The Ugly Truth

In the blink of an eye, another day and more had passed.

Qian Qizhou looked at the spatial entrance below and flew straight inside.

Without a moment's hesitation, his figure flashed as he landed before the palace gates and hurried inside.

Inside the palace, Guang Ling sensed his return and emerged from the inner hall.

Seeing that Qian Qizhou had returned unscathed, he let out a sigh of relief, about to speak with a hint of concern.

The next second, his gaze was drawn to the woman behind Qian Qizhou.

The faint, pervasive pressure radiating from the Snow Empress caused Guang Ling's pupils to constrict sharply, and he grew vigilant.

Almost subconsciously, he stepped forward, shielding Qian Qizhou behind him.

He asked in a low voice, "Little Zhou, who is this that you've brought back?"

Although he felt no hostility from her, it was clear that even he had never seen her before, and it was even less likely that Little Zhou would have known her previously.

Her unfathomable strength and that elusive aura all signaled the power of the person before him.

Qian Qizhou, shielded behind him, hurriedly explained, "Ling, don't be nervous. This is the Snow Empress..."

He briefly introduced the Snow Empress's identity and clarified the relationship between them.

He might have kept things from others, but there was no need to hide this from Guang Ling; besides, no other excuse would suffice.

Upon hearing Qian Qizhou's words, Guang Ling's tense expression softened slightly, and his gaze toward the Snow Empress turned to one of disbelief.

A beast from the Far North? And one with nearly seven hundred thousand years of cultivation?

This level of strength could likely rival the Great Protector even without the use of divine power.

The Snow Empress showed no reaction to Guang Ling's wariness, merely casting a cold glance at him before losing interest.

Qian Qizhou soothed Guang Ling, then impatiently cut to the chase: "Ling, we can discuss that later. I received news outside—is it true that Fathe... that Qian Xunji has fallen?"

"Was he killed by Tang Hao? Is this really true? What happened?"

At these words, a complex expression flickered across Guang Ling's handsome face—solemnity, pity, and something indescribable.

He sighed softly and nodded: "It is true. The Pope has indeed fallen."

Feeling Qian Qizhou's gaze, Guang Ling lowered his eyes, avoiding direct contact.

He knew the inside story, of course; as soon as the incident occurred, he had gone to Spirit Hall.

But how could he say it? Tell Little Zhou that his mother killed his father because his father had wronged his mother?

Such a sordid affair was impossible to voice, no matter how he thought about it.

The Great Protector hadn't killed Bibi Dong, partly out of fear that Qian Renxue would be devastated upon learning the truth; it was better for her to direct her hatred toward Tang Hao than to despise her own mother.

However, Qian Qizhou stared intently at Guang Ling's eyes, not missing that momentary lapse or the subtle unnaturalness in his tone.

They lived together day and night, and he knew Guang Ling too well. Although he was much older and powerful, his mind was actually quite pure; he rarely hid his emotions and was not skilled at lying.

Qian Qizhou's heart sank slowly. Guang Ling's reaction confirmed his suspicions.

It seemed there was a hidden story behind Qian Xunji's death.

He sighed and spoke slowly: "Ling, you know you aren't good at lying. You're hiding something from me, aren't you?"

"What you know about Qian Xunji's death is likely not what you just told me."

Caught off guard by Qian Qizhou's bluntness, Guang Ling froze, a flash of panic crossing his face.

He opened his mouth as if to deny it, but under Qian Qizhou's gaze, all his defensive words dissolved into a silent sigh.

Indeed, he was not good at lying, especially not to this child he had watched grow up.

Though, given his own strength and status, there had never been a need to lie before; this was a first.

He rubbed his brow in defeat: "Little Zhou, it's not that I want to hide it from you, but knowing too much about some things will do you no good right now."

"Whether it does me good or not should be for me to decide." Qian Qizhou interrupted him: "What exactly happened? What is the mystery behind Qian Xunji's death?"

Under the pressure of Qian Qizhou's stubborn and sharp gaze, Guang Ling finally gave in.

He had no choice but to tell Qian Qizhou the cause of Qian Xunji's death and the full sequence of events that led to it.

When Guang Ling finally uttered the last word, the air seemed to go still.

He looked at Qian Qizhou nervously, fearing that this overly cruel truth would be too much for him to bear.

Qian Qizhou looked as if all the strength had been drained from his body; his once-straight spine slumped slightly.

He didn't shout or question; he simply sat on the cold floor, hugging his knees and burying his face deep into his arms.

His soul power fluctuated unconsciously, radiating an extremely low pressure mixed with disbelief, shock, disgust, and sorrow.

This truth far exceeded his wildest guesses.

Qian Xunji's end was so sordid, and he had brought it upon himself.

The Snow Empress stood to the side, her eyes shifting slightly as she looked at the curled-up Qian Qizhou, then glanced at the tense-looking Guang Ling.

Even she, having heard this tale of human... felt disgusted.

Qian Qizhou curled up on the ground, desperate to isolate himself from a world that had suddenly become utterly alien.

His mind was in complete chaos, Guang Ling's words hammering against his perception over and over again.

Bibi Dong... forced... humiliated...

These words swirled incessantly within his mind.

Spirit Hall had always worshipped the divine God of Angels, yet beneath that radiance, such filthy corruption had been concealed?

The things Qian Xunji had done were simply...

Sorrow, rage, disgust, bewilderment—a tangle of emotions washed over him, threatening to drown him entirely.

Watching Qian Qizhou's state, Guang Ling's heart tightened painfully.

He knew Qian Qizhou too well; though the boy appeared cold and resolute, he remained deeply attached in the depths of his heart.

Guang Ling still clearly remembered the harsh, final words Qian Qizhou had spoken when he left in a fit of anger all those years ago.

But he understood even better that it had merely been a child's impulsive reaction after being hurt; how could he truly sever all ties and not care at all?

He knelt halfway before Qian Qizhou, his voice laced with anxiety, "Xiao Zhou? Are you alright? Say something, please, don't scare me like this."

Guang Ling had never married nor had children of his own.

He had watched Qian Qizhou grow up since he was a mere child, pouring all his heart and care into him, treating him entirely as his own son.

At this moment, he would rather Qian Qizhou throw a tantrum, shout questions at him, or even start a fight, anything would be better than this—it was too terrifying.

Just as Guang Ling's worry reached its peak, the head Qian Qizhou had buried in his arms moved ever so slightly.