His Holiness the Pope, You Haven't Finished Changing Clothes Yet

Bibi Dong's gaze lingered on Su Chen's pale face for half a second before she withdrew it.

In her mind, that line of blood-red countdown flickered silently.

[Remaining Time: 15:00]

She took a deep breath and turned to look at Angela behind her, her voice as cold as a blade scraping across an ice sheet.

"Put the items down and retreat outside the door to stand guard."

Angela placed the water basin and the Black Wood Box on the coffee table, just about to speak.

"Without This Seat's order, should anyone dare to approach the Library Pavilion by even half a step, they are to be executed without mercy."

Angela shivered, hurriedly lowering her head as she retreated outside, the wooden door closing with a dull thud behind her.

In the corridor, Angela stood ramrod straight, fine beads of sweat seeping from her temples.

She glanced through the shadow of the door crack, her mind a complete muddle.

The dignified Pope of the Martial Soul Hall, the most powerful woman on the continent, had come to this dilapidated Library Pavilion in the middle of the day, and even had her prepare hot water and undergarments?

That piece of trash inside didn't even have a spirit ring; what on earth was Her Excellency planning to do?

Angela swallowed hard, not daring to ask a single word.

Inside the Library Pavilion.

Su Chen knelt on the ground, maintaining the posture of one "not yet recovered from a serious illness," his peripheral vision sweeping across the light screen.

Bibi Dong raised her hand, casually striking in his direction.

The blow did not touch him, but the spirit energy of a Titled Douluo pressed down from the air, like a wall pushing against his chest.

Su Chen cooperated perfectly, beginning to "Cough, cough, cough!"

Violent coughing welled up from the depths of his throat; his knees went soft, and he let himself fall back onto the bamboo lounge chair, eyes closing, breathing ragged, his head lolling to one side.

He was faking a faint.

There was no help for it; with the awakening of his World Tree spirit, his physique had been greatly enhanced. Bibi Dong's strike wouldn't knock him out, so he had no choice but to pretend.

Bibi Dong watched the countdown jump to [05:00], her hands gripping the edges of her papal robe so tightly that her knuckles turned a ghastly white.

Wipe the body, change the undergarments.

These eight words were like red-hot iron, branded into her mind.

She looked at the "unconscious" Su Chen, two forces within her chest locked in a death struggle. The sense of humiliation surged like boiling water, and the shadow of the Soul-Devouring Pain gripped her throat once more.

One hundred and forty-four hours.

The previous seventy-two-hour warning had nearly broken her; if it doubled, she would be reduced to a cripple.

The countdown ticked to four and a half minutes.

Bibi Dong finally moved.

She stepped forward, her teeth biting into her lower lip until it broke, the taste of blood spreading in her mouth.

Her right hand rose, a faint trace of spirit power exhaling from her palm.

"Hum~"

The cold water in the wooden basin on the coffee table suddenly heated up, steam rising in curling wisps.

Outside the door, Angela caught the fluctuation of this spirit power, her heart trembling violently, cold sweat breaking out on her back.

Her Excellency had used force inside the Library Pavilion?

What capital crime had that piece of trash committed to be reduced to dust by Her Excellency's own hands?!

Angela gripped her sleeves, not daring to even draw a full breath.

Bibi Dong walked to the side of the bamboo chair.

She looked down at Su Chen's "unconscious" profile, trembling as she extended her hands, her fingertips pinching the first toggle button of his coarse cloth outer garment.

The sound of her fingertips rubbing against the fabric was exceptionally clear in the quiet Library Pavilion.

The first one, undone.

Her breathing skipped a beat.

The second one, undone.

The tips of her ears began to burn.

Meanwhile, Su Chen kept his eyes closed, the light screen of the Eye of Omniscience in his mind glowing steadily.

[Bibi Dong's heart rate is soaring: 132... 147...]

[Current Shame Level: 85%]

[Anger: 40%]

[Internal Monologue: He is unconscious... He knows nothing... This Seat is merely carrying out a mission...]

Su Chen gave a silent thumbs-up in his heart.

Your Excellency, your ability to deceive yourself is even deeper than mine.

His outer garment was pulled down to his sides.

Bibi Dong dipped a towel into warm water and wrung it out.

Her grip was too tight; the water wasn't fully wrung out, and a few droplets splashed onto the back of her own hand.

