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

Inside the council hall of Haotian Sect.

Tang Xiao sat upright at the head of the table, his rough fingers tightly gripping the secret letter from Yuexuan. The letter trembled slightly in his hand, cutting the sunlight streaming in from the window into tiny specks of light.

“Yuehua.” His thick eyebrows were furrowed, and the wrinkles on his forehead were as deep as if carved by a knife. The plan mentioned in the letter was causing him great distress.

Just then, an aged yet deep voice came from the palace gate: "Why has the sect leader summoned us here so urgently?"

Five elders filed in, the one leading them being the Second Elder of the Haotian Sect. Though they were old, each step they took caused the air in the hall to tremble.

Tang Xiao snapped out of his reverie and solemnly handed the scroll to the Second Elder: "Please take a look, elders." His voice was low. "The news from Yuehua is of great importance, and Tang Xiao dares not act on my own."

The scroll was passed from one elder to another, and with each elder, the atmosphere in the hall grew more solemn.

After reading the message, all five elders frowned deeply. A message that even the sect leader treated with such seriousness must indeed concern the survival of the sect.

The scroll was passed around in silence and eventually returned to Tang Xiao's hands. The five elders bowed their heads, and only heavy breathing and the faint whistling of the wind outside the window could be heard in the hall.

Tang Xiao's gaze sharpened as he slowly swept over the solemn faces of each elder: "What do you all think should be done about this matter?"

The Second Elder raised his aged yet sharp eyes, his gaze beneath his white brows fixed on Tang Xiao: "Sect Master, you must already have a plan in mind?"

His thin fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of the chair, producing a dull sound. The other four elders also looked up at the same time, their gazes falling on Tang Xiao as if they were real.

Tang Xiao stood with his hands behind his back, his voice as steady as a bell: "I have never doubted Yuehua's judgment." His fingertips lightly traced the scroll. "But if we support the Fourth Prince now..."

He turned and looked at the Haotian Hammer emblem hanging high in the center of the hall: "As the sect leader, my every action represents the will of the sect. It is inconvenient for me to take action personally."

His gaze returned to the five elders: "Therefore, I can only trouble you elders to mediate on my behalf." He placed his right hand on his chest and gave a half-bow, "That's why I specifically sought your opinions."

A flash of lightning streaked across the window, instantly illuminating the varied expressions on the faces of the five elders. The Second Elder's white beard shimmered like silver threads in the lightning. He slowly stroked the armrest of his seat, breaking the silence first, his voice hoarse like sandpaper: "To contend with the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School at this time..." He raised his cloudy yet sharp eyes, "...is not a good thing."

"Ning Fengzhi has cultivated the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School for many years, making it deeply rooted in the Heavenly Dou Sect." His gaze, beneath his white eyebrows, swept over the crowd. "Not to mention, there are those two old fellows, Sword Bone, also overseeing things."

The Seventh Elder slammed his fist on the table, leaving a clear handprint on the stone surface. "Second Brother is far too cautious!" His bushy white beard trembled with his agitated voice. "The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School's only redeeming talents are those two old scoundrels, Sword Bone and the Sword Master!"

He strode to the center of the hall, his black robes fluttering in the strong wind: "If we support that fourth prince to ascend the throne..." He waved his thick arm in the air, creating a gust of wind, "it would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for our Haotian Sect!"

"Yuehua has always been a woman of strong will." The Seventh Elder turned and surveyed the crowd, his voice booming, "Her judgment, the fact that she was able to relay this message back, proves it's feasible."

The Fifth Elder nodded slightly upon hearing this: "I also believe this is feasible." His withered fingers tapped lightly on the back of his chair. "We only need to hold back those two old geezers, Sword Bone."

A glint of light flashed in his cloudy old eyes: "As for whether he can ascend the throne," he paused meaningfully, "it ultimately depends on the young prince's own fate."

He picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and continued, "I doubt that the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School—the lid of the teacup clinked against the rim—would dare to truly break ties with my Haotian School."

The Third Elder's withered fingers nervously rubbed the rim of his teacup, his brow furrowed. "This matter... I'm afraid it will damage our harmony." His voice was low, like the rustling of autumn leaves.

His worried face was reflected in the teacup: "Whether we succeed or fail, we'll have a grudge against the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School." His fingertip traced a line on the table. "What if they sabotage us in secret?"

He suddenly looked up, a hint of wariness flashing in his eyes: "Even siding with the Spirit Hall." His voice abruptly turned cold, "That wouldn't be good."

The Sixth Elder gently stroked the soul tool at his waist, the cool metal seeping through his fingertips: "If successful," a glint of light flashed in his eyes, "the Haotian Sect's return to the continent will be unstoppable."

"Even if things fail," a cold smile played on his lips, "the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School will still need to rely on our sect's strength. The principle of 'if the lips are gone, the teeth will be cold' applies." His sleeves fluttered in the wind. "How could Ning Fengzhi, that clever man, not understand?"

"The struggle for the throne is ultimately a matter of merit," he said, surveying the crowd with a firm voice. "What harm is there in offending someone? I agree."

