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

Tiandou City.

As soon as the evening drum sounded, news of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan's annihilation swept through the entire Heavenly Dou Imperial City like a plague. In the secret chambers of noble mansions, crystal chandeliers illuminated terrified faces; even the laundry women along the moat were whispering about this shocking news.

The following day at court, the jade imperial tablet shattered on the ground before the palace. Qian Renxue, sitting beside the empty dragon throne, feigned fury and declared, "Investigate! Investigate thoroughly!" The Crown Prince's furious voice echoed through the Golden Palace, yet it couldn't conceal the fear flickering in the eyes of the assembled ministers. Even Marshal Ge Long, known for his ruthless methods, trembled slightly with his clenched fist.

In the most prestigious restaurant on Tian Dou Street, even the merchants dared not make too much noise with their abacus beads. "I heard even Thunder Douluo..." The customer suddenly fell silent, glancing warily at the Tian Dou guards patrolling outside the window.

After the court session, in the Crown Prince's study, Qian Renxue lightly stroked the latest intelligence file with her fingertips, the candlelight flickering on the faint smile on her lips.

Shrek Academy.

When the words "The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan is destroyed" reached his ears, the tome in Yu Xiaogang's hand slammed to the ground with a "thud." He staggered back two steps, his pupils contracting violently, his cracked lips trembling as he uttered a few broken syllables: "No, this is impossible!" Before he could finish speaking, he collapsed like a puppet with broken strings, his forehead slamming heavily against the stone steps, instantly staining the tome with blood.

Liu Erlong's bloodshot eyes were almost dripping blood. She scooped up Yu Xiaogang, whose face was ashen, and her fiery fire dragon martial spirit erupted uncontrollably, burning all the surrounding vegetation to ashes. "Prepare the car! Now! Immediately!" With a roar, she kicked the door of the dean's office, shattering it.

Upon hearing this, Flander's owl glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose, and he didn't even bother to fix them. Soon, he hurriedly threw the academy's vault key to Zhao Wuji, and the wings that suddenly unfolded on his back overturned the ledgers all over the table: "Old Zhao, the academy is in your hands!" Before he finished speaking, three figures had already soared into the sky, kicking up billowing dust.

In mid-air, Yu Xiaogang awoke with a start amidst the turbulence. He gripped Liu Erlong's wrist tightly, his nails digging deep into her flesh: "Father...he..." His hoarse voice trailed off, and a sudden spurt of blood stained Liu Erlong's clothes. In mid-air, Liu Erlong and Flander involuntarily increased their flying speed.

Yuexuan.

The gilded teacup in Tang Yuehua's hand suddenly fell to the ground, scalding tea splashing onto her elegant skirt, but she seemed oblivious. The news of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan's annihilation was like an icy blade, slowly creeping up her spine to the back of her neck. She abruptly stood up, her moon-white robe billowing like clouds in the wind: "Prepare the carriage! We must proceed to the Power Clan immediately!"

The carriage wound its way through the streets of Tiandou City, the sounds of conversation rising and falling outside the curtains constantly reaching her ears. Tang Yuehua clenched her sleeves tightly.

When the gilded carriage stopped in front of the Power Clan's gate, Tang Yuehua's heart eased slightly. She noticed that the number of sentries around the clan's territory was three times greater than usual, and Tang Clan disciples, armed with concealed weapons, patrolled back and forth; a faint smell of gunpowder filled the air. Titan had clearly prepared for the worst.

"aunt."

Tang San's figure appeared at the end of the corridor, the Twenty-Four Bridges Under the Moonlight gleaming faintly at his waist. In the young man's raised eyes, besides the proper respect, there was also a chilling hint of coldness.

"Mistress, it seems you already know." Tang Yuehua lightly touched the dark pattern on her cuff, her voice three degrees lower than usual. "This storm has probably only just begun."

Tang San's jade-like hand flickered in and out of sight, while the blue silver grass under the eaves swayed without wind: "Don't worry, Aunt, all the Tang Clan's sentries are in position."

Tang San stepped forward, his voice extremely soft: "Aunt, you don't look well."

Tang Yuehua raised her hand and gently pressed her temples. She gazed at her increasingly composed nephew, the worry in her eyes almost tangible: "Auntie is fine, but you..." Her words trailed off, her long neck taut slightly.

Tang San led her to a seat in a rosewood armchair, his Xuan Tian Gong internal energy subtly flowing into her meridians: "Fortunately, the Tang Sect is located in Heaven Dou City." His gaze swept towards the faint outline of the imperial palace visible through the window, "No matter how rampant the Spirit Hall is, it wouldn't dare to openly take action in Heaven Dou City."

"The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School..." Tang Yuehua suddenly gripped the armrest tightly.

"Senior Titan has already gone to the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School." Tang San flipped his palm, revealing a signal firework specially made by the Tang Sect. "I just received the signal; the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School is safe." He gazed meaningfully into the distance. "The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School isn't far from the Heavenly Dou Sect either."