She stared fixedly at the towel, refusing to look at Su Chen's body, and suppressed the urge to throw this man out the window as she pressed the towel against him.

Her movements were clumsy, rigid, and carried an undisguised resistance.

However...

The moment the damp, warm towel touched his skin, the primordial life aura unique to the World Tree within Su Chen flowed silently and steadily through the moisture and the fibers of the towel, pouring into Bibi Dong's fingertips.

Crisp, ancient, and vast.

That aura surged straight through her meridians and flooded into her Sea of Divine Consciousness.

Bibi Dong's nerves, which had been stretched to the breaking point, along with the final trace of manic energy left behind by the Rakshasa God, dissipated completely in the face of this aura.

She opened her eyes in shock.

The sense of rejection in her body had vanished.

It hadn't just vanished; her hand remained on Su Chen's chest, the towel covering his warm skin, and she found she had no intention of pulling it back.

Her body was even instinctively, greedily devouring this aura, wanting to lean in closer.

What is this?

At the same time, outside the door, Angela suddenly caught a whiff of an aura seeping through the door crack.

It was so faint it was almost non-existent, yet it sent a tingling sensation deep into her soul.

It was a ripple of tranquility that would move even a Titled Douluo—sacred, pure, and belonging to no known type of soul power in this world.

Angela's eyes widened, her back pressed against the wall, her fingernails digging into her palms.

What on earth are they doing in there?

Through the light screen, Su Chen watched the drastic changes in Bibi Dong's emotional panel.

Shame had dropped from 85% to 61%.

Resistance had dropped from 72% to 34%.

And a new value was quietly climbing.

[Dependency: 27%]

The time had come.

Su Chen feigned an unconscious, low groan and shifted his body slightly on the lounge chair.

Just as Bibi Dong pressed the towel against him again.

His right hand slipped down.

The back of his warm hand brushed heavily, precisely, against the wrist Bibi Dong was using to hold the towel, their skin pressed tightly together.

Bibi Dong stiffened, the hair on her arms standing on end.

The instinct of a Titled Douluo made her subconsciously want to fling away this presumptuous hand, and the purple-black light of soul power had already begun to glow at her fingertips.

In her mind, a blood-red panel popped up frantically.

[Warning! Host's violent tendencies detected! If the Lord of Creation is harmed, the mission will be judged an immediate failure, and the one hundred and forty-four hours of Soul-Devouring Pain will be executed immediately!]

The soul power cut off.

Bibi Dong was nailed to the spot, not daring to move a muscle.

Su Chen's hand was pressed against her wrist, and the World Tree aura within him surged madly at the point of contact; the power that made her soul feel as if it were bathing in a spring breeze was ten times stronger than when it had been transmitted through the towel.

She felt something melting within her Sea of Divine Consciousness.

The humiliation remained, the shame and anger remained, but that craving for the life aura was like a vine wrapping around a withered tree, tightening with every passing moment.

The three emotions collided in her chest, making her feel as if she were about to explode.

Bibi Dong closed her eyes.

In the end, she did not shake off that hand.

In the following minutes, Bibi Dong gritted her teeth and wiped Su Chen's upper body clean, bit by bit.

Her movements remained rigid, but compared to her initial state—where she wanted to kill anyone she touched—there had been a change.

She took a fresh inner garment from the Black Wood Box, carefully helped Su Chen put it on, and tied the strings at his collar.

Throughout the entire process, her gaze remained averted, refusing to look at his face.

Watching the countdown stop at the final sixty seconds, Bibi Dong let out a long sigh of relief.

It was over.

This torment had finally come to an end.

She tossed the towel aside and turned to leave.

However, that cold, mechanical voice rang out in her mind once more.

[Ding~ The system determines that the "Change Undergarments" task has not been fully met. Detected that the Lord of Creation's lower undergarment has not been changed. Please continue downward, remove the Lord of Creation's final undergarment, and change it as well.]

Bibi Dong's feet were nailed to the spot.

Her gaze moved downward, beyond her control.

The drawstring of those coarse cloth trousers was tied in a loose knot at his waist, and beneath it was...

Bibi Dong's face turned beet red in an instant, the heat spreading from her cheeks to her earlobes, down to her neck, and all the way to her collarbone.

On the bamboo recliner, Su Chen lay with his eyes closed, his breathing steady.

On the light screen, Bibi Dong's Shame Level jumped to a number he had never seen before.

[Shame Level: 120% (Overflow)]