Tang Xiao surveyed the hall: "Since everyone has differing opinions," he slowly raised his right hand, "then let's vote by raising hands."

As soon as the words were spoken, the Fifth Elder raised his burly arm first, the iron armor bracers clashing together with a clang. Immediately afterward, the Sixth Elder's withered but powerful hand shot through the air, and the Seventh Elder slammed his hand on the table and stood up, raising his iron palm high above his head.

On the other side, the Second Elder and the Third Elder kept their hands firmly on their knees. The Second Elder's white eyebrows were furrowed, while the Third Elder sighed softly and placed the teacup heavily back on the table.

Three to two.

Tang Xiao's gaze slowly swept over everyone present—this result was exactly what he had expected.

The young elders' eyes burned with a fierce, defiant spirit, just like the sect's younger disciples, yearning to break free from this long-standing stalemate. To them, the situation had already reached rock bottom; what was there to fear in a final gamble?
The Second and Third Elders, their graying brows etched with the marks of time, were not cowards, but the fate of the entire sect rested on their shoulders. Their calloused hands could readily die for the sect, but they could not tolerate the Haotian Sect's century-old foundation being destroyed by the recklessness of this generation.

Tang Xiao placed his hands on the table, the sound of his palms striking the stone table making a dull thud. "Since that's the case," he said, his eyes sharp, "then the Fifth Elder will lead the team, accompanied by the Sixth and Seventh Elders, to Tian Dou."

His fingertips tapped heavily on the scroll: "Remember, unless absolutely necessary," his voice suddenly turned deep, "do not act rashly."

A flash of lightning streaked across the window, illuminating his resolute face: "If things cannot be accomplished, retreat immediately."

"I will obey the sect leader's command!"

The three elders responded in unison, their calm tones concealing a fighting spirit suppressed for many years. They exchanged a glance, their black robes fluttering in the strong wind, and in an instant, they transformed into three black shadows and darted out of the hall.

A hint of worry flickered in the Second Elder's aged eyes. His gaze, beneath his white brows, pierced through the hall's gate, looking in the direction the three elders had departed—the Clear Sky Sect of today was like a volcano that had been suppressed for far too long. Those young disciples possessed the world's number one weapon spirit, yet they could only cultivate day after day in the deep mountains. How was this any different from wearing fine clothes in the dark?

"Second Brother," the Third Elder gently placed his withered hand on the Second Elder's shoulder, his voice as hoarse and gentle as autumn leaves, "Those guys... know their limits."

The Second Elder's wrinkles deepened, and a bitter smile appeared on his face: "I hope so." He slowly rose, his hunched back appearing exceptionally aged in the candlelight. "Through years of hard work and perseverance, our sect has finally accumulated the resources to have these six Title Douluos."

“Every ounce of strength,” the voice suddenly turned deep, “must be used at the critical juncture of the sect’s survival.”

Tang Xiao stepped forward: "Second Elder, please don't worry." He gently stroked the old man's hunched back with his broad hand. "The three elders are all powerful figures of our time; their strength is enough to dominate the Heavenly Battle Realm. Moreover, Yuehua is secretly supporting you in the Heavenly Battle Realm; there should be no danger."

Upon hearing this, the Second Elder's tense expression finally relaxed slightly. He nodded slightly: "I hope I'm just being senile and overthinking things." His gaze beneath his white eyebrows softened. "I still trust Yuehua's abilities. Over the years," his voice tinged with emotion, "she's been able to support thousands of disciples throughout the sect with just Yuexuan."

"Not to mention," the Second Elder suddenly chuckled, his white beard trembling slightly with his laughter, "her eye for people is far more discerning than ours, these old folks."

Time flies like an arrow, and autumn is already in full swing.

That morning, before the mist had fully dissipated, a long convoy of carriages slowly entered the gates of Tiandou City. The wheels rolled over the bluestone road, making a dull thud that startled the birds perched in the sycamore trees along the roadside.

Each carriage in the convoy bore the distinctive mark of the Tang Clan and was laden with refined iron ore transported from various mines. The curtain of the lead carriage was slightly lifted, revealing Titan's rugged face.

"Finally here," Titan muttered to himself, his rough fingers rubbing the soul tool at his waist. Several Tang Sect disciples behind him warily glanced around; they all knew what this batch of ore meant to the Tang Sect at this moment.

Just as the guards at the city gate were about to step forward for inspection, one of the men in the convoy flashed a token—the insignia of the Crown Prince's residence. The guards immediately retreated to the sides, watching the convoy slowly drive away towards the Tang Clan, its wheels crunching over the fallen sycamore leaves.

Tang San sat quietly inside the carriage, his long, slender fingers gripping the window sill tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. The rapidly receding scenery outside cast flickering light and shadow in his deep blue eyes.

Although Luo, the founder of Xingxing, had raised a large sum of money by selling hidden weapons, enough to purchase enough mineral raw materials to support the Tang Clan's operations for several months, when he personally visited the three single-attribute clans...
Tang San's fingertips unconsciously traced the moonlit night over the Twenty-Four Bridges, his eyes filled with icy coldness. The attitude of those three families towards him still stung like a fishbone in his throat.

