Her Xiaogang

In Bibi Dong's eyes, her Xiaogang was a man of immense learning. He studied Martial Soul Theory with near obsession and had insights all his own, often saying things that astonished and impressed even her, a prodigy among prodigies.

And unlike everyone else, Xiaogang neither revered her for her status nor adored her for her beauty.

He looked at her as an equal, someone with whom he could share his thoughts.

He patiently explained dry, difficult theories to her. When she struggled with her cultivation, his seemingly unorthodox ideas often struck at the heart of the problem and showed her a way forward.

They spent countless afternoons together in the Library Pavilion, sunlight filtering through stained-glass windows and casting shifting patterns across his intent profile.

The air carried the distinctive scents of old books and inksticks, along with the sound of his gentle, low voice.

Her Xiaogang would tug at his hair in frustration over a difficult point of theory. Then his eyes would light up the moment he thought of a possible answer, like a child who had found a beloved toy.

He had even blushed as he awkwardly invited her to sneak out with him the next time Heaven Dou City held a lantern festival. The lanterns were beautiful, he told her, and the street food stalls were lively—nothing like what she usually experienced.

Back then, Bibi Dong's heart had been full of joy, along with a young girl's shyness and anticipation.

Beyond the cold mantle of Saintess, she had finally touched a little ordinary warmth, full of the life she saw beyond those walls.

Her Xiaogang was so talented. Bibi Dong had always believed that.

If his theories could be proven, they could change the entire Soul Master World. If not for that damned limitation of his