Bibi Dong's Papal Throne

"'Propagation' 'Elation' alternate timeline plot. Bibi Dong lovers—proceed with caution!!"

"The main timeline focuses more on 'Erudition' and 'Elation,' while the alternate timeline focuses on 'Propagation' and 'Elation.'"

"Simply put, the alternate timeline must not only 'propagate,' but also play wild."

Outside the Papal Palace, the two Spirit Hall elders, Chrysanthemum Pass and Gui Mei, had straightened their attire and washed the bloodstains from their foreheads. They now stood guard outside with utmost diligence.

Within the solemn Papal Hall, the cold, murderous hostility from before had already dissipated, leaving behind traces of ambiguous atmosphere that diluted the Papal Palace's majesty and sanctity.

The moment the conviction of the Thought Imprint had been instilled into her mind, Bibi Dong's state of mind was completely divided, reshaped, and fused...

At that moment, Bibi Dong was undergoing an unprecedented transformation.

"Where is this? What is happening?"

Deep within the dim sea of consciousness, Bibi Dong's frail awareness took the form of a tiny transparent figure. Around her stretched a pitch-black painting filled with brilliant colors. She seemed to have seen this scene somewhere before...

This is... the four-dimensional universe, the Dark Plane Dimension?

A beautiful woman's murmuring voice echoed faintly through this place.

Yet this fragment of consciousness was far too weak. Like a caged bird trapped within an invisible prison, Bibi Dong could not control her body or thoughts and could only passively endure the sensations transmitted from her physical body...

In the outside world, within the Papal Hall, before the sacred and magnificent papal throne, a graceful purple figure was prostrated—a figure who made the entire continent stand in awe and countless people bow their heads.

The beautiful woman clad in purple-gold papal robes had a faint blush covering her stunning face. All strength had left her body, and she lay limply upon the ground, weak yet gentle.

The humble fantasies of love that had entangled her for half her life, her favoritism toward her first love Yu Xiaogang, and her towering hatred for Qian Xunji all scattered away like windblown sand...

From this moment onward, her sole remaining conviction was absolute loyalty and lifelong devotion to her master, Qin Moyu.

Before the papal throne, Bibi Dong had shed the aloof pride of a pope looking down upon all living beings. Instead, the gloom and madness innate to the Rakshasa God's inheritor lent her the allure of a beautiful madwoman.

Beneath that cold, noble, peerlessly beautiful exterior lay docility and piety in submission.

Bibi Dong's delicate body lay weakly prostrate on the ground. Mist clouded her violet eyes, which held scattered tears. Her every feminine gesture brimmed with docility, humility, and devotion.

Her body trembled faintly as her taut frame finally relaxed completely. The emptiness and regret in her heart were filled, and a sense of peace and belonging unlike anything she had ever known surged within her.

This was a security she had never experienced in her life, surpassing the false love of her youth and even the honor of wielding power over the world...

Not bad. A nearly perfect experimental record.

Qin Moyu lowered his gaze to look down at the peerlessly beautiful woman submitting at his feet, satisfaction flashing through his eyes.

The Thought Imprint's transformation had been flawless, perfectly meeting his expectations. It had not only thoroughly remolded Bibi Dong's convictions, but also completely preserved a portion of her original consciousness...

It was precisely because Qin Moyu had chosen to retain this portion of her original consciousness that he could clearly know that the beautiful woman obediently submitting beneath him was not an empty puppet, but Pope Bibi Dong herself...

"So this is what you call 'absolute loyalty'? How interesting~" Qin Moyu slowly bent down and chuckled.

His fingertips were warm as they gently brushed through the soft purple hair at Bibi Dong's temples. The gesture was tender and doting, yet carried an irresistible possessiveness.

Once upon a time, Bibi Dong had been the Spirit Hall pope who stood above all others, one whom no one dared meet directly in the eye. Yet now, she obediently lifted her neck like a kitten awaiting its meal...

Bibi Dong was breathtakingly beautiful. Crimson spread across her delicate, fair cheeks as she allowed Qin Moyu to touch her dewy face. Her long eyelashes quivered like fluttering butterfly wings...

"Get up."

Qin Moyu's voice was calm, yet it was her only decree of fate at that moment.

Bibi Dong let out a soft, coquettish sound and obediently rose. Her luxurious purple-gold papal robe draped close to her body, outlining her slender, graceful figure and full curves.

The beautiful woman lowered her eyes slightly. Her cool, exquisite features were touched with moving gentleness, and her voice was soft and sweet, devoid of her former arrogance. "This subordinate... awaits my master's orders."

Qin Moyu silently watched her utterly transformed appearance, a faint smile passing through his eyes.

The Thought Imprint altered only one's convictions, not one's true nature. The Bibi Dong before him had not changed in personality—she was still purely love-obsessed; only the object of her affection had been transferred...

He raised a hand and gently lifted her chin, making her look directly into his eyes.

The two stood inches apart, their breaths tangling together.

Within those dazzling, amber-like violet eyes, her entire pupils reflected Qin Moyu's figure alone. It seemed as though pink, bubbling hearts were gradually surfacing in their depths...

The vast, empty Papal Hall had become a private world belonging only to the two of them. The sealed space was clearly about to become another secret chamber...

The papal throne symbolized Spirit Hall's absolute imperial authority. It was the most sacred and inviolable forbidden ground on the entire Douluo Continent!

Yet at that moment, the forbidden ground had lost its majesty, and divinity had fallen into the mortal realm.

The two figures slowly drew closer, until only the thickness of a sheet of paper remained between them. The atmosphere became ambiguous...

In a place no one knew of, deep within the dark and sealed sea of consciousness...

"No... don't! Please, Qin Moyu, don't do this!"

Bibi Dong's weak original consciousness let out a mournful cry, the woman's call incomparably shrill.

Yet none of it could be conveyed outside. Her consciousness was tightly imprisoned within its cage, unable even to resist.

Bibi Dong's fragile awareness drifted helplessly. She could only watch this scene with her own eyes, watch her body being comforted by another pair of hands, their movements incomparably gentle...

"Don't... I know I was wrong, please... sob, sob, sob~"

The weak consciousness trembled, watching helplessly, yet unable to do anything at all...

Only at that moment did Bibi Dong suddenly realize that perhaps, from the very beginning, she should never have provoked him...

Yet her admission of fault was not because she understood what she had done wrong, but because she knew she was about to be tainted again...

"Xiao Gang... I'm sorry... huff huff~~"

Her weak consciousness passively endured the sensations transmitted by her body...

Upon the papal dais, within the confines of the throne.

Bibi Dong's heartbeat quietly fell out of rhythm. Her violet eyes were filled with Qin Moyu's figure, unable to hold even the slightest trace of anyone else.

The more crazed her former obsessive love had been, the more intense her exclusive loyalty and attachment were now.

She unconsciously leaned forward slightly, greedily yearning for this closeness within arm's reach.

Rather than making her seem unapproachable, those dignified and luxurious purple-gold papal robes instead stirred the deepest desire for conquest in one's heart.

The most ingenious thing about the papal robes was their looseness. They could not only uphold the pope's majesty, but also quietly conceal those unbecoming lapses in composure.

Qin Moyu took hold of her soft hand, bracing both hands against the armrests on either side of the papal throne and trapping Bibi Dong—the pope who had once looked down upon all living beings—within this narrow space.

He pressed forward step by step...