Illegitimate Child?!

Guang Ling's phoenix eyes swept back and forth between Qiangu Jun and the child in his arms three times, his mouth twitching twice.

Then—

"Qian Jun!! Is this your illegitimate child from the outside world!?"

This shout echoed several times throughout the vast hall of the Offering Hall.

Qiangu Jun's footsteps faltered.

Qiangu Po's face turned pitch black.

Guang Ling was completely oblivious, becoming even more excited instead. He clapped his hands against his own face, wearing the expression of someone who had finally stumbled upon the juiciest gossip after living for so many years.

"Splendid! Simply splendid, Qian Jun!"

Guang Ling circled around to stand in front of Qiangu Jun, his phoenix eyes narrowing into two crescent moons. He laughed until he was trembling, waving a finger back and forth in front of Qiangu Jun.

"You thick-browed, big-eyed fellow! You usually look so honest and upright, the very image of a gentleman. You've cultivated for nearly a hundred years, never getting close to women, and you don't even crack a joke in the Offering Hall! I used to think you were a—"

He paused, looking Qiangu Jun up and down.

"Who would have thought! Who would have thought! You've actually been hiding this from all of us—"

Guang Ling rubbed his hands together, his expression couldn't have been more animated.

"Tell me! Who is the child's mother? When did this happen? How did you meet? Did you do it on the way to the Far North—no, wait, this child looks at least five or six years old, so wouldn't that have been several years ago?"

"You hid this really well, Qian Jun!"

Guang Ling grew more spirited as he spoke, circling Qiangu Jun several times like a cat that had just discovered a dried fish.

"Hey, hey, Jiang Mo! Did you know about this all along? Were you helping your big brother keep it from us? No wonder you stopped me just now!"

Guang Ling turned his head to look at Qiangu Po, his phoenix eyes flashing with intensity.

Qiangu Po's face had reached the peak of darkness.

He took a deep breath, raised his hand to rub his brow with his thumb and forefinger, and said in a tone of extreme restraint:

"Guang Ling."

"Hmm?"

"Shut up."

"..."

Guang Ling's mouth opened, and he finally had the sense to stop for half a second.

But it was only half a second.

"No, Jiang Mo, don't be in such a rush to make me shut up!" Guang Ling put his hands on his hips, speaking with righteous indignation. "You two brothers go out on a trip and come back with a child in your arms, and you won't even let me ask? There's no such logic in this world!"

He stretched his neck to peek into Qiangu Jun's arms again.

"Besides... this child doesn't look like you at all, Qian Jun." Guang Ling tilted his head, his gaze lingering for a moment on Ning Zha's pale, delicate little face. "The child is quite handsome, though... two topknots, a cinnabar mark on his brow, a boy with the features of a girl; he looks like a fairy child who walked right out of a painting."

"Hiss, but why is his complexion so white?"

Guang Ling's expression gradually shifted from gossip to suspicion.

His perception was, after all, at the level of a Titled Douluo. He had been so preoccupied by the explosive guess of an "illegitimate child" that now, as he calmed down slightly, the odd details began to surface one by one.

The child's life force... was too weak.

So weak it was like a spider thread that could snap at any moment.

He looked at Qiangu Jun.

"Qian Jun. What exactly is going on with this child?"

Qiangu Jun ignored Guang Ling and simply asked:

"I don't have time to explain so much to you. Is the Great Offering here?"

Guang Ling was startled, then immediately straightened his expression. "Why don't you tell me about the problem first? What if I have a way to help?"

Qiangu Jun was silent for a moment, stopping in front of a long table in the center of the hall. He carefully placed the coarse cloth bundle from his arms onto the tabletop and gently opened the wrapping.

Ning Zha's full appearance was revealed under the candlelight.

A pale face, a quiet sleeping expression. His plain clothes were neat, and his two topknots were perfectly in place. His chest rose and fell slightly, his breathing light, shallow, and steady.

Qiangu Jun straightened up and glanced at Qiangu Po.

Qiangu Po nodded slightly.

Then, Qiangu Jun turned to Guang Ling and spoke, his tone calm and heavy.

"He is not an illegitimate child."

"This child's name is Ning Zha."

"Seven years old."

"He comes from a branch family of the Seven Treasures Glazed Sect."

Guang Ling raised an eyebrow.

Qiangu Jun did not pause, continuing his account. His narrative was concise and restrained, devoid of superfluous adjectives or emotional embellishment.