Tang Yuehua gazed at the indistinct mountain silhouettes outside the window, her voice as soft as a sigh: "Unfortunately, Dragon Valley is thousands of miles away. Even if the Sword and Bone Twin Douluos were willing to come to our aid..."

Tang San lightly tapped the sandalwood table with his fingertips: "His Highness the Crown Prince just returned from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, and personally led over a hundred craftsmen from the Imperial Craftsmen's Office to the Tang Sect." As he spoke, Tang San pointed to the construction site outside the window.

Tang Yuehua waved her wide sleeves lightly: "Right now, biding our time is the best strategy. Since Sect Leader Ning has already agreed, the Tang Sect can use all the resources it needs."

Ripples appeared in the tea on the table, reflecting Tang San's slightly reddened eyes: "But the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan... Master, he is right now..."

A soft hand, scented with Lancôme, gently fell into his hair. Tang Yuehua's voice was even gentler than Yuexuan's zither music: "Silly child, you now bear the lives of hundreds of disciples on your shoulders. Wait until you've transformed those hidden weapons into the Tang Clan's impregnable defenses before you go to see your teacher."

Tang San took a deep breath and slowly said, "At this rate, all of Tang Clan's defensive fortifications will be completed within half a month. At that time, I will personally go to fetch Master back."

Qibao Glazed Sect.

The candle wax in the glass cups piled up like mountains, reflecting the lingering somber mood in the council hall. In the nine courtyards of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, patrolling disciples trotted with heavier steps than usual, the clinking of jade pendants at their waists particularly noticeable in the quiet hall.

Ning Fengzhi sat upright on the gilded throne, his usually spotless white robe unusually wrinkled. The affairs on the table were piled high, but he only repeatedly stroked the thunder emblem representing the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, which Gu Rong had personally brought back from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan.

Suddenly, the air inside the hall rippled like water, and the gaunt figure of Gu Rong stepped out from the void, a few wisps of lingering spatial turbulence still clinging to his black robe. Days of patrolling had left his eyes sunken, but his tense expression finally relaxed slightly.

"Uncle Gu, is there anything unusual?" Ning Fengzhi unconsciously tapped the table with his fingertips, and the water in the teacup reflected his slightly furrowed brows.

Gu Rong's well-defined knuckles swept across the void, rippling out a circle of grayish-white soul energy: "I used spatial power to survey the area within a hundred miles of the sect," his hoarse voice trembled with weariness, "not even a suspicious fly." Ning Fengzhi nodded slowly and said, "Let Uncle Jian take over for you for a few days. You should get some rest."

Gu Rong's expression relaxed, and he slowly said, "Feng Zhi, in my opinion..." He suddenly lowered his voice, his withered fingers tracing a line across his neck, "If those madmen really wanted to make a move, they wouldn't have waited until now."

Ning Fengzhi's teaspoon suddenly clinked against the rim of his cup: "You mean... when they extinguished Blue Lightning, could it be..."

"For the monkeys to see?" Gu Rong's sinister gaze swept across the clouds outside the hall, a sudden chill running down his spine. "Wait!" He abruptly grabbed Ning Fengzhi's wrist. "Ever since Tang Hao died here two years ago, that feeling of being watched has never stopped!"

“Uncle Gu,” Ning Fengzhi nodded, his voice as soft as a sigh, “I feel the same way. From the moment we started funding the Tang Sect to the destruction of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, it was only seven days.” He traced the location of Dragon Valley on the map with his fingertip, “The power that could prevent even a Thunder Douluo from sending a distress signal could probably raze the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School in less than half a day. The reason they haven't attacked us is because we still have value.”

The ancient banyan tree slammed its withered hand on the rosewood table, making the teacups clink: "Are we really going to bow down to those executioners?"

Ning Fengzhi took out a scroll from his soul tool and slowly unfurled it, revealing a series of hidden weapon blueprints before the two, still bearing Tang San's handwritten annotations. "Give these blueprints to Salas," he sighed. "And in the name of the sect, present the Papal Palace with rare and precious metals."

"Feng Zhi!" Gu Rong felt somewhat aggrieved, his spatial power uncontrollably tearing open several cracks. "These hidden weapons pose a great threat. If they were given to the Spirit Hall, their soul master legion would be equipped with them..."

Ning Fengzhi suddenly grabbed Gu Rong's wrist: "That's precisely why we must send it! I don't know if the Spirit Hall will actually take action against us. You and Uncle Jian can't be on guard like this forever, and the sect disciples can't stay in this state indefinitely."

Ning Fengzhi's other hand was gripped so tightly that his fingers dug into the sandalwood armrest, his knuckles turning white from the effort. He stared at the glazed lamp on the dome of the main hall, his voice hoarse as if it had been sanded: "Uncle Gu, I know better than anyone what this means. But it concerns the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, and I dare not gamble. The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School is already on the brink of collapse."

