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

After She Long's figure disappeared outside the door, Feng Yao turned around and gently lifted Qian Renxue's chin with her fingertips: "Don't be upset, it's just going to see my mother-in-law."

Qian Renxue slapped Feng Yao's hand away. Although her golden eyes still held a hint of coldness, her tone had softened considerably: "You know perfectly well that she definitely has other motives."

Feng Yao chuckled softly, leaning down to place a kiss on Qian Renxue's smooth forehead: "You're too nervous, Xue'er." His slender fingers gently smoothed her slightly furrowed brow. "I don't believe His Holiness the Pope has any ill intentions towards me."

Seeing Qian Renxue still pursing her lips, Feng Yao gently pulled her into his arms: "I believe in you, and naturally I must also believe in His Holiness the Pope." His voice was deep and firm, "After all, she is your mother."

Qian Renxue's body stiffened slightly, then relaxed. She buried her face in Feng Yao's shoulder and mumbled, "I'm just worried."

Feng Yao gently stroked her soft golden hair, a deep glint in his eyes: "Don't worry, I'll come back safely." He gazed at the moonlight outside the window, a meaningful smile curving his lips. "This meeting might even yield some unexpected gains, like marrying you to me?"

Upon hearing this, Qian Renxue's fair cheeks flushed crimson, her golden eyes flashing with embarrassment and annoyance: "Go away, who cares about you!" She turned her face away, but couldn't hide the slight upturn of her lips, "You little ingrate!"

A sly glint flashed in Feng Yao's eyes as he suddenly leaned close to her ear: "Could it be..." His warm breath brushed against her sensitive earlobe, "Xue'er doesn't want to marry me anymore?"

"You!" Qian Renxue turned her head sharply, only to be met with Feng Yao's handsome face, which was inches away from hers. Their noses almost touched, and she could even see her own reflection in his eyes.

The candlelight in the hall flickered suddenly, casting their intertwined shadows on the wall. Qian Renxue's red lips parted slightly, as if she was about to say something, but Feng Yao sealed her words with a kiss. The kiss was gentle and lingering, causing her to unconsciously close her eyes.

After a long while, Feng Yao reluctantly released her, chuckling softly, "Once I return from the Star Dou Great Forest and the Heavenly Dou matter is resolved," he traced circles in her palm with his fingertips, "I will propose marriage to His Holiness the Pope, is that alright?"

"what ever."

As dawn broke, the gilded gauze curtains were gently stirred by the breeze, casting dappled light and shadow on the exquisite breakfast.

Feng Yao and Qian Renxue sat facing each other, silently eating their breakfast. Several delicate snacks were laid out on the white jade porcelain plates: crystal shrimp dumplings with paper-thin wrappers, rose pastries with distinct layers, and two cups of steaming ginseng tea.

Qian Renxue paused slightly in her chopsticks and looked up at the person opposite her. Feng Yao was intently peeling a hard-boiled egg, his slender fingers moving with elegance, even peeling the shell was like creating a work of art.

Feng Yao sipped his tea, his eyes darting about. He had a vague idea of ​​Bibi Dong's purpose in suddenly summoning him to the Star Dou Great Forest—it was probably related to Qian Renxue, but the specific purpose remained a mystery.

Thinking of this, a slight smile appeared on his lips. This trip might allow him to witness important plot points from the original story firsthand, which would be an unexpected bonus. However, a sharp glint flashed in Feng Yao's eyes; he would never allow Tang San to have a chance to touch that 100,000-year soul ring.

A glint of light flashed in Feng Yao's eyes as he thought to himself, "I must find a way to delay Tang San's entry into the Star Dou Great Forest. I absolutely cannot let that 100,000-year spirit ring fall into his hands."

Qian Renxue keenly noticed his distraction, her golden eyes narrowing slightly. "If you don't want to go, I'll refuse for you." She lightly tapped the table with her fingertips. "I have my own way of dealing with her."

Feng Yao snapped out of his reverie, a gentle smile curving his lips. "How could that be?" He took Qian Renxue's slender hand in his. "I'm actually quite looking forward to this trip to the Starry Sky."

"What were you thinking about just now?" Qian Renxue rolled her eyes at him, but let him hold her hand.

Feng Yao chuckled and set down his teacup, his fingertips lightly tapping on the table. "His Holiness the Pope specifically chose the Star Dou Great Forest as the meeting place, clearly indicating he has designs on that 100,000-year-old soul beast that has taken human form." A sly glint flashed in his eyes. "We should also make some preparations on our side in Tian Dou, lest someone foolishly interfere."

Upon hearing this, Qian Renxue glanced at him sideways with her golden eyes: "You do know how to consider her feelings." Her red lips pursed slightly, her tone carrying a hint of reproach.

Feng Yao suddenly leaned closer, a fawning smile plastered on his face: "Isn't this to leave a good impression on my mother-in-law?" He deliberately dragged out the words and made a comical cupped-hands gesture.

