The corners of Ji Ye's lips lifted slightly, forming a calm smile.
He first turned his head and glanced sideways at Bibi Dong's livid face, then immediately adopted a respectful expression and cupped his hands toward Qian Daoliu in midair.
"This junior, Ji Ye, greets Grand Pontiff."
Ji Ye's voice was not loud, yet it clearly reached the ears of everyone present.
He paused, gratitude perfectly measured in his tone. "Just now, Her Holiness intended to pass the position of Pope to this junior, so she sparred with me to test my strength and character. Thank you for your guidance, Your Holiness!"
The moment those words left his mouth, the air seemed to freeze.
Bibi Dong's pupils contracted sharply as she fixed her gaze on Ji Ye's smiling face.
In an instant, she understood what the brat meant.
He was using his words to shut her up!
If she dared to step forward and refute him now, or utter even half a word of denial, Ji Ye would definitely expose her ugly display from earlier—her furious attempt to kill him and seize power—right in front of Qian Daoliu.
By then, her reputation in Spirit Hall would be utterly ruined, and even Qian Daoliu's trust in her would completely collapse.
That damned brat was actually using their battle as leverage, forcing her to swallow this silent loss!
Bibi Dong clenched her teeth, humiliation and unwillingness flashing through her eyes. Yet beneath Qian Daoliu's calm but unfathomable gaze, she could only force herself to swallow every trace of killing intent.
"...Mm."
Bibi Dong squeezed out a single word through gritted teeth and gave a cold snort, reluctantly accepting the explanation.
Qian Daoliu was slightly taken aback, surprise flashing in his eyes.
He looked at Bibi Dong, then at Ji Ye, muttering inwardly,