Douluo: When the piano sounds, the hidden weapon returns to the factory

Tang Yuehua's gaze shifted between the two young men. She knew better than anyone that although Tang San was exceptionally talented in every aspect, he could never match Feng Yao in musical skill. Rather than letting him be overshadowed in the final segment, it was better to seize the initiative from the start.

This arrangement not only preserved Tang San's dignity but also made the overall performance more layered.

Seated in the VIP section, Xue Qinghe appeared to be intently appreciating the performance on stage. However, when Feng Yao's gaze swept over him, the Crown Prince of Tiandou gave Feng Yao a meaningful look. The light flowing in his golden pupils was completely different from his usual gentle and refined image as the crown prince; only Feng Yao could understand the hidden intimacy within it.

"Xue Qinghe" then reverted to his gentle and refined demeanor as the crown prince, with only a fleeting smile at the corner of his lips revealing Qian Renxue's true feelings at that moment.

Then, the emcee announced loudly: "Next, please welcome our special guest—the honorary mentor of Yuexuan, mentor Fengyao, to bring us the grand finale performance of the evening!"

The lights dimmed, leaving only a beam of silver light shining on the central zither platform. Feng Yao slowly ascended the platform, dressed in snow-white robes. In stark contrast to Tang San's cold demeanor just moments before, his temperament was gentle and refined, yet imbued with unfathomable composure.

His fingertips lightly touched the strings, and the moment the first note rang out, the entire Moon Pavilion seemed to be transported into a vast galaxy. The music was ethereal and melodious, sometimes like a gentle breeze, sometimes like a flowing river of stars, each note striking precisely the heartstrings of the listeners.

Even more breathtaking was the fact that, as the music progressed, an invisible wave spread throughout the entire venue, and a faint golden halo gradually appeared around Feng Yao, as if resonating with the heavens and earth. The audience unconsciously held their breath, and even Tang San's pupils contracted slightly—he had never seen such a performance before.

Just as a strange fluctuation emanated from Feng Yao's body, Chen Xin's half-closed eyes suddenly snapped open, a sharp sword intent emanating from them as if it were tangible. He slowly uttered two words as heavy as a thousand pounds: "Domain."

Upon hearing this, Ning Fengzhi abruptly stopped playing with the scepter in his hand. For the first time, an undisguised shock appeared on his gentle and refined face as he stared intently at Feng Yao on the platform. His usually calm and composed eyes now shone with an almost fervent light—as the leader of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, he knew better than anyone what it meant for a genius to awaken a domain at the Soul Saint stage.

Tang Yuehua's pupils contracted slightly. Tang San beside her tensed up, his expression instantly becoming extremely solemn. The air in the entire banquet hall seemed to freeze at that moment, with only Feng Yao's zither music continuing to flow smoothly, seemingly oblivious to the sudden change in the atmosphere below the stage.

As the music flowed, Tang San's thoughts suddenly drifted away. His fingertips seemed to be plucking not the strings, but the exquisitely crafted mechanisms deep within his memories. The blood-red mist of the Killing City vanished in that instant, revealing before him the familiar workshop of the Tang Clan from his past life—sunlight streamed through the windows, casting dappled shadows on the bluestone floor, and the air was filled with the delicate scent of sandalwood and metal.

His fingers unconsciously increased their pressure, and the sound of the zither suddenly changed. In a daze, Tang San seemed to return to that afternoon when he was focused on forging, watching the Buddha's Wrath Lotus he had designed bloom into a perfect arc in his palm. That was the purest joy in his life—no hatred, no scheming, only the most genuine love for mechanical arts.

Tang Yuehua's fingertips trembled slightly. In a daze, she seemed to see the training ground behind the Haotian Sect many years ago—sunlight filtered through the branches of the ancient locust tree, casting dappled patterns on the ground. The young Tang Hao was wielding the Haotian Hammer, the hammer's wind stirring up fallen petals; Tang Xiao stood by, smiling and pointing, his brows full of the gentle warmth unique to an elder brother; and she herself sat on a stone bench, a newly tuned harp resting on her lap.

