It was late at night.
Only one dim oil lamp burned in the Library Pavilion, its light faint.
Su Chen leaned back in a repaired bamboo chair. The Light Screen of the Eye of Omniscience had just vanished into his Sea of Divine Consciousness.
The wind outside was picking up, carrying the bleak chill of early autumn.
"Creak~"
The old wooden door swung open without a sound.
Cold wind rushed into the room, making the lamp flame sway violently and stretching the shadows on the wall long and short.
Bibi Dong stepped over the threshold. Tonight, she hadn't changed into the inconspicuous casual clothes she'd worn over the past few days, nor was she carrying that laughable food box.
She wore the Pope's formal robes, dark purple embroidered with intricate gold patterns.
Her tall crown glimmered with a cold metallic sheen in the faint light.
Her boot heels struck the floorboards strewn with wood shavings.
Bibi Dong stopped before the tea table and looked down at Su Chen in the bamboo chair, her gaze oppressive.
The air turned icy.
"Tomorrow is the Spirit Hall's Year-End Sacrificial Ceremony. The Worship Hall has demanded that the identities of all inner-court personnel be verified."
Bibi Dong's expression was as dark as water, and her voice carried a bone-chilling coldness. "You will be forced to display your Martial Soul in public."
Su Chen sprang up from the bamboo chair. He jolted in fright, his whole body stiffening like a plank as his hands twisted together helplessly.
His head hung low, his eyes fixed on a crack in the floor. He hardly dared to breathe.
Deep within his downcast eyes, the Eye of Omniscience silently lit up in his Sea of Divine Consciousness.
A pale blue Light Screen popped up instantly.
Bibi Dong's profile spread out before him, a glaring field of crimson.
[Target: Binder No. 001 · Bibi Dong]
[Current Emotions: Worry 90% / Frantic with anxiety / Killing Intent off the charts]
[Inner Monologue: That old dog Qian Daoliu has laid a deadly trap. If there's no way out, I can only have Angela take him through the secret passage. I don't care if I lose the position of Pope!]
Bibi Dong looked at Su Chen's thin, tense shoulders. Her phoenix eyes narrowed as she continued to throw the brutal reality at him.
"When Pei Yuan tested you earlier, he only saw a withered-branch Martial Soul. But the Great Worship may already know about the verdant markings that once flashed across the back of your hand."
Bibi Dong's hands, hidden inside her wide sleeves, clenched so suddenly that her nails dug deep into her palms.
Her voice grew tighter, simmering with anger.
"Qian Daoliu came prepared. Tomorrow, on the high platform, they'll use their spiritual power to search your soul and examine your bones until they've torn you apart. If your trash Martial Soul shows even the slightest flaw, you'll be guilty of deceiving the inner court. The Worship Hall's Enforcement Squad will kill you on the spot!"
Su Chen gripped the edge of the bamboo chair so tightly his knuckles turned white. The chair groaned under the strain.
He kept his head down, his face taut, while his mind raced through tomorrow's possibilities.
It really was a deadly trap, one link after another.
If he displayed only his pure "withered-branch" Martial Soul in front of everyone tomorrow, Pei Yuan and the others would seize on it and kill him outright on the grounds that he was an unknown person with no Soul Power, just to humiliate the Pope.
If he used the World Tree's source power to resist the spiritual probing of a Limit Douluo like Qian Daoliu, revealing his trump card too soon would violate his long-held principle of staying low-key. It would also make him a divine treasure the madmen of Spirit Hall would want to dissect and study.
There was no coming back from this.
The only way was to flip the table and muddy the waters completely.
He had to make the conflict between the Pope Palace and the Worship Hall explode before he displayed his Martial Soul.
Su Chen's shoulders began to shake violently.
He opened his mouth, breathing in short, ragged gasps as his chest heaved, like a drowning man.
Slowly, he raised his head.
His eyes were as red as a rabbit's, shot through with blood vessels.
There was no calculation in them, only despair, fear, and a fierce, desperate resolve.
He stared at Bibi Dong.
"Your Holiness..." Su Chen's lips had gone white, and his voice trembled with a fervent plea. "Will I... will I die tomorrow?"
The words were like iron nails dipped in poison, driven straight into Bibi Dong's heart.
Bibi Dong's breath caught.
Her pupils contracted.
The purple-black Rakshasa Death Qi she'd been suppressing with all her might surged out of control, spilling from her body and corroding the floor tiles with a sizzling hiss.
Su Chen watched Bibi Dong's fingertips tremble as she fought to restrain herself. He knew her emotions had reached the breaking point.