"The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School is like a glazed lamp in a storm," he gently touched the jade pendant at his waist, a token of the past sect leaders, "Uncle Jian, you, and we can certainly break through the encirclement, but what about those sect disciples..."

A bead of cold sweat slid down Gu Rong's wrinkled forehead. He fell silent.
"Enough." Ning Fengzhi suddenly stood up. "You should personally go to the Heavenly Dou Holy Temple." He forced a smile that was more like a grimace. "Let them see the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School's sincerity."

Upon hearing this, Gu Rong's figure began to blur, and his figure slowly disappeared into the void, leaving only a soft sigh.

As the last spatial fluctuation subsided, Ning Fengzhi suddenly looked out the window. He vaguely saw Feng Yao's all-knowing eyes.

"Could those eyes be yours?" he murmured to himself, staring at the empty hall.

Star Forest.

A misty morning veil drifted over the ancient hemlocks at the edge of the Starry Sky Forest. Feng Yao's dark robes brushed against the dew-kissed ferns, startling a few phosphorescent, ethereal blue butterflies. He took a deep breath, the air, a mixture of humus and resin, filling his lungs. His eyes reflected this timeless emerald ocean, and Feng Yao felt a surge of joy.

Thinking about what was about to happen, Feng Yao unconsciously stroked the end of Fuxi's tail with his fingertips. The golden-patterned blue silver grass that swayed in his memory suddenly became clear—Feng Yao sighed slightly. This was perhaps the fate of a 100,000-year-old soul beast.

Stepping into the forest was like entering another world. Through his powerful spiritual senses, Feng Yao could clearly perceive some weaker soul beasts in the surrounding area.

Seven spirit rings swirled beneath his feet, and an invisible ripple of spiritual energy spread out from him. Three hundred-year-old Nether Cats froze on the branches, their amber-like vertical pupils reflecting the figure playing the zither; in the distance, a thousand-year-old Xuan Turtle from the bottom of the pool surfaced, its shell patterns flickering with the music.

As the fifth note sounded, the vines of a certain 30,000-year-old Ghost Vine King quietly retreated into the shadows. Feng Yao's lips curled slightly. Most of the soul beasts, which were mostly ten or ten thousand years old, remained motionless, as if listening to Feng Yao's music, and naturally could not cause him any trouble.

Feng Yao is now a Soul Saint, and he now possesses the strength to survive in the Star Dou Great Forest. Even if he encounters a powerful Soul Beast, he can easily escape unscathed with his own strength.

The canopy of the Starry Sky Forest stretches for thousands of miles, rippling with golden-green waves under the setting sun, while a life-filled mist lingers among the ancient trees all day long.

Feng Yao's figure weaved among the gnarled roots of giant trees, his toes brushing against moss-covered rocks, startling several three-eyed demon foxes that were perched there. The patterns on the Fuxi Qin (a type of zither) always gleamed faintly, keeping the poisonous miasma that tried to approach at least three feet away.

On a natural platform formed by a lightning-struck tree, Feng Yao finally stopped. His seven soul rings retracted one by one, startling away the thousand-year-old Netherworld wolves that had been watching nearby. The night breeze brushed against the strings of his zither, automatically playing a calming and soothing melody.

Feng Yao swallowed the last mouthful of dry rations, his fingertips brushing across the strings of the Fuxi Qin, and seven soul rings lit up beneath him in succession. Just as his domain was about to unfold, a cold, spiritual tentacle suddenly pierced his sea of ​​consciousness—as cold and sticky as a venomous snake's hiss.

Feng Yao frowned, and invisible mental ripples erupted in a fan shape. All his mental energy condensed into a beam, piercing the night like a sharp sword. The detection range, originally 500 meters in diameter, instantly extended to 1,500 meters under the one-way amplification, while the width was compressed into a narrow passage that could only accommodate five people side by side.

In the spiritual realm, more than twenty dark figures moved like ghosts among the ancient trees. Gray mist swirled beneath their feet, each step precisely landing on the soul imprints left by their predecessors.

Feng Yao's lips curled into a smile, and his fingertips lightly brushed against the soul tool at his waist. A brilliant golden light flashed, and the elder token engraved with the six-winged angel emblem was already in his hand—the very honorary elder certificate of the Spirit Hall personally bestowed by Bibi Dong.

Five hundred meters from Feng Yao, the Spirit Hall's forces abruptly halted as if receiving a silent command. Twenty Soul Emperor-level experts instantly dispersed, their soul blades flashing with cold light, and more than ten towering ancient trees crashed to the ground under the sharp cuts of their soul power.

A glint of light flashed in Feng Yao's eyes, and with a light touch of his toes, he transformed into a white afterimage, heading towards the direction where the trees had crashed down. The strings of the Fuxi Qin moved automatically without wind, weaving an invisible sonic protective net within a three-zhang radius around him, shattering all the flying wood chips into dust.

(End of this chapter)