Luck Drained Dry, Tang San: Please Stop Giving Gifts

"The sixth betrothal gift... it is finally coming."

Bibi Dong looked up, her voice lowered to a murmur.

On the steps before the Pope Palace, Hu Liena stood by her side, her fingers tightly clutching her sleeves. She had only just recovered from the previous Divine Punishment, and the Tribulation-Avoiding Garment clung to her body, its Golden Toad patterns rising and falling slowly, sending out waves of steadying warmth. Yet, even so, her heart hammered violently against her chest.

It was not fear.

It was nervousness, anticipation, and a flutter of emotion she could not quite define.

The sky had changed again.

It was not the golden clouds that had blanketed the heavens last time, nor the suffocating purple-black Tribulation Cloud that descended during the Divine Punishment.

This time, the clouds above Martial Soul City seemed to be torn apart by some immense force, only to be kneaded back together, stacked, and solidified.

Amidst the churning layers of cloud, a phantom of absurd proportions was gradually revealing its outline.

First the head.

Then the horns.

And finally, the gaping maw.

It was a Pixiu.

It was so vast it obscured half the sky, its neck arched high, fangs bared, with black and gold energy churning in its throat as if it could swallow the entire world in a single gulp.

Before it had even fully materialized, the spiritual energy around Martial Soul City had already descended into chaos.

It was not flowing; it was being dragged.

Dragged upward by that mouth with such force that the very air grew taut.

The spirit masters in the plaza looked up one after another.

No one spoke.

Last time, the Tribulation-Avoiding Garment swallowing the Divine Punishment had already shattered everyone's perception of reality.

Now that the sixth betrothal gift had arrived, and with such a grand entrance, who would dare treat this as a mere treasure?

Hu Liena stared at the Pixiu phantom in the sky, her eyelids twitching.

What would it be this time?

The previous five betrothal gifts had been more ruthless than the last.

The Primordial Pearl had altered her foundation, the Fate-Suppressing Cauldron had suppressed Tang San's fortune, the Severing Thought Sword had protected her Divine Soul, the Star River Map had propelled her cultivation, and the Tribulation-Avoiding Garment had directly swallowed the Divine Punishment for her.

Five items, five different paths, and not one of them followed any logic.

She had originally thought that after blocking the Divine Punishment, she might find a moment of peace.

But that was impossible.

The further it went, the more she wanted to know what else Shen Yichen had prepared for her.

And the more she wanted to know exactly how far that man was willing to go to protect her.

"Teacher."

Hu Liena spoke, her throat tight.

"What... will this one be?"

Bibi Dong did not turn back.

She simply stared at the slowly solidifying Pixiu, her hands tightening within her sleeves.

"Judging by this omen, it is likely related to fortune."

After saying this, her gaze darkened.

There was already a Fate-Suppressing Cauldron.

And now, something related to a Pixiu.

Hu Liena might not immediately grasp the deeper implications, but Bibi Dong could.

She saw it clearly—Shen Yichen was not merely gifting treasures; he was laying out a grand strategy.

Suppressing Tang San, elevating Hu Liena; one push and one pull, every step landing precisely on the vital points of fate.

If this sixth betrothal gift was truly what she suspected...

Then Tang San would likely be driven to madness.

Hu Liena said nothing more.

She, too, thought of Tang San.

Thinking of that man who had forcibly ascended to godhood, only to be held firmly in check by the Fate-Suppressing Cauldron, a strange premonition suddenly stirred in her heart.

This betrothal gift was likely not as simple as "helping her grow stronger."

It was likely aimed directly at Tang San.

Sea God Island.

"No... don't come again..."

Tang San clutched his head, kneeling on one knee upon the stone steps outside the Sea God Hall, his voice raspy as if scorched by fire.

He had already become a god.

The Sea God Divine Armor adorned his body, blue-gold divine light swirling around him, and the Trident stood by his side, its tip trembling as if ready to trigger a ten-thousand-mile tsunami at any moment.

Yet at this moment, he looked nothing like a god.

He looked more like a gambler on the verge of madness.

He sensed the anomaly in the sky.

The fluctuations of heaven and earth emanating from the direction of Martial Soul City could not be suppressed, even across ten thousand miles of ocean.