Those crisp laughs still seem to echo in my ears, carrying the carefree joy unique to youth.

"Lady Yuehua?" The maid's soft call brought her back to reality. Tang Yuehua then realized that her eyes had become slightly moist. She quickly concealed her embarrassment with a smile.

As the last note faded, a brief silence fell over the hall, followed by a thunderous applause. Feng Yao rose gracefully and bowed to the crowd, saying, "Thank you all."

Tang Yuehua gracefully lifted her skirt and slowly walked onto the center stage. Her violet gown shimmered softly under the lights, like a rising moon. As she stood there, the entire hall fell silent.

"Thank you all for gracing us with your presence and witnessing the growth of another graduating class of Yuexuan students." Her voice flowed like a clear spring, her gaze gently sweeping over each guest below the stage. She paused almost imperceptibly when her gaze fell upon Tang San, then continued casually, "The moonlight is perfect tonight. Yuexuan has prepared some light wine and snacks; we hope you all enjoy yourselves."

She gestured, and the waiters who had been waiting on either side immediately opened the carved doors on either side of the hall. Behind the doors, on a long dining table covered with a silver tablecloth, crystal tableware shimmered in the candlelight. As Tang Yuehua turned around, the crescent-shaped jade hairpin in her hair drew a gentle arc, just like the perfectly timed smile on her lips—maintaining the poise of the mistress of Yuexuan while not losing her sincerity in welcoming guests.

Feng Yao slowly returned to the table and gracefully sat down beside Ye Lingling and Dugu Yan. While pouring wine for the two women, he subtly cast an apologetic glance in the direction of Qian Renxue. His fingertips lightly tapped the handle of the wine pot, conveying a hint of reassurance.

Qian Renxue—still resembling Xue Qinghe at this moment—sat upright in the main seat. Upon seeing Feng Yao's gaze, the corners of her lips slightly turned up, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. A hint of understanding flashed in her eyes, which were disguised as black, before she returned to the gentle and refined demeanor befitting a Crown Prince.

This brief exchange of glances was perfectly concealed amidst the clinking of glasses at the banquet.

Feng Yao subtly surveyed the entire room. Just as he expected, there wasn't a single person from the Spirit Hall in the entire banquet hall—it seemed Tang Yuehua clearly had other purposes this time.

Suddenly, Feng Yao noticed a meaningful gaze. Looking up, he saw Ning Fengzhi smiling at him from not far away, the glass cup in his hand reflecting a seven-colored halo under the lamplight. The moment their eyes met, the sect leader of the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile School raised the corners of his lips and nodded slightly to him.

"Heh, old fox." Feng Yao chuckled inwardly, but showed no sign of it on his face. Before he could respond, Ning Fengzhi had already arrived slowly with Ning Rongrong and Qian Renxue, with Sword Douluo Chen Xin following closely behind. Ning Rongrong looked at the two beauties beside Feng Yao and couldn't help but let out a soft snort, while Chen Xin's gaze remained warily fixed on Feng Yao, who had left a deep impression on him with his musical skills just now.

Feng Yao bowed slightly, performing a standard noble greeting: "Sect Leader Ning, how have you been, Your Highness the Crown Prince?" His voice was gentle and refined, and his every gesture exuded elegance.

A hint of admiration flashed in Ning Fengzhi's eyes as he gently swirled the glass cup in his hand. "Rongrong often says that Xiaofeng has changed a lot in the past two years, and seeing him today, he is indeed even better than before." He looked lovingly at his daughter beside him. "This girl's progress in controlling her distractions is largely thanks to Xiaofeng's guidance."

Ning Rongrong didn't say anything, but her gaze kept shifting between Ye Lingling and Dugu Yan.

Qian Renxue glanced at Feng Yao with amusement, her eyes constantly observing the tense atmosphere of the scene.