"Pfft—" Qian Renxue couldn't help but laugh out loud, then she straightened her face and said, "You're so unserious!" But she couldn't hide the smile in her eyes.

"Alright, Uncle She already took action last night, and we don't know how things are going now. Once the results spread, they won't have the mind to pay attention to her movements in the Star Dou Great Forest anymore," Qian Renxue said, smiling and waving her hand at Feng Yao.

Feng Yao looked at Qian Renxue, a deep meaning flashing in his eyes: "Not necessarily. There is one person who will definitely be watching closely."

Qian Renxue's eyes flickered slightly, and a familiar figure flashed into her mind: "You mean Tang San?"

A mocking smile played on her lips: "Even if he went, so what? With her abilities, she wouldn't need to care about a mere brat."

Feng Yao's gaze shifted slightly, lingering briefly on Qian Renxue's cool profile, a faint smile playing on his lips. He didn't refute her, but his fingertips gently traced the subtle patterns on his cuff, his tone leisurely yet profound: "Man proposes, God disposes. If you're going to do it, you should strive for absolute certainty."

He leaned forward slightly, lowered his voice, and said with a hint of a smile, "Xue'er, the time has come. It's time to begin 'supporting' Tang San."

Qian Renxue's eyes flickered slightly as she nodded gently, her slender fingers unconsciously tracing the jade pendant at her waist. She always strived for perfection, and since Feng Yao had made this suggestion, there must be a deeper meaning behind it. Moreover—if Tang San were to do something that caused her to lose face in front of Bibi Dong...
Thinking of this, a cold glint flashed in her eyes, and her red lips parted slightly: "Don't worry, I'll arrange it properly." Her voice was as clear as an icy spring, yet it held a hidden sharpness. "Find him plenty of 'important things' to do, so he won't have time for anything else."

Feng Yao gracefully set down his jade chopsticks, his fingertips lightly tapping the edge of the sandalwood table, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes: "In that case, I'll depart after our meal. With one night gone, Uncle She should be closing in by now."

Qian Renxue picked up the celadon teacup, the rising steam blurring the meaningful curve of her lips: "When Uncle She returns in triumph, I will personally deliver this 'good news' to that old fox." She deliberately emphasized the words "good news," and her cunning eyes were reflected in the teacup.

"Heh," Feng Yao chuckled softly, "I really want to see what kind of interesting expression that old fox will have on his face when he hears about this."

Their eyes met in the air, and they exchanged a knowing smile. The first rays of dawn outside the hall cast long, thin shadows of them on the ground, creating an unfathomable darkness.

A short while later, Feng Yao wiped the corner of his lips with a silk handkerchief. As he stood up, his robes fluttered, carrying a faint scent of sandalwood. He looked up at the gradually brightening clouds on the horizon, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"It's time to set off." He adjusted the embroidered cloud pattern on his cuffs and walked calmly towards the Heavenly Dou Royal Academy. With his departure imminent, he needed to inform those close to him.

Blue Lightning Tyrannosaurus Sect.

The crimson sunset painted the sky, and twilight swept over Dragon Valley like a tide. Before the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, the once clear lake was no longer crystal clear; the dark red blood water rippled in the evening breeze, staining the reflected ruins a ferocious crimson.

On the other side, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School.

As dusk tinged the glazed tiles of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School with a blood-red hue, Qian Renxue's carriage came to an abrupt halt before the gilded mountain gate. The curtain fluttered slightly, and a golden light flowed from her fingertips, her face transforming into the likeness of Xue Qinghe.

"Step aside!"

Before the guards could even salute, she lifted the curtain and stepped out, the royal token flashing coldly in her palm. The usually gentle Crown Prince's brows furrowed with anxiety, his moon-white brocade robe billowing like clouds as he moved swiftly.

The guard's greeting caught in his throat, and he hurriedly knelt down to make way. The malachite-inlaid carriage rolled over the jade steps and stormed straight into the sect.

As she walked through the winding corridor, Qian Renxue deliberately loosened a few strands of her hair ornament. Upon reaching the council hall, she staggered and pushed open the carved doors, her voice trembling with just the right amount of emotion: "Teacher! Something terrible has happened—"

"Qinghe?" Ning Fengzhi paused, a hint of surprise flashing in his gentle eyes. In his memory, when had this usually composed disciple ever lost his composure like this? He would never act this way unless something earth-shattering happened.

Under the light of the glass lamps in the hall, Xue Qinghe's face was deathly pale, his forehead was covered in fine sweat, and even the collar of his robe, embroidered with silver cloud patterns, was disheveled—this was simply unbelievable for the Crown Prince, who usually valued etiquette the most.

Ning Fengzhi's fingers tightened slightly beneath his wide sleeves, leaving several fine marks on the armrest of the sandalwood chair. He asked in a low voice, "What exactly happened?"