The moment that aura appeared, his mind "buzzed," and his temples began to throb with pain.

It was happening again.

Shen Yichen was sending betrothal gifts again.

As soon as this thought surfaced, Tang San felt a suffocating panic in his chest.

The first five layers had already driven him to this point.

The Fate-Suppressing Cauldron was suppressing his destiny, refusing to let go; even though he had become the Sea God, that cauldron remained firmly locked over his fate, weighing down his very godhood.

Now, with the sixth layer coming—

How was he supposed to live?!

Tang San snapped his head up, looking toward the mainland.

His Sea God divine sense unfurled.

He saw it.

Above Martial Soul City, clouds churned as the phantom of a massive Pixiu slowly coalesced.

Its mouth opened toward the heavens, black and gold energy swirling within, a sight that made one's scalp tingle the longer they looked.

Tang San's face turned deathly pale.

He did not know exactly what this was.

But he had an intuition.

A very bad intuition.

That thing... was coming for him.

"No... don't send any more..."

Tang San pressed his hand against his forehead, his knuckles turning white, his voice trembling with the onset of a breakdown.

"I beg you... don't send any more!"

If outsiders were to hear this, their eyes would surely pop out of their sockets.

The Sea God Tang San.

The new god of the Douluo Continent.

Now, across ten thousand miles of ocean, he was begging a Celestial Master he had never met to "please stop sending them."

But Tang San could no longer care about his pride.

Because in the next instant, the head of that Pixiu phantom turned.

It did not face Martial Soul City.

It did not face the Pope Palace.

Instead, it aimed with terrifying precision directly at Sea God Island.

Tang San's back went rigid.

It was over.

As this thought exploded in his mind, the heavy suppression deep within his fate suddenly shuddered.

It was as if something had resonated with the Fate-Suppressing Cauldron.

Immediately following, a more ferocious, more domineering devouring force descended from the void, biting directly into his pillar of destiny.

Tang San's vision went black, and his body swayed violently.

"Ah—!"

A scream was forced from his throat.

It was not an illusion.

It was not a psychological effect.

His destiny was truly draining away.

It was no longer the gradual erosion caused by the Fate-Suppressing Cauldron; it was ten times, dozens of times faster! It was gushing out frantically, as if a floodgate had been thrown wide open!

Tang San could even "see" his own fortune being siphoned away.

A golden pillar of fortune that should have soared into the heavens was now being clamped firmly by that invisible giant maw, ripped away in massive, sweeping swathes.

The golden light detached from the top of his head, transforming into wisps of destiny-force invisible to the naked eye, crossing ten thousand miles of mountains and seas, heading straight for Martial Soul City.

"My fortune..."

Tang San's lips trembled.

"My fortune!!!"

He lunged upward, clawing at the air above his head as if trying to snatch back the things that were slipping away.

But he couldn't catch them. He couldn't catch anything.

That was his destiny, his opportunities, the foundation of his godhood—the "Heavenly Mandate" he had fought tooth and nail to earn.

Now, it was all leaking out.

And there was no way to stop it.

Yu Xiaogang rushed out from the hall, and upon seeing Tang San's state, his face drained of color.

"San!"

He crouched down, reaching out to steady him.

The moment he touched Tang San's shoulder, Tang San flung him aside.

"Don't touch me!"

The three words were practically roared.

Tang San's eyes were bloodshot, the veins on his forehead bulging, and even the blue-gold divine light of his Sea God Divine Armor was flickering violently.

He stared fixedly in the direction of the mainland, his teeth grinding audibly, blood even seeping from the corners of his mouth.

Why?

Why was it like this again!

He had already become a god!

Why could that Celestial Master force him into such a state without even showing his face, relying solely on a few betrothal gifts?!

By what right?!

Yu Xiaogang was stunned by the roar, his hand frozen in mid-air, unable to utter a single word.

He, too, had seen the anomaly in the sky.

He, too, saw that something was wrong with Tang San's condition.

But he had absolutely no idea what to do.

A struggle for fortune at the god-level was no longer something a theoretical master like him could interfere with.

The only thing he could understand now was one point—Tang San was being hollowed out.

And it was being done with ruthless efficiency.