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

Yue Guan observed the subtle atmosphere between the four with great interest, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. He elegantly twirled the rare and precious chrysanthemum in his hand, its petals gleaming eerily in the moonlight.

"Youth is wonderful," he murmured, a hint of wry smile in his voice. No sooner had he spoken than his figure blurred, his golden robe tracing a dazzling path in the night, vanishing like a ghost, leaving only a few falling petals as proof that he had once stood there.

"Third Soul Skill, Aura Barrier."

Feng Yao seemed to sense something and glanced at the barrier, a knowing smile appearing on his lips. The falling petals weren't scattered randomly, but rather subtly formed a barrier, enveloping the entire camp—this seemingly carefree Chrysanthemum Douluo was actually constantly fulfilling his duty of surveillance.

Seeing this, Feng Yao gracefully curtsied, a faint smile playing on his lips: "Thank you for arranging this for me, Your Highness."

Hu Liena's eyes flickered slightly, and she turned to her companions, saying softly, "Brothers, you should go and rest first." Her voice was gentle, but it carried an undeniable authority.

Yan hesitated, then looked at Hu Liena, his eyes filled with worry: "Nana."

Xie Yue exchanged a knowing glance with his sister, sighed helplessly, and stepped forward to pat Yan on the shoulder: "Let's go." He deliberately increased the pressure on his hand, implying the danger involved.

Yan glared at Feng Yao resentfully, but was eventually half-pushed and half-pulled away by Xie Yue. Under the moonlight, the two figures gradually disappeared into the shadows of the tent, leaving Hu Liena alone to face this unfathomable young man. The night breeze blew, stirring her golden hair and dispelling the tension of the moment.

After the two had walked away, Hu Liena let out a soft sigh of relief, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on her delicate profile. She tilted her head slightly, her voice softening unconsciously: "Come with me."

Feng Yao nodded in thanks: "Thank you, Holy Maiden." He maintained a perfect distance beside Hu Liena, his gaze subtly sweeping across their surroundings. Under the moonlight, their shadows flickered between the tents, as if enacting a silent game of strategy.

Hu Liena could clearly feel a faint presence behind her, a feeling both familiar and strange. She subconsciously slowed her pace, her fingertips unconsciously twirling a strand of golden hair, as if pondering how to begin. A night breeze blew by, carrying the soft crackling of a distant campfire, adding warmth to the tranquil night.

The two walked slowly along the gravel path between the tents, Hu Liena's pace gradually slowing down. Feng Yao noticed her hesitation and spoke gently, "If Your Highness has any questions, please speak freely. Since I chose to come here, my stance is clear." A faint smile played in his eyes. "Cultivating talent for the Spirit Hall is simply my duty as an honorary elder."

Upon hearing this, Hu Liena abruptly stopped and turned to look directly at Feng Yao. In the moonlight, her foxy eyes flashed with a sharp light: "Why is it that within your domain, I can't even unleash the Killing God Domain?" Her voice was soft, yet it carried an undeniable determination.

Feng Yao's smile deepened: "The Domain of the God of Slaughter?" His slender fingers gently caressed the jade pendant at his waist, his tone full of meaning.

Hu Liena stared at him intently, a moment of silence hanging between them. The night breeze ruffled the stray hairs on her forehead, but couldn't dispel the inquiry in her eyes. Finally, she slowly nodded, awaiting an answer.

Feng Yao's fingertips lightly caressed the strings, producing a clear, resonant tremolo: "Has Your Highness ever considered the true nature of a domain?"

"Essence?" Hu Liena's red lips parted slightly, a hint of confusion flashing in her eyes.

Seeing the confused look on this prodigy's face, Feng Yao patiently explained, "A domain is actually a force field created by a Soul Master through their Martial Soul, allowing them to influence their surroundings." He condensed a wisp of Soul Power at his fingertips, tracing mysterious patterns in the air. "There are three reasons why you cannot use a domain."

Hu Liena leaned forward unconsciously, her long golden hair fluttering in the wind.

“First,” Feng Yao’s voice flowed like a clear spring, “is the difference in mental strength.” He pointed to his temple, “My mental strength cultivation is higher than yours.”

"Secondly," he continued, lightly tapping his chest with his finger, "your understanding of killing intent is still insufficient." These words caused Hu Liena's pupils to shrink slightly, and she couldn't help but recall the past in the City of Slaughter.