Just as Feng Yao was about to reply, he suddenly sensed another presence approaching. Turning his head, he saw Tang Yuehua gracefully approaching with Tang San. Her violet skirt swayed gently with her steps, and a polite smile graced her face: "Sect Leader Ning and His Highness the Crown Prince's presence truly honors Yuexuan."

Tang San stood beside Tang Yuehua, his gaze shifting back and forth between Feng Yao and Ning Fengzhi. Feng Yao keenly noticed that when Tang San looked at Chen Xin, his fingertips trembled involuntarily.

Ning Fengzhi's gentle gaze lingered on Tang San for a moment, a discerning glint in his eyes. With the insight and knowledge of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School Master, how could he not see through Tang Yin's true identity? Who else but Tang San could be so close and devoted to Tang Yuehua? "Little San, how have you been?" Ning Fengzhi smiled, his voice gentle yet firm, the glazed cup in his hand reflecting Tang San's slightly stiff figure.

"Dad, you said he's Third Brother?" Ning Rongrong's eyes widened, her pink lips slightly parted, as she looked incredulously at the young man in front of her with a completely different temperament.

Qian Renxue feigned surprise and said, "You are Tang San."

Seeing this, Tang San knew that further concealment was futile, so he could only shake his head and chuckle helplessly, "As expected, I couldn't hide it from Uncle Ning. It's been a long time, Rongrong, Brother Xue." In an instant, Tang San revealed that familiar yet more mature face. But at this moment, his gaze unconsciously drifted to Feng Yao, who stood calmly to the side, as if observing his reaction.

Tang San's gaze sharpened slightly as he observed Feng Yao's composed expression: "It seems Brother Feng already knew my identity, yet you show no surprise whatsoever."

Feng Yao lightly traced the rim of the teacup with his fingertips, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I can discern the fluctuations in the music, and naturally, I can discern your habits as well." He elegantly sipped his tea. "This familiar feeling is as if I've returned to Nottingham City of yesteryear."

Upon hearing this, Tang San's pupils suddenly contracted. He was secretly alarmed.

Tang Yuehua stepped forward at the opportune moment, her violet sleeves shimmering softly in the candlelight. "Distinguished guests, please take your seats," she said, gracefully gesturing. "With fine wine and delicious food before us, let's sit down and discuss our matters at length."

Ning Fengzhi nodded knowingly and led Ning Rongrong to sit down first. Chen Xin gave Tang San a meaningful look and stood behind Ning Fengzhi.

Feng Yao ignored the gazes of everyone at the table, focusing solely on attending to the two beauties beside him. His slender fingers picked up the jade chopsticks, carefully avoiding spicy dishes when serving Ye Lingling, and adding a spoonful of her favorite jade shrimp to Dugu Yan's plate. His movements were fluid and graceful, neither overly intimate nor lacking in tenderness.

"I can do it myself," Ye Lingling said softly, her ears slightly red. She could clearly feel Ning Rongrong's gaze across from her, as well as Tang San's thoughtful scrutiny. Dugu Yan accepted it calmly, but the tightness of her dress still made her feel a little uncomfortable.

Ning Rongrong rested her chin on her hand, her eyes darting back and forth between the three of them. Tang San, meanwhile, thoughtfully stroked his wine cup, his gaze lingering on Feng Yao's fingers as he served food to the two women—those hands, seemingly casual, were actually terrifyingly precise in every movement.

Ning Fengzhi elegantly picked up the glass cup, his eyes filled with admiration: "Little Feng, it's been two years, and your musical skills have improved considerably. Today's performance has given me a new understanding of musical martial souls."

Feng Yao humbly shook his head, his fingertips lightly tracing the rim of his cup: "Sect Leader Ning, you flatter me. It's merely a matter of practice makes perfect." He turned his gaze to the silent Chen Xin beside him, his tone sincere: "As for skill and attainment, how dare I, a junior, embarrass myself before Senior Sword Douluo with my meager abilities?"

