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

Tian Dou City, Tang Clan.

The daylight was perfect, and the Tang Sect's council hall was bathed in bright sunlight. Tang San sat upright in the main seat, holding a pink and white rabbit in his arms, his slender fingers gently stroking its soft fur.

Sunlight streamed through the carved window lattice, casting dappled shadows on his handsome profile. His lowered eyelashes were almost transparent in the sunlight, his eyes brimming with an overwhelming tenderness and longing. The rabbit's ruby-like eyes blinked, and it affectionately nuzzled his wrist.

In the bright morning light, Titan's imposing figure appeared before the palace gates. He gazed at his sect leader, lost in thought as he held the white rabbit, and a pang of heartache welled in his wrinkled eyes. Ever since returning from the Star Dou Great Forest, the sect leader had spent long periods each day alone, holding that rabbit.

Titan deliberately slowed his pace, his heavy frame casting a shadow in the sunlight. He wiped his rough hands on his clothes and lowered his voice, saying, "Sect Master."

Tang San's fingers paused, snapping him out of his daze. As he looked up, sunlight fell directly on his slightly upturned lips, but the smile didn't reach his eyes: "Senior Titan, is something the matter?"

The white rabbit in his arms seemed to sense something, and pricked up its ears and rubbed against his wrist.

Titan bowed slightly, a hint of worry appearing on his rugged face. "Sect Master, the raw materials supplied to us by the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School have been decreasing day by day recently." His rough fingers unconsciously rubbed the iron hammer at his waist. "They claim it's needed for their own hidden weapon manufacturing, and with the Heavenly Dou Royal Family increasing their procurement efforts, Sect Master, we must also find a way to establish our own channels. We can't rely solely on the support of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School and the Royal Family."

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting dappled shadows at Tang San's feet. His fingers, which were stroking the rabbit's ears, paused slightly, and a sharp glint flashed in his eyes.

“Senior Titan is right.” Tang San’s voice was calm as still water, yet it seemed to lower the temperature in the hall. “The Tang Sect really should establish its own material supply channels.” He gently placed the white rabbit on the cushion beside him, and as he rose, a breeze stirred from his robes. “We can’t always be at the mercy of others.”

Tang San frowned slightly upon hearing this, his fingertips tapping lightly on the table, producing a crisp sound. "Senior Titan, has this matter been verified? Could the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School's actions—" His gaze darkened slightly, "be just a pretext?"

Titan crossed his thick arms and slowly shook his head: "Sect Master, although the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School is said to be as wealthy as a country, the Heaven Dou Empire's appetite for equipping its entire army with hidden weapons is simply too great. The amount of refined iron consumed by the military every day is enough to double the market price of iron ore in the entire Heaven Dou City."

Tang San's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward slightly: "Senior Titan, you've been involved in manufacturing in the Heaven Dou Empire for many years. Do you have any good strategies?"

Titan stroked his graying beard and said in a deep voice, "Since raw materials are scarce within the Heavenly Dou Empire," his rough fingers drew a line on the table, "then we'll have to purchase from the Star Luo Empire. However..." He frowned slightly, "the price will likely increase by more than 30%, and with transportation costs, the overall cost will rise significantly."

Tang San chuckled softly, his fingertip lightly tracing the moonlit night over the Twenty-Four Bridges. "Money is nothing but an external thing." He stood up, the sunlight casting a long shadow behind him. "Sell off all the hidden weapons in the Tang Clan's inventory, keeping only the necessary amount for personal use."

As he turned, the pouch for hidden weapons at his waist clinked crisply. "Let all the funds and hidden weapons flow," he said, his eyes gleaming as he looked at Titan. "This is the Tang Clan's way of survival."

His past life as an outer disciple of the Tang Sect had given Tang San a thorough understanding of the art of concealed weapon management. He lightly traced the patterns on the concealed weapon pouch at his waist with his fingertips, a hint of reminiscence flashing in his eyes.

"Yes, Sect Master." Titan clasped his hands in a salute, but a hint of worry appeared in his eyes.

Titan's thick fingers unconsciously rubbed the iron hammer at his waist, looking at Tang San with a hesitant expression. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting dappled shadows on his wrinkled face.

Tang San keenly sensed his hesitation and slowly said, "Senior, do you still have concerns?"

"Sect Master, you are wise." Titan took a deep breath, his towering frame leaning slightly forward. "Recently, the Spirit Hall has been making frequent moves. We, the four major sects, have always been closely united." He deliberately lowered his voice. "According to tradition, our biennial gathering will take place this year."

Tang San's eyes flickered slightly, and he tapped his fingertips lightly on the table. "Senior, if I wish to accompany you—" He paused, a glint of light flashing in his eyes—"I wonder if it would be convenient? I would like to take this opportunity to get to know some of you seniors."