"As for the third point," Feng Yao gently stroked the Fuxi Qin, and all seven strings glowed faintly at the same time, "the music has the ability to influence others. Your Killing God Domain before me is like—" He paused, finding a fitting metaphor, "like the midday sun melting ice; my domain is extremely effective against the Killing God Domain."

Upon hearing this, a flicker of understanding crossed Hu Liena's beautiful, autumn-water-like eyes, but it was quickly replaced by confusion. She bit her lip lightly, hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "Then...how can I break through?"

Feng Yao's fingertips lightly caressed the strings, producing a clear and melodious sound: "Forgive my bluntness, but the Killing God Domain should never have been your primary cultivation path." Seeing Hu Liena's sudden change in expression, he added gently, "This domain is merely icing on the cake for you. While it certainly gives you a significant advantage against ordinary Soul Masters,..."

His tone shifted, his gaze landing on Hu Liena's waist: "Your path has already been indicated by your martial spirit. If you can achieve the suppression effect of 'Enchanting Charm' solely through the power of your martial spirit, then your true domain will naturally emerge."

Hu Liena's delicate brows furrowed deeply, her fingers unconsciously clenching the hem of her clothes. The days of bloody battles in the Killing City flashed through her mind—the killing techniques she had mastered on the brink of death, the cultivation achievements bought with blood—were they all to be completely negated?

Under the moonlight, a hint of resentment and struggle surfaced on her beautiful face. Feng Yao's words were like a sharp blade, mercilessly dissecting her long-held beliefs. But deep inside, a voice told her: perhaps, this young man is right.

Feng Yao looked at Hu Liena's slightly trembling fingertips, his voice softening slightly: "Perhaps my words were too blunt, but your killing intent has no effect on me; that's an undeniable fact." He lightly tapped the strings of his zither, producing a clear resonance. "However, for 99% of the world's Soul Masters, they will never even touch the threshold of their Domain in their entire lives. From this perspective, you have already reached a height that ordinary people cannot attain."

A night breeze swept by, swirling a few fallen leaves between the two. Feng Yao's gaze suddenly deepened: "But in true duels between masters, often the slightest difference can mean the difference between life and death." He paused, his voice suddenly lowering, "Remember that Haotian Douluo from the Soul Master Competition? He also possessed the Killing God Domain, yet before him..."

Before he finished speaking, Hu Liena understood his meaning. The image of that towering figure, as majestic as a mountain, flashed into her mind. At that moment, her clenched hand tightened unconsciously, her nails digging deep into her palm, yet she felt no pain.

Feng Yao timely stopped speaking, then said gently, "A weapon spirit master like Tang Hao is naturally more suited to the killing domain. The suppression of battle aura is essentially a spiritual confrontation." He gazed softly at Hu Liena, "Your spiritual power is actually not weak, and it even far surpasses the level of ordinary spirit emperors." A night breeze gently blew, ruffling the stray hairs on Hu Liena's forehead. Feng Yao's voice flowed like a clear spring: "It's just that your way of using spiritual power is too rudimentary, relying too much on the skills granted by spirit rings and spirit bones." He looked meaningfully at Hu Liena's brow, "The skill in that skull reward from the previous competition must have been specially prepared for you by His Holiness the Pope, right? This natural resource advantage is actually a limitation for you."

"Hmph." Hu Liena snorted softly, turning her face away without uttering a rebuttal. In the moonlight, the delicate lines of her profile were taut, her long eyelashes casting shadows beneath her eyes. Her slender fingers unconsciously caressed the martial spirit at her waist, clearly indicating that her secret had been exposed.

Feng Yao's every word was like a sharp blade, hitting the nail on the head, causing a hint of irritation to appear on Hu Liena's delicate face. She couldn't help but interrupt, "After all this talk, you still haven't told me how to break through."

To her surprise, Feng Yao looked astonished. He frowned slightly, as if pondering something, and after a moment tentatively asked, "Has His Holiness the Pope ever given you a book?"

"A book?" Hu Liena was taken aback at first, then seemed to remember something, and her jade-like hand touched the soul tool at her waist. A beautifully bound book appeared in her palm, the words "On How Soul Masters Can Improve" in gold lettering on the cover shining brightly in the moonlight.

"You mean this?" She gently held up the book.

