No Such Person? The Second Betrothal Gift Is About to Arrive

The news of the Celestial Master's grand wedding fermented throughout Martial Soul City for seven full days.

From the square in front of the Pope Palace to the vegetable market in the south of the city, from the spirit masters in the barracks to the old man repairing shoes at the street corner.

Everyone's lips repeated the same few terms over and over—Purple Gold Marriage Contract, ancient Celestial Master, Primordial Spirit Bead, breaking through fifteen levels in a row.

The teahouse was the liveliest spot.

"Have you heard? Her Highness the Saintess's martial soul has directly evolved into a Nine-Tailed Heavenly Fox! Nine tails, snow-white!"

"It's more than just a Nine-Tailed Heavenly Fox. I heard from the guards that her spirit power jumped straight from level sixty-nine to level eighty-four. A single bead accomplished what others couldn't achieve in a lifetime."

A middle-aged man wearing a coarse tunic tapped his pipe and shook his head.

"You only see the benefits? We don't even know what kind of background Shen Yichen has. Giving away such massive benefits for free—isn't he after something?"

"After what? He stated it clearly enough: he wants to marry the Saintess as his Daoist partner."

"That's different."

The middle-aged man lowered his voice:

"What if he's targeting Martial Soul Hall? Winning over the Saintess is equivalent to planting a nail right beside His Holiness the Pope. Think about it: the great battle at Jialing Pass is imminent. A high-level expert of unknown origin suddenly appears at this time and sets his sights on the most promising young generation of our Martial Soul Hall—this is no coincidence."

The teahouse fell silent for two seconds.

A young spirit master at the next table scoffed.

"I don't know about coincidences, but I know one thing—when the pressure from that Primordial Spirit Bead descended, His Holiness the Pope was sent flying over ten zhang. If even His Holiness the Pope couldn't block a single betrothal gift, why would someone like that need to beat around the bush if he wanted to scheme against anyone?"

No one replied.

This statement blocked off all conspiracy theories.

Does someone capable of invoking the Heavenly Dao need to play dirty?

Pope Palace, secret chamber.

Bibi Dong sat behind a long table, her right hand wrapped in thick medicinal gauze, resting on the surface.

It had been seven days, yet the aftereffects of that Daoist energy's scorching had not fully faded. A sharp pain would occasionally dart through her meridians, reminding her of the humiliation that day.

A dozen secret reports were spread across the table, each cover stamped with the highest-level red seal of Martial Soul Hall.

They were all investigations into Shen Yichen.

She flipped through them one by one.

Tiandang Mountain—spies spent five days searching the entire mountain range and indeed found the ruins of an ancient temple, but it was empty, with only half-collapsed stone walls and a few broken pillars.

No Daoists, no disciples, and no traces of any recent activity.

Star Dou Great Forest—not a single hunter on the edge of the forest or resident in the nearby villages had ever heard the name "Taixu Temple."

Major empires—Heaven Dou, Star Luo, Balaque... the results from all undercover agents were identical: no such person, no such temple.

Bibi Dong closed the final report and tapped her fingertips against the table three times.

Nothing could be found.

A person capable of invoking the power of the Heavenly Dao and casually producing a heaven-defying treasure like the Primordial Spirit Bead had left absolutely no trace across the entire Douluo Continent.

It wasn't that he was hiding well.

It was that he simply did not exist within the rule system of this world.

This realization sent a chill down Bibi Dong's spine.

She could deal with visible enemies and scheme against opponents she could fathom, but an unknown existence that completely exceeded her scope of cognition—

She did not know how to respond.

Sea God Island, Sea God Hall.

Tang San sat cross-legged in the center of the hall, golden divine light enveloping his entire body, the Sea God Trident resting across his knees. His brows were tightly knitted.

The eighth trial had been underway for half a month.

According to his original calculations, given his current strength and comprehension, the eighth trial should have taken at most another ten days to complete.

But the actual situation was far worse than expected—his cultivation speed had slowed by nearly half, and the growth of his spirit power had become sluggish. Every time he circulated his energy, it took thirty percent longer than before.

Even more annoying were those inexplicable mishaps.

Three days ago, at a critical moment while absorbing the Sea God's power, a piece of rubble suddenly fell from the hall ceiling, striking the Sea God Trident. The vibration interrupted his meditation, nearly causing a cultivation deviation.

Yesterday, when he mobilized his Blue Silver Emperor martial soul to perform the core trial of the eighth test, the luck within his body suddenly experienced a momentary void—in that single instant, his Blue Silver Emperor Domain collapsed, and it took two full hours to re-condense.

This was no coincidence; something was suppressing him.

Tang San opened his eyes, the golden light on the Sea God Trident dimming by three parts.

The feeling of his luck being constrained was becoming increasingly clear.

It wasn't being stripped away; it was as if an invisible hand was pressing down on the crown of his head, causing all his paths of advancement to narrow.

Shen Yichen.

Ever since the day the intelligence arrived from the disciples of Sea God Island, this name had been carved into his mind.