The words of the three clan leaders echoed in Tang San's ears like a persistent, malignant sore—

Niu Gao's rough voice carried undisguised sarcasm: "If we truly desired to curry favor with the powerful, why didn't my Yu clan directly submit to the Heavenly Dou Empire? Or..." He deliberately drawled, "...the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School?"

The old crane's voice held a more complex tone: "Little San, your uncle appreciates your kindness. A bird flew past the window, casting a fleeting shadow. But we old bones have had enough of living under someone else's roof."

The most piercing sound was the shrill cry of Yang Wudi's Soul-Shattering Spear cutting through the air, followed by a cold laugh: "A mere Soul Emperor dares to rule over our four single-attribute clans? Overestimating yourself!" The spear tip stopped three inches from Tang San's throat. "It's the Strength Clan's business to be their lackeys. My Breaking Clan would rather starve than eat food given to us by our enemies!"

The carriage lurched violently, jolting Tang San out of his reverie. He looked down at his palm, where four bloody welts had appeared from his fingernails. Outside the window, the bustling streets of Heaven Dou City rushed past, while the disdain of the three major clans lingered.

Titan sat on the other side of the carriage, his rough fingers unconsciously rubbing the iron hammer at his waist. He looked at Tang San's bloodied palm and sighed silently in his heart—the young master's strength was ultimately too weak.

Without even starting to add spirit rings to the Clear Sky Hammer, how could he possibly keep those arrogant old guys in check? Recalling the scene of Tang San rashly challenging Yang Wudi, Titan's brows furrowed into a knot.

Outside the window, a fallen leaf drifted into the carriage and landed squarely on Tang San's bloodied palm. Titan opened his mouth, but in the end, he simply took out a clean handkerchief and silently handed it over.

The sound of the wheels rolling over potholes masked his barely audible sigh.

The vast difference in soul power was not something that could be easily bridged by a few soul bones. Moreover, the soul bones fused to the young master were mostly characterized by strength, and in a head-on confrontation with Yang Wudi's Soul-Breaking Spear, he would not gain the slightest advantage.

Titan's rough palms were sweating—recalling that thrilling moment: facing Soul Douluos like Niu Gao and Bai He, who weren't known for their offensive prowess, the young master could still hold his own with his Ghostly Shadow Steps. But Yang Wudi's spear...
"laugh!"

The shriek of the spear tip piercing the air still seemed to echo in his ears. If he hadn't blocked it in time with his Martial Soul True Body, the spear light containing the power to shatter the soul would probably have already pinned the young master to the gatepost of the Breaking Clan.

Inside the carriage, the bloodstains on Tang San's palm gradually congealed, turning a dark red color. Titan turned his face away, unable to bear to look any longer.

Titan's rough, large hand gently rested on Tang San's shoulder, his voice extremely low: "Young Master, please don't take these things to heart." He gazed at the rapidly receding scenery outside the window, "I know those old guys' tempers."

“They weren’t targeting you.” His fingers unconsciously traced the grooves of the hammer. “It’s just…” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “He’s tired of living like that, dependent on others.”

The gloom in Tang San's eyes dissipated slightly, and he nodded slightly to Titan. But deep down, he knew perfectly well that after this ordeal, those three single-attribute clans would probably never join the Tang Sect again.

Seeing this, Titan slammed his broad hand against the carriage wall, making the window frames vibrate. "With this batch of raw materials as a foundation," he said, a smile of encouragement spreading across his rugged face, "the foundation of our Tang Clan is now firmly established!"

He pointed out the window to the gradually clearing Tang Clan buildings: "Young Master, look, the chimneys of the forge are already up." His voice unconsciously rose, "Given time, the Tang Clan will surely..."

His words trailed off as he saw the forced smile on Tang San's lips. The young sect leader said softly, "Senior Titan, thank you for your hard work." His voice was so soft it was almost drowned out by the sound of the wheels. "If it weren't for your invaluable assistance..."

Tang San gazed at the nascent buildings, his eyes seemingly piercing through them, landing on a distant, unreachable place: "I truly don't know... what should become of the Tang Sect."

These recent setbacks made Tang San deeply understand that the position of sect leader was not something that could be secured with just passion. The rise and fall of a sect often depended on its leader. Without enough strength to intimidate all sides, how could one win the hearts of those arrogant individuals? Let alone recruit powerful individuals and strengthen the sect.

“Senior Titan,” Tang San suddenly spoke, his voice exceptionally clear in the bumpy carriage, “After processing this batch of raw materials…” He looked up, the gloom in his eyes replaced by determination, “I intend to travel to the Star Dou Great Forest.”

Titan's pupils contracted sharply, and his rough fingers clenched his knees tightly. As someone who had been through it all, he knew all too well what those words meant. After a moment of silence, he clasped his hands in a deep fist salute: "Your subordinate understands."

These few words contain so much unsaid. (End of Chapter)