Qian Renxue's face seemed frozen by frost, even her lips drained of color. Her fingertips dug deeply into her palms, yet the words she uttered resounded like thunder throughout the palace:
"The Blue Lightning Tyrannosaurus Clan—" her throat tightened, her voice hoarse, "was annihilated."

These eight short characters crashed down like a heavy hammer.

The void suddenly distorted, and the ancient banyan tree's aged figure staggered into existence, its withered fingers gripping the sandalwood pillar tightly. Sword energy surged in the back hall, and Chen Xin's snow-white figure appeared like a drawn sword, his feet treading the Seven Kills Technique, arriving in an instant.

The hall fell into a deathly silence.

With a "crack," the jade teacup in Ning Fengzhi's hand shattered, a fine crack appearing as emerald green tea dripped through his fingers, spreading a glaring stain on the snow-white marble floor. His usually gentle and refined face was now as pale as paper, and even his breathing faltered.

“How is this possible?”

His voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, yet it rang out clearly in the silent hall. As the leader of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, he knew better than anyone the strength of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan—a top-tier sect possessing the number one beast spirit in the world!

The number of non-Soul Masters affiliated with the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan alone exceeds three thousand. Among them, there are no fewer than a hundred Soul Saint level experts, and several Soul Douluos are also present. While the direct descendants possessing the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Martial Soul number only around three hundred, each one is an elite among elites. Not to mention the level ninety-five Thunder Douluo, Yu Yuanzhen.
Even their Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, with Sword Douluo Chen Xin and Bone Douluo Gu Rong at the helm, could only barely rival them. In terms of overall sect strength, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School was still three points inferior.

Ning Fengzhi's heart pounded like a drum, and a fine layer of cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Such a force, capable of shaking the very foundations of the empire, had vanished in a single night? Just how terrifying must the person who did it be!
Chen Xin's figure appeared beside Ning Fengzhi like a ghost. The Seven Kill Sword had already been drawn three inches from its sheath, and its icy sword aura filled the hall.

“Refinement,” his voice was as cold as ice, “In today’s world, who can achieve this?”

The gaunt figure of Gu Rong stepped out from the void, his hoarse voice carrying an unprecedented solemnity: "Besides the Spirit Hall, I can't think of any other possibility."

Ning Fengzhi forced himself to calm down and quickly assessed the current situation: Of the seven major sects, the Clear Sky Sect, one of the upper three sects, had long since gone into seclusion; their Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect primarily focused on support-type attacks; and the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect had already been killed. The Elephant Armor Sect, one of the lower four sects, had long since submitted to the Spirit Hall.
Even more terrifying is that, according to the latest intelligence, the number of Soul Masters directly controlled by the Spirit Hall has exceeded 70% of the total number on the continent. Spirit Hall branches are spread across the two empires like a spider web, their foundations so deep they are practically unfathomable.

"Snapped!"

The teacup in Ning Fengzhi's hand finally shattered completely, sharp shards cutting his palm, blood dripping down mixed with tea. But he was completely unaware, because a more terrifying thought was forming in his mind—

This is not a simple act of revenge, but a long-planned purge! The Spirit Hall is about to change the world!
Ning Fengzhi's face instantly turned deathly pale. His slender fingers unconsciously gripped the armrests of his seat, his knuckles turning bluish-white from the force. The scene of his meeting with Tang Yuehua a few days prior flashed through his mind—

A chilling coldness crept up his spine. Although the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School possessed two Sword and Bone Douluos, if the Spirit Hall truly intended to unleash a massacre...
Outside the window, a withered leaf twirled and drifted down onto the window frame, making a soft "tap" sound in the deathly silent hall.

"Will we be next?"

This thought gnawed at his reason like a venomous snake. As the leader of a sect, he experienced for the first time what annihilation meant.

Ning Fengzhi slowly closed his eyes, his chest heaving violently. The hall was eerily silent; even breathing could be clearly heard.

Suddenly, the Seven Kill Sword in Chen Xin's hand emitted a clear, resonant sword cry, its sharp aura carving a thin line across the ground. Gu Rong, his face grim, traced spatial rifts in the air with his withered fingers, his voice hoarse as sandpaper scraping: "Feng Zhi, we must make plans soon."

Ning Fengzhi suddenly opened his eyes, a resolute glint in them. He abruptly stood up, his sleeves fluttering and creating a gust of wind: "Pass down the order: the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School is to immediately enter wartime alert. All disciples outside are to be recalled immediately, and the entire school is under martial law."

Turning to look at the darkening sky outside the window, Ning Fengzhi's heart sank further. He knew that this storm had only just begun. Since the Spirit Hall dared to attack the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, it would certainly not stop there.

Outside the palace, the last rays of the setting sun were swallowed by dark clouds; a storm was brewing. (End of Chapter)