The time was right.
Instead of rushing forward to beg for help, he abruptly released the chair and staggered half a step backward, putting distance between himself and Bibi Dong.
Su Chen forced a smile uglier than a sob. His laugh carried a chilling air of resolve.
"Your subordinate's life is worthless. It doesn't matter if I die."
He looked at Bibi Dong. The fear had vanished from his bloodshot eyes, leaving only a sick, unwavering determination.
"You're the lofty Pope. If tomorrow's so-called Exhibition tarnishes Your Holiness's name and gives the Worship Hall a pretext to use against you... I'd rather sever my own heart meridians before stepping onto that platform!"
Su Chen spoke slowly, each word striking like a hammer.
"Even if I die, I won't let Qian Daoliu put the slightest constraint on Your Holiness!"
Dead silence.
The air in the Library Pavilion seemed to have been sucked dry.
His declaration that he didn't seek life but welcomed death, that he was willing to give everything for the Pope, crashed into Bibi Dong's Sea of Divine Consciousness like a ten-thousand-ton hammer.
For forty years, she had been trapped in Spirit Hall's whirlpool of power.
She had seen every kind of scheming and betrayal, seen people stop at nothing to achieve their goals, and seen Yu Xiaogang's cowardly, evasive back.
Not one person had ever been willing to give up his life without reservation to protect her.
Su Chen's words pierced through the last barrier of her reason.
The Eye of Omniscience's profile exploded with new readings.
[Heartache: Threshold exceeded!]
[Protective Instinct: Extremely strong (the system's prohibition is barely holding it back)]
"Bang!"
Bibi Dong took one step forward, her heavy military boot crushing the wooden floorboards beneath her.
She treated the system's "strictly forbidden from initiating physical contact" rule as if it were nothing and shot out her right hand.
Her five fingers clamped around Su Chen's left shoulder like iron pincers.
Purple-black Soul Power boiled around her. Even the air warped and blurred under the influence of the Rakshasa Death Qi.
Bibi Dong's phoenix eyes blazed with barely restrained madness and fury, and an unquestionable dominance.
"Silence!"
She stared into Su Chen's eyes, each word dripping with blood as she ground it out through clenched teeth.
"I haven't let you die. Even the King of Hell can't take you! Tomorrow, all you have to do is stand there. Even if the sky falls, I'll hold it up for you!"
Pain surged through Su Chen's shoulder, as if his bones were about to shatter. He let out a muffled groan.
On the surface, he kept up his dazed, terrified look, his eyes dull as if he'd been scared witless.
But deep in his Sea of Divine Consciousness, the Eye of Omniscience's Light Screen captured two excellent reactions at once.
On Bibi Dong's profile before him, her resolve to die had locked in completely: [At all costs, activate the Ancient Secret Path Project.]
At the edge of the Light Screen's warning radar, a golden marker belonging to Qian Renxue was flashing violently.
The accompanying details appeared:
[Long-range Monitoring: Young Master Palace]
[Status: Holding a wooden comb, highly agitated]
[Desire to battle the Pope: 95% (still climbing rapidly)]
[Inner Monologue: Tomorrow at the Sacrificial Ceremony, I want to see how that madwoman gets herself out of this! I'm the only one who can uncover the truth about this useless man!]
Su Chen let Bibi Dong keep her iron grip on his shoulder as he sneered inwardly.
The ploy had killed two birds with one stone. His feigned surrender had succeeded brilliantly.
Spirit Hall's two most powerful women had already armed themselves to the teeth, ready to put on an epic show of protectiveness over him at tomorrow's Sacrificial Ceremony.
The scene shifted.
The view turned to a deep underground chamber in the Worship Hall.
Dim candlelight flickered, and the air in the stone room was cold and oppressive.
At the head of the long table, Qian Daoliu sat in shadow. He slowly reached out his gaunt fingers and opened an ancient dark-gold box before him.
The scrape of metal rang harshly through the silent chamber.
The lid swung open.
Qian Daoliu reached inside and took out a golden token emanating an ancient aura.
It was the Holy Judgment Token, engraved with nine divine sigils of the Six-Winged Angel. It represented the supreme power of judgment in Spirit Hall.
"Vmmm!"
A burst of sacred golden light erupted from the token, driving away the darkness around it.
The dazzling brilliance made Second Worship Golden Crocodile Douluo and Pei Yuan, standing nearby, squint instinctively.
Qian Daoliu slowly traced the patterns along the edge of the token with his rough fingertips.
A chilling killing intent spread wildly outward from him.
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