After Qian Lingche left, Bibi Dong stood for a long time on the terrace of the Pope Palace.
The night wind swept the chill from Frost Snow Palace across her gold-patterned cloak. She kept her eyes fixed on the faint outline of the Six-Winged Angel statue atop the Worship Hall.
"Gui Mei."
Ghost Douluo emerged from the shadows and knelt on one knee. "Your Holiness the Pope."
"Have Lin Yuan serve under Qian Lingche tomorrow." She gazed toward the Worship Hall, her fingertips tapping a steady rhythm on the railing. "There's no need to prepare her ninth Soul Ring."
Ghost Douluo bowed his head in assent, but at her last words, he suddenly looked up. "But Lin Yuan is stuck at level 89..."
"Isn't that fellow, the Fifth Consecrator, with Qian Lingche?" Bibi Dong finally turned around. The bead curtain hanging from her purple-gold crown swayed gently in the night wind. "The two of them will find a way."
Ghost Douluo's Adam's apple bobbed twice, but in the end, he swallowed his question.
As he rose, he noticed that the pressure of the Pope's left hand on the railing was unusually heavy. Several fine cracks had already appeared in the white jade surface.
Only after Ghost Douluo had withdrawn did Bibi Dong release her grip on the railing.
碎裂的石屑从指缝簌簌落下,随著夜风飘向了远方.
Morning mist shrouded Frost Snow Palace. Qian Lingche and Guang Ling were sitting in a side hall, having breakfast.
Steam still rose from the white rice porridge on the wooden table. Guang Ling had just peeled a boiled egg when a chorus of orderly footsteps suddenly sounded outside the hall.
"This subordinate, Lin Yuan, has brought eleven colleagues from the Pope Palace to request an audience with the Young Master."
The announcement made Qian Lingche set down his chopsticks. He turned to look at the person beside him.
Guang Ling crushed the eggshell in his fingers and looked at Qian Lingche in confusion. "Did you arrange to meet with people from the Pope Palace this morning?"
"No." Qian Lingche wiped the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief and raised his voice toward the door. "Come in."
Two guards pushed open the hall doors, and Lin Yuan led her group across the threshold.
This level-89 Soul Douluo wore a dark-red fitted outfit. Behind her followed a Cardinal Soul Douluo in a red robe, with ten black-clad Soul Saints bringing up the rear.
"Her Holiness the Pope issued an order last night." Lin Yuan knelt on one knee and presented a document sealed with purple-gold wax in both hands. "She ordered us to come and await the Young Master's commands."
Qian Lingche accepted the document, then noticed Guang Ling examining Lin Yuan and the Cardinal behind her.
"One level 89, one level 88?" Guang Ling suddenly asked.
"Yes." Lin Yuan remained kneeling. "This subordinate's Martial Soul is the Blazing Fire Spirit Kite. I'm already at the threshold and will soon break through to level 90."
Qian Lingche nodded and calmly looked at the Cardinal behind Lin Yuan. His tone was indifferent. "What's your name?"
The Cardinal stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and saluted Qian Lingche. "In answer to the Young Master, this subordinate is Ji Lin. My Martial Soul is the Flowing Light Harp, and I'm level 88."
Qian Lingche gave a quiet "Hmm." His gaze lingered on Ji Lin for a moment before passing over the ten people behind him.
"Are you sure you want to follow me? I should warn you that there probably won't be much of a future for you by my side."
As soon as he finished speaking, Lin Yuan was the first to kneel on one knee. Ji Lin and the ten black-clad Soul Saints behind her followed suit in unison.
"This subordinate will never regret it!" they declared together, their resolute voices echoing through the hall.
So what if this Young Master was neglected? With innate Soul Power of level 20 and the talent of a divine-level Martial Soul, he was worth following.
Qian Lingche watched them, a complicated look flashing through his eyes.
He fell silent for a moment, then spoke in a gentler tone. "Since you've made up your minds, you may stay."
Lin Yuan raised her head, her gaze resolute. "Rest assured, Young Master. This subordinate will not betray your trust."
After Lin Yuan and the others withdrew, the hall returned to quiet.
Guang Ling and Qian Lingche sat back down at the table. Steam still curled up from the white rice porridge, but the atmosphere had grown heavy.
Guang Ling hesitated for a moment before finally asking, "Xiao Che, what's going on...?" His voice held a trace of confusion and worry as he stared intently at Qian Lingche.
Qian Lingche didn't answer. He only lowered his head and gently stirred the white rice porridge in his bowl with a spoon, his expression indifferent, as though none of what had just happened had anything to do with him.
His movements were slow. The spoon traced faint ripples across the porridge, yet he showed no hint of emotion.
Guang Ling watched his profile, a faint unease stirring in his heart.
He had never seen Qian Lingche like this. Though they were close enough to touch, Qian Lingche seemed a world away.
Those eyes, lovely as the stars, were now frighteningly calm, as if he had lost interest in everything, without even the faintest ripple.
"Xiao Che..." Guang Ling's voice dropped. He seemed to want to say something, but didn't know where to begin.
He parted his lips, then fell silent, simply watching Qian Lingche and waiting for him to respond.
Qian Lingche still didn't look up. He merely gave a quiet "Mm," his tone so flat that it betrayed nothing. "Brother Ling, eat. The porridge will get cold."
At his words, Guang Ling's heart sank a little.
He looked down at the boiled egg in his bowl. The delicious breakfast had become tasteless to him.
He picked up his chopsticks but didn't move, his gaze still fixed on Qian Lingche's face.
But Qian Lingche never looked up. He simply drank his porridge in silence, as if nothing had anything to do with him.
The atmosphere in the hall grew heavier and heavier, until even the air seemed to have frozen.
At last, Guang Ling set down his chopsticks and sighed. "Xiao Che, is something bothering you? Tell me about it."
Qian Lingche paused for the slightest moment, then continued drinking his porridge, his tone still calm. "It's nothing. Don't worry."
He couldn't understand it. If she didn't love him, why had she sent people to look after him? Was it because of a sense of duty...?
Guang Ling watched his profile, a faint ache stirring in his heart.
Qian Lingche slowly turned his head. Through the window, he looked toward the towering Pope Palace in the distance.
"Mother... why could you be so cruel to your own child? I really... don't understand..."
Morning light spilled across the spire of the Pope Palace. Its golden glazed tiles gleamed brilliantly in the sun, yet they couldn't brighten his mood.