Seeing this, Feng Yao sighed and rubbed his forehead in exasperation: "It is indeed this book." He lightly tapped the pages with his slender fingers. "The answers you seek are all here. Strange. I clearly presented this book to His Holiness the Pope a long time ago, yet you haven't even glanced at it?"

A flicker of embarrassment crossed Hu Liena's face. Her fingertips unconsciously traced the edges of the pages, and a blush crept onto her fair cheeks. Her fingers involuntarily tightened around the hem of her dress. "Back then... I had just left the City of Slaughter and hadn't completely shaken off its influence, so..."

Feng Yao's gaze was gentle yet knowing: "This is precisely why I said you're not suited for the God of Slaughter domain." He gently stroked the strings, producing a clear, resonant tremolo. "If you could truly wield this power, you should be no different from an ordinary person after leaving the City of Slaughter. Losing control precisely demonstrates that you are not compatible with this power."

Under the moonlight, Hu Liena's eyelashes trembled slightly, as if her secret thoughts had been revealed.

"His Holiness the Pope must have gone to great lengths to help you readjust to normal life, right?" Feng Yao asked softly.

Hu Liena nodded slightly, her voice softening unconsciously: "For a whole year, I've been learning to sew clothes." Her fingertips lightly traced the delicate dark patterns on the cuffs, which she had embroidered herself, stitch by stitch.

A hint of appreciation flashed in Feng Yao's eyes: "That's a good way to cultivate one's character." He gazed thoughtfully at the flickering campfire in the distance, saying, "The act of sewing is most conducive to calming the mind."

As Feng Yao spoke, he suddenly covered his mouth and yawned, then lazily stretched: "Study that book carefully, and you'll naturally find your own path. Now..." He rubbed his eyes, "Take me to the camp; I'm a little tired."

Looking at the lazy young man before her, Hu Liena found it hard to reconcile him with the eloquent and knowledgeable expert she had just witnessed. She thought to herself, "How did such a lazy fellow manage to cultivate to such a level?"

"Let's go." She turned around decisively, her pace much faster than when she came. In the moonlight, their shadows moved quickly between the tents.

Before long, Hu Liena led Feng Yao to an empty tent. Before Feng Yao could thank her, she hurriedly turned and left, her long golden hair drawing a graceful arc in the night wind, clearly eager to return and study the classic text.

Feng Yao watched her departing figure, a faint smile playing on his lips. The night breeze rustled the tent flaps, as if whispering a secret. He shook his head, lifted the tent flap, and stepped inside, his figure gradually disappearing into the shadows of the tent.

Watching Hu Liena's hurried departure gradually disappear into the night, Feng Yao couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle. He turned and walked into the tent, lay down on the bed without any ceremony, and casually pulled the quilt over himself.

"Haa—" He yawned deeply, snuggled against the soft pillow, and squinted comfortably. Without Qian Renxue by his side, and without the aid of a simulated cultivation environment, he was too lazy to cultivate diligently at a time like this.

Moonlight streamed through the gaps in the tent flap, casting dappled shadows on his handsome profile. Feng Yao snapped his fingers, and a ripple of light swept across the tent, extinguishing all the lamps inside.

"Cultivation or something," he mumbled vaguely, his voice trailing off, "Let's talk about it tomorrow."

Soon, even breathing filled the tent. The night breeze gently swayed the tent flaps, as if sighing helplessly at the lazy way this genius soul master wasted his talent. A contented smile lingered on Feng Yao's lips as he slept, seemingly dreaming of something wonderful.

As dawn broke, Feng Yao lifted the tent flap, a hint of sleepiness still lingering in his eyes. He stretched, the morning dew dampening his sleeves. In the distance, the members of the Spirit Hall were gathered around a campfire, enjoying a simple breakfast.

Feng Yao had only taken a few steps when he felt a scorching gaze. Yan Zheng was staring intently at him, his hand almost crushing the dry rations in his hand. Feng Yao smiled nonchalantly and strolled leisurely towards the crowd.

"Xiao Feng, come here." Yue Guan beckoned to him, handing him a piece of dried meat and a hard flatbread. "The conditions are simple, make do with these."

Feng Yao accepted the gift with both hands and said gently, "Senior, you're too kind. This is much better."

A morning breeze swept through the camp, carrying the sweet scent of burning pine, marking the start of a new day. Everyone ate their breakfast quietly, except for Yan, whose face grew even more somber.

(End of this chapter)