Tang San stood up and walked to the window of the Sea God Hall.

Outside the window lay the boundless ocean, waves churning as the salty, fishy wind poured in.

He could not delay any longer.

The eighth trial had to be completed within five days, and the ninth trial also required full-speed acceleration.

Only by completely finishing the Sea God inheritance and becoming the true Sea God could he possibly break free from this suppression.

For every day he delayed, the gap widened by another fraction.

God Realm, Asura Palace.

The hall was dim, with only the blood-red light flowing from the Asura Sword reflecting on the black walls, flickering on and off.

Asura God sat cross-legged in the center of the hall, refining a wisp of divine origin.

But his divine sense caught a hint of anomaly.

A fluctuation of Heavenly Dao power had appeared in the lower realm.

At the time, Asura God did not pay it any mind; strange phenomena of heaven and earth occasionally appeared in the lower realm, not worth making a fuss over.

Yet that fluctuation did not vanish; instead, it continued to strengthen.

What unsettled him even more was that Tang San's destiny was visibly waning.

Asura God opened his eyes, a flash of blood-red light crossing his vertical pupils as his divine sense pierced through the barrier between the God Realm and the mortal world, casting its gaze toward Douluo Continent.

Above Martial Soul City, a Purple Gold Marriage Contract hung motionless.

Asura God's divine sense landed on that marriage contract—

Hum.

A repulsive force rebounded from the marriage contract; it was light, yet it forced Asura God's divine sense back by three feet.

Inside the Asura Palace, Asura God's fingers curled slightly.

He released his divine sense once more, this time using thirty percent of his divine power.

The result was the same.

He was repelled.

Asura God sat bolt upright. His vertical pupils locked onto that marriage contract, the blood-red light within them pulsing violently.

A single marriage contract had repelled a probe backed by thirty percent of his divine power.

What did this mean?

It meant that the owner of that marriage contract was at least—at the very least—a presence above the God King level.

Since when had such a thing emerged in the lower realm?

Asura God's hand pressed onto the hilt of the Asura Sword, and the blood-red light in the hall suddenly surged, doubling in intensity.

Martial Soul City.

The dusk of the seventh day.

Hu Liena emerged from the training grounds, her six fox tails tucked behind her, her steps light and quick.

For the past few days, she had been adapting to her surging soul power; the strength of level eighty-four operated completely differently than before, and every wisp of soul power was refined to a degree of purity she could not even fathom.

She passed through the corridor, and as she walked by the council chamber, she heard the conversation between Bibi Dong and Chrysanthemum Douluo, causing her steps to falter.

"—All the scouts have returned empty-handed."

Chrysanthemum Douluo's voice carried an irrepressible anxiety.

"This person, Shen Yichen, is as if he appeared out of thin air. There isn't even a ghost to be found at that old temple on Tiandang Mountain. Your Majesty, what do you think this—"

"There is no need to investigate further."

Bibi Dong's voice cut him off, excessively calm.

"If we cannot find anything, it means the other party has no intention of letting us find them. To force an investigation will only alert the enemy."

Hu Liena did not linger, quickening her pace as she walked past.

Yet, her heart was in turmoil.

No background could be found.

A person capable of stirring the Heavenly Dao, yet leaving not a single trace across the entire continent.

She had hoped to find at least something—a master, an origin, a past—even if it were just a vague outline.

But there was nothing.

It was as if Shen Yichen had been born out of thin air, appearing from the very fabric of the world.

Hu Liena stopped in her tracks when she reached the center of the courtyard.

The Fox Seal between her brows suddenly burned with intense heat.

She jerked her head upward.

The last sliver of the setting sun still clung to the western sky, but in the east—

On the eastern horizon, a vast, surging tide of purple energy was rolling toward them.

The purple energy blanketed the sky, stretching from the horizon to the zenith, dyeing the entire firmament a magnificent purple-gold.

Auspicious clouds gathered from all directions, piling up in layers above Martial Soul City, where faint, flickering phantoms of dragons, phoenixes, qilin, and cranes could be seen amidst the clouds.

The spiritual energy between heaven and earth began to surge frantically, its concentration increasing more than tenfold in just a few breaths.

The commotion far exceeded that of the Primordial Spirit Bead's arrival seven days ago.

The doors of the Pope Palace were flung open, and Bibi Dong, Xie Yue, Chrysanthemum Douluo, and Ghost Douluo rushed out one after another.

Bibi Dong stood at the highest step before the palace, her right hand, wrapped in medicinal gauze, raised to her forehead to shield her eyes from the piercing purple-gold radiance.

"The omen of a supreme treasure descending."

She enunciated each word clearly:

"The second betrothal gift is about to arrive."

Hu Liena's heart leaped into her throat.

Her six fox tails stood upright uncontrollably, and the tips of her ears popped out from her hair, trembling slightly toward the east.

Amidst the rolling auspicious clouds, a grand and distant Heavenly Sanskrit Sound pierced through the layers, traveling from afar and growing clearer and clearer—

As if it were ringing right beside her ears.