Yet every sentence was like a nail, driven straight into the ears of Feather Light.

In the West Market of Heaven Dou City, a direct descendant of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan forcibly abducted a young woman in broad daylight and struck down an elderly man.

A seven-year-old child with no martial soul witnessed the injustice and, with nothing but his bare fists, crippled the perpetrator.

Yu Kun, an elder of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, led a group to demand retribution. A seven-ring Soul Saint, forcing a seven-year-old child to pay with his life.

Fearing they would be implicated, the child's own kin decided to hand him over.

His father, Ning Jing, kicked him to the ground in public, pinning him down by the spine and leaving him to his fate.

His mother, Yin Suzhi, kowtowed and begged for mercy, offering her own life in exchange, but was refused.

And that seven-year-old child—

In front of everyone.

Cut his flesh to return it to his father.

Scraped his bones to return them to his mother.

Severed all ties with his clan.

And drew his sword to take his own life.

Qiangu Jun's voice remained steady throughout, as if he were recounting a matter that had nothing to do with him.

But when he spoke the final word, the entire hall of the Offering Hall fell as silent as a tomb.

Feather Light stood where he was, unmoving.

The playful expression on his refined, handsome face had vanished entirely. In its place was a profound, heavy silence.

His phoenix eyes lowered slightly, his gaze falling upon the small figure on the stone table.

Two topknots. A vermilion mark between his brows. A pale face, quiet breathing.

Seven years old.

Only seven years old.

"..."

Perhaps when people hear something utterly unacceptable, they fall into a brief silence before letting out a wordless laugh.

That was exactly what Feather Light did.

"Heh..."

He did not know why he laughed.

But he laughed nonetheless.

Then, he closed his eyes.

He stood there, motionless.

The eternal lamps in the hall burned silently, their flames unmoving in the stagnant air.

A moment later.

Feather Light opened his eyes.

Those phoenix eyes, usually carrying a hint of laziness and cynicism, were now as clear and cold as ice.

There was no rage, no sorrow.

Only an extremely calm—coldness.

It was as if he were no longer the boisterous, mischievous child who referred to himself as "this old man."

Nor was he the flighty character who had just been gossiping about illegitimate children.

At this moment, Feather Light Douluo wore a solemn expression, his temperament icy and detached, radiating an awe-inspiring aura of dignity.

It was as if he had become a different person.

"Then how is he still alive?"

Feather Light's gaze returned to Ning Zha, his voice regaining some composure, though it now carried an unconcealable gravity.

"That is the reason we brought him back," Qiangu Jun said.

He held his palm three inches above Ning Zha's body, a faint light emanating from it.

"After he was buried by his mother, we went to leave our aura at the grave to deter wild beasts. During our inspection, we discovered—there is an extremely unique power within his body."

"This power surged spontaneously from his bone marrow, bloodlines, and internal organs, repairing all of his fatal wounds. The gash on his neck, the blade wound on his left arm, the sword wound in his chest—all of them healed. Not even a scar remains."

"A seven-year-old child with no martial soul, no innate soul power—"

Qiangu Jun looked up, his gaze heavy as he met Feather Light's eyes.

"Healed his own fatal wounds and returned from the dead."

Feather Light's pupils contracted slightly.

He lowered his head once more, gazing at the sleeping Ning Zha on the stone table.

This time, he looked very carefully.

He even used his soul power to tentatively probe Ning Zha's body.

Yet the more he probed, the deeper Guang Ling's brow furrowed.

A moment later, he withdrew his hand and raised his head again.

"You two go find the Great Offering; he should be in the main hall performing his prayers right now."

"This child's condition is not something we can judge."

Guang Ling looked at Qiangu Jun, a sharp light gleaming in his phoenix eyes.

"The Great Offering must see him personally."

Qiangu Jun nodded slightly.

"That was my intention as well."

Qiangu Po glanced at Guang Ling. He suddenly felt that this fellow, who usually lacked any sense of decorum, actually possessed a bit of the dignity befitting a Fifth Offering when he was occasionally serious.

"I'll go then." The two turned to leave.

"Wait." Guang Ling suddenly called out to them again.

Qiangu Po turned back.

Guang Ling walked to the stone table, took off his own moon-white, gold-trimmed robe, and gently draped it over Ning Zha.

The robe was wide and soft, wrapping the small body entirely and leaving only a pale, quiet face exposed.

"The mornings in the Offering Hall are cold."

Guang Ling said, his tone indifferent.

"Don't let him catch a chill."