Qian Daoliu, my dear boy!

Late at night, in the Worship Hall.

Qian Daoliu sat cross-legged in the center of the hall, pale golden fluctuations of soul power swirling around him as he cultivated as usual.

But unexpectedly-

He simply could not calm his mind tonight.

His eyelid twitched fiercely, and his chest felt inexplicably tight, as though something were churning inside him.

"Strange..."

Qian Daoliu opened his eyes. A flicker of worry passed through his golden eyes before his brows knitted tightly.

As a level ninety-nine Peerless Douluo, he had not experienced this kind of unease in decades.

The last time had been the night something happened to Qian Xunji.

Taking a deep breath, Qian Daoliu tried to enter meditation again.

Yet that unease did not fade. Instead, it grew stronger and stronger, as though something momentous were happening.

Just then.

Hurried footsteps came from outside the hall.

"Big brother! Big brother!"

Golden Crocodile Douluo's voice carried unmistakable panic.

Qian Daoliu frowned, rose, and walked toward the doors.

Golden Crocodile Douluo practically crashed inside, his face deathly pale and his forehead covered in cold sweat.

"What happened? Why all the panic?" Qian Daoliu asked gravely, the unease in his heart instantly reaching its peak.

Golden Crocodile had always been steady in his actions. For him to be this panicked, something terrible must have happened.

At that moment.

Golden Crocodile Douluo opened his mouth, his voice already beginning to tremble.

He knew.

Once he said this, his big brother would probably bristle with fury.

"Big brother... your ancestral grave... someone's dug up your ancestral grave!"

"What?!"

Qian Daoliu's pupils contracted sharply. Soul power erupted around him with a thunderous roar, shaking the entire Worship Hall.

So this was the terrible thing!

"Who did it?! Who swallowed a lion's heart and a leopard's gall, daring to dig up my Qian Family's ancestral grave!"

"I don't know."

Golden Crocodile Douluo swallowed and continued, "The burial chamber was opened, and the former Supreme Pontiff Qian Chenming's remains are completely gone."

Boom!

The ground beneath Qian Daoliu's feet exploded, countless cracks spreading in every direction.

His face was livid, and his eyes all but spat fire.

Digging up his ancestral grave was one thing.

But they had actually dug up his father's grave. Even digging up his son's would have been easier to stomach!

"Lead the way!"

Two streaks of golden light tore through the night sky, heading straight for the cemetery on the mountain behind Spirit Hall.

Inside Douluo Hall.

Demon Subduing Douluo, Qian Jun Douluo, and the others were already standing at the tomb entrance, their expressions equally grim.

Seeing Qian Daoliu land, the five enshrined immediately dropped to one knee:

"Big brother, we arrived too late."

Qian Daoliu ignored them and strode straight toward the burial chamber.

The tomb doors stood wide open, and the chamber was utterly empty.

Where the stone coffin had once rested, only a massive pit remained.

His father, Qian Chenming, the thirteenth Supreme Pontiff of Spirit Hall, had simply vanished into thin air.

"Investigate!"

Qian Daoliu's voice was as cold as shards of ice:

"Even if you have to turn the entire continent upside down, find whoever did this!"

Demon Subduing Douluo and Qian Jun Douluo exchanged a glance.

"Big brother..."

Qian Jun Douluo said, "When we searched around the cemetery just now, we uncovered some information."

"Speak."

"A disciple said he saw a figure in golden robes fly out of the cemetery, heading... toward the Worship Hall."

Qian Daoliu whipped his head around, killing intent flashing in his eyes:

"What did that person look like?"

"It was too far away to see clearly," Demon Subduing Douluo took over. "But that disciple said he felt that person was very powerful."

The air instantly froze.

Would someone weak dare dig up his ancestral grave? Wasn't that just stating the obvious?

"No, we may have fallen into a trap!"

Qian Daoliu calmed himself to think, and a terrifying thought flashed through his mind.

His opponent had deliberately dug up his ancestral grave.

Perhaps this was the only way to force him, the Great Enshrined, to leave the hall personally.

As for the purpose behind luring the tiger away from its mountain, it surely harbored ill intent.

With that thought, Qian Daoliu immediately turned back, his figure streaking like lightning as he raced toward the Worship Hall.

Before long, when he arrived outside the Worship Hall, its doors stood wide open, and the interior was already brightly lit.

Qian Daoliu stopped abruptly.

Something was wrong.

The lights in the hall had clearly been extinguished when he left.

Soul power gathered in his palm as Qian Daoliu stepped into the hall, one pace at a time.

At that moment, someone was sitting in the chair at the center of the hall-the chair that symbolized supreme authority.

Golden robes.

A face he could not make out.

The man sat in the shadows without the slightest fluctuation of soul power around him, yet the air throughout the hall seemed to have frozen.

Qian Daoliu's pupils narrowed slightly.

"Who are you?"

The man said nothing, merely raising his head slowly.

In the shadows, a pair of eyes lit up.

Qian Daoliu's heart gave a violent jolt.

Those eyes...

They were far too familiar.

So familiar that a chill ran down his spine.

"Enough of these ghostly tricks!"

Qian Daoliu barked coldly. Golden light blazed in his palm as he prepared to strike.

Just then.

A gust blew in from outside the hall. The candle flames swayed, and light swept across the man's face.

Qian Daoliu saw him clearly.

In an instant.

His pupils shrank to pinpoints, and his face turned white:

"Dad, you didn't die? You're still alive?"

Qian Daoliu's body went rigid, his head buzzing.

Impossible.

His father should have turned to ashes long ago by now.

How could he have come back from the dead, and even look younger than his own son?

What was this?

Had he lived himself into being the grandson?

Even as a Peerless Douluo, Qian Daoliu had never heard of a secret art that could bring the dead back to life.

Then the one sitting before him now...

Was he a man or a ghost?

Qian Daoliu instinctively took a step back.

"What's wrong?"

Qian Chenming spoke from the chair, his voice deep and hoarse. "My dear boy, don't you recognize your old man?"

That voice, that tone, were exactly as they had been when he was alive.

Cold sweat poured from Qian Daoliu's forehead.

He had lived for over a hundred years. What great winds and waves had he not weathered?

But at this moment, he was afraid.

"You're not my father!"

Qian Daoliu suddenly roared, shooting backward out of the hall.

"There's a demon!"

"Golden Crocodile! Jiang Mo! Qian Jun! Everyone, face the enemy with me!"

His voice resounded throughout the Worship Hall.

Golden Crocodile Douluo and the others had only just arrived. Hearing this, they released their martial souls without another word.

Seven terrifying auras instantly enveloped the hall.

At that moment, all seven Titled Douluo had turned their attention toward the hall's interior.

They could not help becoming wary, fully armed as they faced the man inside.

Because their Great Enshrined, Qian Daoliu, looked as though he was about to wet himself in fright.

Just who was this person?

Who could make the Great Enshrined, a Peerless Douluo, look so utterly discomposed?

Wasn't this oppressive presence far too powerful?

The man inside.

His strength was probably at least that of a Peerless Douluo.

Against someone like that.

How could they not follow suit and focus entirely on facing the enemy?