use this chance to put Ning Fengzhi in his place and make him understand that the Spirit Hall of today was no longer something they could casually probe.

"Let go of me! You bastard! I'm telling my dad!"

Ning Rongrong struggled with all her might, but against Lin Qiu's iron grip, her strength was negligible.

Lin Qiu couldn't be bothered to listen to her shouting. Holding her in one hand, he blurred into a streak of golden light and shot toward the Pope Palace.

All that remained were the gawking passersby and the four guards, still kneeling on the ground, unable to move.

Half an hour later.

On the top floor of the most luxurious hotel in Spirit City, the Platinum Hotel.

The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect had booked the entire place.

Ning Fengzhi wore an elegant robe and held a teacup as he stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing down at the bustling city.

Behind him sat a tall, gaunt old man: Bone Douluo Gu Rong, renowned as "the greatest defense under heaven."

"Fengzhi, it seems the Spirit Hall has grand plans this time."

Gu Rong's voice was hoarse. "We'd never heard a thing about that so-called Holy Son before. Now they're suddenly announcing him to the world, and I hear he publicly crippled that 'Grandmaster,' Yu Xiaogang. He's certainly a force to be reckoned with."

Ning Fengzhi gave a slight nod, a trace of worry passing through his eyes.

"That woman, Bibi Dong, is unfathomable. This adopted son of hers is probably a trump card she's raised."

"I was worried the Spirit Hall might use this banquet to make a move, but judging by the situation, they seem to be trying to establish their authority."

Just then—

Bang!

The door burst open as someone stumbled inside in a panic.

The four guards came tumbling in, battered and disheveled. The moment they entered, they fell to their knees, trembling all over.

"Se... Sect Master! Something terrible has happened!"

Ning Fengzhi's brow furrowed, and the unease in his heart surged.

His gaze swept across the room, but he didn't see the familiar figure.

"Where's Rongrong?"

Ning Fengzhi's voice sank.

"The young miss... she's been taken!"

The leading guard spoke in a trembling voice.

"What?!"

Gu Rong sprang to his feet, unleashing a terrifying aura that instantly reduced the surrounding tables and chairs to dust.

"Who did it?! Who would dare lay a hand on someone from my Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect in Spirit City?!"

The guard swallowed, his face ashen. He stammered out an answer:

"It... it was someone from the Spirit Hall."

"That young man said... he was taking the young miss to the Pope Palace for a visit..."

Clatter!

The teacup slipped from Ning Fengzhi's hand and shattered on the floor.

His usually composed, scholarly face—one that would not change even if Mount Tai collapsed before him—finally cracked.

Ning Fengzhi stared at the four guards trembling on the ground. His normally genial face had turned dark with anger.

His chest rose and fell slightly, his hands clasped behind his back.

"You're saying that the Holy Son snatched Rongrong away in broad daylight, carrying her off like a little chick?"

Ning Fengzhi's voice was quiet, impossible to read. But the guards had served him for many years. They knew this meant their Sect Master was furious.

The leading Soul Ancestor pressed his forehead against the carpet, cold sweat already soaking his back. He answered in a trembling voice:

"Y-yes, Sect Master. That young man's pressure was terrifying. We didn't even see when he made his move before a tremendous force pressed us to our knees. It felt as if every bone in our bodies were about to shatter. We couldn't move at all."

Gu Rong was so furious that he slammed his palm down on the table. The precious sandalwood piece instantly crumbled to dust.

"Bullshit! The kid's only twelve. Even if he'd been cultivating since he was in the womb, how much Soul Power could he possibly have?"

"He can't just overwhelm four Soul Ancestors with his aura! That's utterly absurd!"

Gu Rong was tall and imposing, and now his beard and hair bristled with rage. He clearly didn't believe it.

Ning Fengzhi, however, waved a hand to stop Gu Rong's outburst. He drew a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

"Uncle Bone, they wouldn't dare lie."

Ning Fengzhi turned toward the Pope Palace, his gaze deep and inscrutable.

"It seems we all underestimated this Holy Son of the Spirit Hall."

"If Bibi Dong dared put him in the public eye—and even risked declaring herself against the whole world for his sake—then this boy must be extraordinarily gifted in ways ordinary people can't imagine."

"But..."

A deep worry flashed through Ning Fengzhi's eyes. "That girl Rongrong has been spoiled since she was little. She's headstrong. If she angers the Holy Son, a few bruises are one thing, but if her foundation is damaged..."

The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect was rich enough to rival a nation, and its support abilities were the best under heaven. But its direct-line disciples were sorely lacking in ways to protect themselves.

"No, I have to go get Rongrong back!" Gu Rong said, already heading for the door.

"Wait."

Ning Fengzhi stopped him, his brow furrowed. "This is Spirit City, and the Pope Palace is a dragon's den. Uncle Bone, your strengths are defense and covert techniques. If you charge in head-on to rescue her, you may be the one who suffers."

At that moment, an intensely sharp force surged outside the window.

Before anyone appeared, the sound of a sword rang out.

The tightly shut window opened without a breath of wind, and a tall, lean figure appeared in the center of the room as if he had teleported.

The newcomer wore spotless white robes, his silver hair combed to perfection. With his hands behind his back, he looked like a drawn sword—its edge bared, yet held in check.

He was the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's pillar of white jade, the ninety-sixth-level Titled Douluo, Sword Douluo Chen Xin.

"Fengzhi, I sensed Rongrong's aura near the Pope Palace."

Chen Xin's expression was grave. He had been handling matters concerning the sect's hidden outposts beyond the city. He'd hurried back as soon as he sensed the commotion here, only to hear this terrible news.

Ning Fengzhi felt a little more at ease when he saw Chen Xin.

"Uncle Sword, Rongrong was taken by the Spirit Hall's Holy Son. The situation is unclear, and Bibi Dong is taking a hard line. I'm worried about Rongrong's safety."