Upon hearing this, Titan's gray eyebrows rose slightly. He slammed his rough hand heavily on his knee: "Of course!" His voice boomed, causing dust to fall from the rafters.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting dappled patterns between the two men. Titan gazed at the increasingly composed young man before him, his heart filled with mixed emotions. He knew better than anyone what the Tang Sect needed now—power, allies. Although, given Tang San's current age and cultivation level, gaining the approval of those old fogies would be no easy feat.
Good things come to those who wait. With his young master's continuous growth, Titan believed that one day the Tang Clan would gain the recognition of his old brothers.

"Rest assured, Sect Master." Titan stood up, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and his iron armor clanged. "Although the old brothers are stubborn, they will surely witness the power of the Tang Sect in time." He gave Tang San a meaningful look.

Tang San nodded slightly, sunlight casting a pale golden halo around his handsome profile. "Then it's settled." He lightly stroked the hidden weapon pouch at his waist. "Just let me know when you depart, Senior."

His gaze shifted to the busy Tang Clan disciples outside the window, and he continued, "The affairs of the sect during this period," his voice steady and powerful, "have been entirely handled by Uncle Tai Nuo, who will focus on the two most important tasks: sect development and the management of hidden weapons."

Titan clasped his hands in a salute, his armor gleaming metallically in the sunlight: "I understand." As he turned to leave, his heavy footsteps echoed on the bluestone slabs, mirroring the surging anticipation in his heart.

Tang San stood still, watching Titan's imposing figure gradually disappear into the distance. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting dappled patterns of light into his deep blue eyes, where a hidden current seemed to surge.

He lowered his head and gently stroked the soft fur of the white rabbit in his arms, his fingertips almost transparent in the sunlight. The rabbit blinked its ruby ​​eyes and gently nuzzled his wrist.

“Xiao Wu.” His voice was as soft as a sigh, yet carried a resolute determination etched into his very being, “Those who hurt you—his knuckles turning slightly white from the pressure—I will not let a single one of them go.”

Outside the window, a fallen leaf twirled past, casting a fleeting shadow on the bluestone slab.

Under the blazing sun, the Prince Tiandou's mansion was bathed in intense heat.

Avalanche paced back and forth in the main hall, his brocade boots making a rapid sound on the golden nanmu wood floor. He kept wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

"Crunch—"

The palace doors were flung open, and Prince Xuexing strode in, his purple python robe still stained with dust from his journey. He closed the doors behind him, casting a shadow inside.

Upon hearing this, Xue Beng immediately stepped forward and tightly grasped Prince Xue Xing's sleeve, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force. "Uncle, what's the situation?" he asked urgently, his voice filled with undisguised anxiety. "Would Senior Dugu be willing to help?"

Prince Xuexing sighed heavily, raising his hand to brush the morning dew from his python robe. "I personally went to Sunset Forest." He shook his head, his brow furrowed with seriousness. "Dugu Bo clearly stated that he did not wish to interfere in the royal family's disputes."

Changing the subject, he pressed down on Xue Beng's trembling shoulders: "However, he promised," his eyes sharp, "that he would protect your life in a critical moment."

Xue Beng's gaze suddenly turned cold, the anxiety from before receding like a tide, replaced by a bone-chilling coldness: "Save my life?" He scoffed, his voice as cold as ice, "If it could truly save my life, why would I have entrusted Dugu Yan to the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan in the first place?"

He whirled around, his gilded sleeves tracing a sharp arc in the air. Sunlight streamed through the window lattices, casting dappled shadows on his sinister profile. "Uncle," Xue Beng's fingers dug deeply into his palms, "Now in the court, those opportunists have all sided with Xue Qinghe." Each word seemed to be squeezed out through clenched teeth, "The Crown Prince's power is growing stronger every day, while we..."

He turned to look at Xue Xing, his eyes surging with resentment and anger: "Besides you, who else?"

The teacups on the table had gone cold sometime ago, and the water reflected the distorted face of the avalanche.

Xue Xing silently watched his agitated nephew, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes. He slowly stroked his gray beard, his mind clear as a mirror—even with Dugu Bo's help, Xue Beng's hope of shaking that position remained slim.

Sunlight streamed through the carved window lattices, casting dappled shadows throughout the hall. Xuexing's gaze fell upon the cup of tea on the table, now cold, its surface reflecting her weary face.

Avalanche has far too few chips in its hand.

Very few.

Compared to Xue Qinghe, who had the entire Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School standing behind him, he was like a firefly compared to the bright moon.

"Uncle Wang." The sound of an avalanche pulled him back to reality.

