Inside the Papal Palace, Qian Daoliu sat in the seat of honor, clad in a majestic, solemn golden papal robe. He had long since broken through Rank 98 and stood only one step away from becoming a Rank 99 Limit Douluo.
With the empire's destiny bolstering him, the aura around him had grown ever more vast and imposing. Every gesture carried the imperial bearing of one who looked down upon all living beings.
After governing the nation for years, he had shed his former free-spirited nature and gained the steadiness of an emperor. Yet when facing his two sons, he still retained the tenderest warmth in his heart.
When Qian Xunzong pushed open the door and entered, Qian Daoliu raised his eyes, his expression softening slightly. "Zong'er, what brings you to the Papal Palace today? Have you run into some trouble?"
Qian Xunzong walked straight into the hall without beating around the bush. He looked directly at Qian Daoliu, his tone serious and resolute.
"Dad, I came to ask you something. Who exactly is my mother?"
The moment those words fell, the grand and solemn Papal Palace fell abruptly silent.
Qian Daoliu's previously gentle gaze froze. The immense imperial aura around him vanished in an instant, replaced by a loneliness, melancholy, and bitterness that had been sealed away for decades.
Decades had passed.
This name, this person, this past—he had buried them for decades and never mentioned them to anyone. Even Qian Xichen and Qian Xunji, those closest to him, knew little of it.
He remained silent for a long while, immensely complicated emotions churning in his eyes: longing, guilt, regret, and a faint helplessness deeply buried within his heart.
At last, he let out a soft sigh, his voice carrying rare exhaustion and hoarseness. "You finally asked."
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