"Heh."
Amid the suffocating silence, a soft laugh broke the stalemate.
Lin Qiu stood atop the Golden Lotus, looking down at Yu Xiaogang.
His gaze was calm.
As if a mighty dragon were watching an ant bare its fangs and wave its claws at him.
There was no anger, no panic, not even the slightest flicker of emotion.
"So it's you."
Lin Qiu flicked at nonexistent dust on his sleeve, his tone languid and casual. "You're that 'Grandmaster' from the market the other day, the one who tried to swindle passersby out of their money."
His voice wasn't loud, but with his profound Soul Power behind it, it carried clearly to every corner of the square.
"What? I exposed your scam that day, and you were so humiliated that you came here today to bite back?"
His words sent an uproar through the crowd.
"What? He's a fraud?"
"I knew it! What could a twenty-ninth-level Soul Grandmaster possibly know?"
"So he's a swindler who got exposed and came back for revenge! What a despicable character!"
"And he calls himself a Grandmaster? He brings shame on all scholars!"
Public opinion instantly swung in Lin Qiu's favor.
After all, one of them was His Highness the Holy Son, radiant with glory and unfathomable in strength; the other was a disgraced, abandoned failure who had reached only level twenty-nine.
Whom would they believe?
There was no need to choose.
Besides, Yu Xiaogang's title of "Grandmaster" had always been controversial in the Soul Master World. Many thought his theories were nothing but armchair talk.
Now that His Highness the Holy Son had publicly called him out for "fraud," everyone was even more convinced.
Yu Xiaogang listened to the stinging jeers around him and saw the contempt in everyone's eyes. His face turned the color of liver.
Humiliation, shame, rage...
The emotions churned violently in his chest, almost making him spit blood.
"You... you're talking nonsense!"
Yu Xiaogang pointed at Lin Qiu, his finger trembling. "My theories are priceless treasures! You blind, ignorant brat—you slandered me, and now you dare accuse me of fraud?!"
He whipped around to look at Bibi Dong and roared:
"Bibi Dong! What are you waiting for? Are you going to stand by and let this depraved brat ruin Spirit Hall?!"
"I order you! Right now! Throw him out!"
"If you don't, I, Yu Xiaogang, will not let this go!"
He had completely lost his reason.
Years of pent-up frustration and self-loathing erupted all at once.
He was certain Bibi Dong wouldn't ignore him.
He was certain he held an irreplaceable place in her heart.
He even imagined that if he acted forceful enough, Bibi Dong would soften toward him like she had back then, coaxing him and giving him everything he wanted.
But.
Bibi Dong didn't soothe him.
A flash of light answered him instead.
A streak of cold light, so swift it was beyond belief, so icy it chilled the bones.
There was no warning.
Not even the slightest buildup of Soul Power.
It was as if a crack had suddenly split open in the air.
"Pfft—"
Blood sprayed.
A severed arm flew high into the air, tracing a tragic arc before landing heavily on the red carpet.
The hand at the end of it was still pointing accusingly.
"AAAH—!!!"
Only after the arm hit the ground did a bloodcurdling scream burst from Yu Xiaogang's throat.
Clutching his spurting right shoulder, he staggered backward. His face turned as white as paper, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.
The square fell utterly silent.
Everyone stared wide-eyed at the scene in terror.
No one had expected anyone to dare attack at this joyous ceremony.
And the very first strike had cost a man his arm!
How ruthless!
"Disrespecting His Highness the Holy Son deserves punishment."
A voice, seductive to the bone yet laced with a chilling menace, rang out.
A graceful figure slowly appeared beside Lin Qiu.
Hu Liena wore the attire of a Holy Maiden of Spirit Hall, her short golden hair fluttering in the wind.
Behind her, the phantom of a massive Demon Fox appeared and disappeared, its five fluffy tails swaying gently, radiating an unsettling blend of allure and danger.
She held no weapon.
But the blow just now had clearly come from her—or from someone behind her who had given the order.
Hu Liena narrowed her peach-blossom eyes and looked coldly at Yu Xiaogang writhing on the ground, as if he were a pile of garbage.
"This is the Pope Palace, not a place for you to run wild."
"Say one more word, and the next thing we cut off will be your head."
Yu Xiaogang convulsed with pain.
He clutched his wound, blood staining his tattered clothes red.
But he paid no attention to the pain or his severed arm.
He looked toward the woman on the dais.
"No... this can't be..."
Yu Xiaogang's lips trembled, his eyes full of confusion and disbelief.
Why?
Why wasn't this how it was supposed to go?
Where was Bibi Dong?
Why hadn't she come to help him?
Why hadn't she killed the two people who had hurt him?
"Dong'er... it's me, Xiaogang..."
Yu Xiaogang's voice was hoarse, choked with tears. "Look at me... They cut off my hand... Save me... Kill that little bastard and avenge me..."
Even now, he was still living in his own dream.
On the dais.
Bibi Dong remained where she stood, like a divine statue devoid of feeling.
She didn't even lift her eyelids. Her gaze stayed fixed on Lin Qiu, as if checking whether any blood had splashed onto her beloved son's clothes.
As for the man screaming below, she chose to ignore him completely.
That indifference hurt more than anger.
Because it meant she didn't care.
Not at all. Not in the slightest. As if he were nothing but air.
Yu Xiaogang froze.
When he met those violet eyes, cold to the extreme, a chill unlike any he had ever felt shot from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.
The air in the square grew so thick it was hard to breathe.
Yu Xiaogang curled up on the red carpet, the agony of his severed arm making his whole body convulse. Cold sweat soaked through his gray, dusty clothes.
He opened his mouth, still hoping to cry out a few more times and awaken even the faintest sliver of pity in Bibi Dong.
But when he raised his head and met those violet eyes devoid of warmth, it felt as though an invisible hand had clamped around his throat.
He couldn't make a sound.
He didn't dare make a sound.
She was looking at him as if he were already dead.
In the shadows below the Pope's seat.
Bibi Dong gave a slight shake of her head.
She wasn't heartless. Had it been anyone else, she might have considered their past and spared Yu Xiaogang some dignity.
But Yu Xiaogang never should have—under any circumstances—turned his accusations against Lin Qiu.
He was the child she had raised as her own, the future hope of Spirit Hall, and her only spiritual anchor in this world.
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