Xuexing closed his eyes, ultimately refraining from uttering this cruel truth. He reached out and patted his nephew's shoulder, and where he touched him, he felt that beneath the magnificent brocade robe lay a boy's frail and pitiful body.

Xue Beng suddenly straightened his back, a resolute glint in his eyes: "Uncle Wang, come with me to Yuexuan." His voice was deep and firm, as if he had made up his mind.

Upon hearing this, Prince Xuexing's eyes flashed with a sharp light. His aged fingers unconsciously caressed the jade pendant at his waist: "You mean—" His voice trailed off, but the unspoken understanding between them had already filled the air.

A fierce, resolute flame ignited in Xue Beng's eyes, his face beneath the gilded crown revealing a ruthless determination: "Since he can win over the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School," his fingers slamming heavily on the table, making the teacup clink, "then I'll find an equally matched opponent."

He turned to look out the window, his gaze seemingly piercing through the palace walls, pointing straight into the distance: "Even if it costs me everything, I must gain the support of the Haotian Sect."

Looking at her nephew's tense back, Xue Xing suddenly realized that this once frivolous boy had changed. Xue Beng was right—although the Haotian Sect had closed its doors, its tentacles had never truly been withdrawn through Yuexuan and the Tang Sect.

No one is willing to remain dormant forever.

As long as there are enough chips
Prince Xuexing frowned, his aged fingers unconsciously stroking the jade pendant at his waist. "Even with the help of the Haotian Sect," he said in a heavy voice, "the palace is now filled with Xue Qinghe's spies, and the Royal Knights are also under his control. What are you going to do?"

Xue Beng suddenly raised his hand to interrupt, a cold smile playing on his lips: "Does Uncle really think that the deaths of my eldest and third brothers—" He lowered his voice, each word dripping with venom—"and Father's illness are just such a coincidence?"

Outside the palace, the bright sunlight cast eerie shadows on Xue Beng's sinister face.

“That old fox Ning Fengzhi,” Xue Beng toyed with the jade paperweight on the table, “if he were truly devoted to Xue Qinghe, would he have allowed us to live this long?”

Prince Xuexing's sharp gaze swept over the avalanche like a knife, his voice low and deep: "Do you have any concrete evidence?"

Avalanche casually adjusted his cuffs, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. "Not now." He looked up, his eyes gleaming with ambition. "But if I win..."

"The evidence will naturally emerge."

He walked slowly to the window, sunlight shimmering on his magnificent brocade robe: "Blue Lightning has been extinguished, and the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School is now the sole power in Heaven Dou." As he turned, the jade pendant at his waist clinked crisply. "Using the Clear Sky School as a counterbalance is precisely in Heaven Dou's interest!"

Xue Xing stared at his nephew's blurry silhouette in the halo of light and was startled. Although he knew that his nephew was a man of hidden talents and unassuming manners, he did not expect that he would be so well-versed in the ways of power today.

Xue Xing remained silent for a long time, a barely perceptible hint of relief flashing in his aged eyes. He slowly rose, the folds of his python robe gleaming faintly in the sunlight.

“These…” He patted Xue Beng on the shoulder, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy, “we’ll leave them for another time.”

As she turned, the jade pendant at her waist jingled melodiously: "Let's go. Give it your all."

Prince Xuexing gestured, and as the two arrived at the gate of the palace, a servant immediately brought over a low-key yet exquisite sandalwood carriage. The prince's emblem was engraved on the carriage shaft, but it was cleverly concealed by subtle patterns, appearing and disappearing in the sunlight.

Avalanche crouched down inside, the gilded crown casting a shadow in the carriage. Snow Star followed, the hem of her python robe sweeping across the footboard, stirring up fine dust.

"Go to Yuexuan," Xuexing ordered in a deep voice.

The coachman lightly flicked the reins, and four pure white snow-capped horses set off with synchronized strides. The wheels rolled over the cobblestone road with a dull thud, and the guards along the way bowed their heads in salute.

Inside the carriage, Xue Beng looked out at the street through the gauze window, his gloomy eyes concealing a great ambition.

Before long, the carriage came to a steady stop in front of the Moon Pavilion.

Avalanche lifted the carriage curtain, revealing the Moon Pavilion's iconic aristocratic-style gate. In the morning light, the gilded door knockers gleamed softly, and although the lamps on either side were extinguished, they still emitted a faint scent of sandalwood.

Prince Xuexing alighted from the carriage first, his purple python robe swaying slightly in the breeze.

"We've arrived," Xuexing said softly, tapping her fingers lightly on the jade pendant at her waist.

Xue Beng straightened his clothes and brushed his hand over the jade pendant at his waist. He took a deep breath and headed towards the gate of Yuexuan.

(End of this chapter)