Old Man! Are You Going to Fight Tang Chen One-on-One or Not?!

"Hmph!"

Qian Xunji let out a heavy grunt. He turned around, his gaze like a torch as he declared, "Nothing is impossible!"

He paced twice across the hall, his robes dragging against the floor with a faint sound, before he suddenly stopped and asked, "Is there any other way?"

"There is."

Zhao Linchuan continued, "Host a tournament and invite everyone under heaven to watch, with no restrictions on entry."

"Then..." He raised his head, his eyes clear and bright, "Let the young talents of our Spirit Hall defeat the direct disciples of those sects in their strongest form, right in front of the entire world."

The hall fell silent for a moment. Qian Xunji did not answer immediately.

He turned around, his gaze landing on Bibi Dong as if seeking her opinion.

"What do you think of this idea?"

Bibi Dong bowed slightly and replied, "Linchuan's idea is excellent."

She straightened up, her gaze firm as she said, "In recent years, the sects have been gaining too much momentum."

"Especially the Clear Sky Twin Stars. There have been rumors outside that, in time, the Clear Sky Sect will produce a second Clear Sky Douluo."

Her voice deepened, "By then, our Spirit Hall will decline completely."

She looked at Qian Xunji, her tone resolute, "Therefore, I strongly agree with Linchuan's plan."

"To defeat the successors of those sects in our strongest form."

"To show those sects on the continent that are stirring with restless ambition just how powerful the new generation of Spirit Hall soul masters is!"

As Qian Xunji listened, the gloom on his face gradually dissipated, replaced by a sense of smug satisfaction.

"Very good!" He nodded heavily, his voice eager, "We shall do exactly that. You two may leave now."

"Yes." Zhao Linchuan and Bibi Dong exchanged a glance, bowed in unison, and walked out of the hall side by side.

The hall returned to silence.

Qian Xunji stood alone in the center of the vast, empty hall. The smile on his face slowly faded as he muttered to himself, "It is time to go see that useless old man of mine..."

About a quarter of an hour later.

The Consecration Hall, the residence of Qian Daoliu.

This was a courtyard so simple it was almost bland, a stark contrast to the grand and imposing style of Spirit Hall.

In the courtyard, there was only one table, one chair, and an old pine tree; there were no other furnishings.

Qian Xunji stood in the courtyard, holding the Angel Holy Sword horizontally with both hands. He pressed the blade against his own neck, the cold, sharp edge biting into his skin.

His voice was loud, echoing throughout the entire courtyard.

"Old man! Are you going to go and duel Tang Chen or not?!"

Qian Xunji stared at the figure sitting with his back to him, his voice rising even higher, "If you don't go, I will die right in front of you!"

Qian Daoliu's back remained motionless.

Qian Xunji looked at that silent back, his Adam's apple bobbing as a note of reckless desperation crept into his voice.

"Old man! I am your only son!"

"Even if I am a bit useless, I am still your own flesh and blood!"

The sword in his hand pressed tighter against his neck; the blade sliced through the skin, drawing a thin line of crimson.

"If I die, your bloodline will end with me!"

"You scoundrel—!"

Qian Daoliu's voice was like a thunderclap on flat ground, shaking the entire courtyard.

His figure vanished from where he sat.

In the next instant, he appeared before Qian Xunji like an angel.

His right hand rose, moving so fast that not even an afterimage could be seen.

"SMACK—!!"

A resounding slap.

Qian Xunji didn't even have time to scream before he was sent flying like a cannonball, crashing heavily into the courtyard wall.

"BOOM—!"

The solid wall was dented, with cracks spreading out like a spiderweb.

Qian Xunji slid down from the wall and slumped to the ground. Half of his face was swollen, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

Qian Daoliu stood before him, his chest heaving violently, his hands trembling with rage.

"You bastard! Is this how you threaten your own father?"

His voice was low and hoarse, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth.

He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his surging rage, and said coldly, "I am asking you, what is going on with that group of spirit masters who died in the deep sea?"

Qian Xunji's body stiffened noticeably; he dared not answer, nor did he dare to speak.

Rolling his eyes, he simply lay down on the floor, closed his eyes, and remained motionless, beginning to play dead.

Watching his son's cowardly display of daring to commit the act but refusing to own up to it, Qian Daoliu felt his temples throbbing.

He truly regretted not having wiped this good-for-nothing off the wall back then!

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled.

After repeating this several times, he finally managed to suppress that burning anger.

"Tang Chen and I have already made an agreement."

"In a few days, we will set off for the deep sea to investigate the matter."

He turned around, his back to Qian Xunji who was slumped on the floor, and gazed at the old pine tree in the courtyard.

"As far as I know, Tang Chen intends to roam the world in search of a divine inheritance."

"Once we leave, it is highly likely he will not return."

He sighed, the sigh light, yet seemingly heavy with the weight of a thousand jun.

"During the time we are away, do whatever you wish."

His voice carried a hint of indulgence. "Even if Tang Chen were to return, this father can still cover for you."

He was silent for a moment, then suddenly remembered something and tilted his head slightly.

"Oh, right." His tone became more casual. "That boy named Zhao Linchuan is quite good. He is much stronger than you were at his age, and it is very likely he has a connection to the gods."

Qian Xunji scrambled up from the floor, brushed the dust off his clothes, and listened obediently.

"Golden Crocodile went under my orders to take him as a disciple, but that is not enough."

Qian Daoliu turned around, his gaze landing on his son's face.

"You must find a way to keep him in Spirit Hall permanently."

He enunciated each word clearly, "Do you understand?"

Qian Xunji covered his swollen cheek and chuckled, "Yes..."

Elsewhere.

After leaving Pope Hall, Zhao Linchuan and Bibi Dong did not part ways but walked side by side through the winding corridors of Spirit Hall, heading straight toward the Judgment Hall.

Beneath the Judgment Hall lay the dungeons.

The dungeons were built extremely deep; the further down they went, the colder and damper the air became. The torches on the walls crackled, casting long, dark shadows of the two.

The guards recognized Bibi Dong's attire and bowed their heads to let them pass, none daring to ask a single question.

The two stopped outside a cell. The cage was not large, and a figure was curled up on some hay in the corner, fast asleep.

Bibi Dong's gaze fell upon the person, her brows knitting slightly.

The prisoner bore no signs of injury, and though his robes were wrinkled, they were clean, without even a trace of blood.

She turned her head to look at the guard standing nearby, whose forehead was already beaded with sweat, her voice turning cold.

"What is the meaning of this? Did I not order you to interrogate him strictly?"

The guard trembled, hurriedly bowing as he spoke in a distressed and fearful tone, "Your Highness, this prisoner is of great importance, and his identity is far too special. We subordinates... we dared not use torture."