Chen Xin, who had been resting with his eyes closed, slowly opened them upon hearing this, a sharp sword intent flashing in his eyes. He put down his wine cup, his voice low yet penetrating: "Whether it's music or swordsmanship, both require the Soul Master's understanding of their Martial Soul. To cultivate such a Martial Soul to this level—" He paused, a rare hint of admiration appearing on his face, "you are the first."

These comments drew attention from everyone present. It's worth noting that young people who receive such praise from Sword Douluo Chen Xin are extremely rare in the entire Soul Master world.

Tang Yuehua's eyes flickered slightly, giving Tang San a meaningful look. Tang San understood, and with his slender fingers picked up the glass cup in front of him, the amber liquid inside shimmering under the lamplight.

“Uncle Ning,” Tang San rose, his posture respectful yet dignified, “this junior offers you a toast. I have always remembered the kindness and care you received at the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School.”

His gesture of raising the glass was elegant and proper, but Feng Yao keenly noticed that his posture still carried the restraint unique to a master of concealed weapons—his thumb and forefinger were precisely gripping a specific position on the rim of the glass, as if he could turn the glass into a deadly weapon at any moment.

Ning Fengzhi gladly raised his glass in response, and the glass cup gently clinked against Tang San's wine cup in the air, producing a crisp sound.

Ning Fengzhi gracefully raised his glass in return, the glass reflecting a rainbow of colors in the candlelight. His gentle voice carried the kindness of an elder: "Third brother, there's no need for such formality." After taking a sip of wine, he continued, "The three upper sects are of one family; helping and supporting each other is our duty."

He lightly traced the rim of his cup with his fingertips, his gaze shifting between Tang San and Tang Yuehua: "Besides, what happened back then was nothing more than a simple favor."

Qian Renxue sat upright beside Ning Fengzhi, her thoughtful expression reflected in the white jade wine cup in her hand. She subtly observed her "cheap master" as she raised her cup. In the candlelight, Ning Fengzhi's gentle profile appeared exceptionally profound, his slender fingers lightly tapping the table, as if he were considering something.

"I wonder what choice this old fox will make," Qian Renxue thought to herself, a hint of anticipation flashing in her disguised black eyes.

Tang Yuehua's long eyelashes drooped slightly, concealing the fleeting disappointment in her eyes. She noticed that Ning Fengzhi's attitude towards Tang San was rather indifferent, even somewhat distant; his worldly-wise eyes did not reveal the fervor one should have for a genius with twin martial souls. She subtly shifted her gaze to Xue Qinghe, who sat regally in the main seat.

Qian Renxue, playing the Crown Prince, was elegantly sipping tea, her every gesture exuding imperial grace. Tang Yuehua gazed at his gentle, jade-like face, a complex emotion welling up in her beautiful eyes. Her slender fingertips unconsciously caressed her skin—this should have been Tang San's stage to shine, but it was overshadowed by Feng Yao's presence.

"In the end, it was a miscalculation." She sighed softly to herself, a bitter smile playing on her lips. Yuexuan had established herself in Tiandou City for many years precisely because of her intricate connections with the royal family and nobility. How could the highly regarded Feng Yao be absent from an occasion attended by His Highness the Crown Prince? Even with her meticulous arrangements, Tang San was still influenced by Feng Yao.

Tang Yuehua's gaze swept subtly among the guests. She keenly noticed that Ning Fengzhi's gentle gaze seemed to be pondering something, but it was always slightly tilted towards Feng Yao, his eyes gleaming with the familiar fervor only found in a peerless genius; even the little girl Ning Rongrong would always sneak glances in Feng Yao's direction when no one was looking.

As the mistress of Yuexuan, she was all too familiar with such scenes of being the center of attention—only this time, the one standing at the center of the spotlight was not Tang San, whom she had carefully nurtured, but that mysterious young man whose every move exuded an air of mystery. Her years of experience in judging people told her that in this invisible contest, Tang San had already fallen behind.

(End of this chapter)