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

The Seven Treasures Glazed Tile School, atop the Glazed Tile Pagoda.

Ning Fengzhi, dressed in a plain white robe, stood alone by the railing. Since that day of enlightenment, he had gradually relinquished many of the sect's trivial matters, entrusting them to the elders. Now, he preferred to stand quietly at the highest point of the sect, overlooking this foundation that had been passed down for hundreds of years.

In the morning light, the seven-colored glazed tiles shimmered with a dreamlike glow. The shouts of disciples doing their morning exercises could be faintly heard, and wisps of smoke rose from the various courtyards. Ning Fengzhi's slender fingers gently caressed the railing, feeling the warm touch of the glass beneath his fingertips—it was crafted from the finest glazed crystal.

His gaze slowly swept over the entire Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School. In his eyes, this massive sect operated day after day, like an ancient and intricate machine. However, when he thought back carefully, he realized that the changes in the sect over the past sixty years were far more dramatic than he had imagined.

The glazed tile buildings in the morning mist were even more magnificent than he remembered. The newly added pavilions and towers, and the expanded training grounds, all gradually took shape after he took over the sect. The disciples' attire had changed from simple gray robes to magnificent robes embroidered with colorful cloud patterns.

Ning Fengzhi suddenly realized that he had never before truly calmed down and taken a good look at the sect to which he had poured his life's blood. A gentle breeze blew by, lifting a strand of silver hair at his temple. It turned out that, without realizing it, not only had the sect changed, but he himself was no longer the spirited young sect leader he once was.

He hadn't lost his former ambition; rather, he was more acutely aware than anyone else that the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School's development had reached its ceiling. This glazed pagoda, built with the blood and sweat of countless generations, led to an abyss beyond.

His profound gaze swept over every pavilion and tower, every training ground. Behind this splendor lay immense possession, entanglements of interests among various powerful forces, and the covetous eyes of outsiders. Just as a beautiful glazed pagoda has its limits in terms of its weight.

"If I force a breakthrough any further," Ning Fengzhi lightly stroked the railing, the coolness of the glass emanating from his fingertips, "I fear that all of this will ultimately vanish like a bubble."

In the morning light, his figure appeared exceptionally lonely. As the sect leader, he knew better than anyone that sometimes the greatest wisdom was not to forge ahead, but to know when to retreat gracefully at the peak.

A dark fluctuation of soul power rippled out from the top of the tower, and the figure of Gu Rong, as black as ink, slowly condensed behind Ning Fengzhi.

"Uncle Gu, how did it go?" Ning Fengzhi asked without turning his head, his voice as gentle as if he were asking about the weather. He reached out and caught a falling petal, his expression calm and showing no sign of tension.

A complex expression appeared on Gu Rong's aged face as he said in a deep voice, "The Haotian Sect has been defeated."

Ning Fengzhi raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, which quickly turned into a relieved smile. He gently stroked the glass railing, his voice carrying a touch of pleasure: "It seems that the path that child Feng Yao chose for the sect is correct."

Turning to look at the ancient banyan tree, Ning Fengzhi lightly flicked his sleeve: "Uncle Gu, please explain in detail."

Gu Rong's voice was deep and slow, sounding exceptionally clear in the morning light: "It turns out that two unfamiliar Title Douluos have been secretly guarding Xue Qinghe all along. Even more unexpectedly, that brat Feng Yao invited Dugu Bo to the scene on the eve of the great battle."

His withered fingers unconsciously traced the railing as he continued, "Originally, it was a three-on-three situation. An ordinary Title Douluo against those three brats from the Clear Sky Sect should have been at a disadvantage. But who would have thought..." A hint of apprehension flashed in Gu Rong's eyes, "that brat Feng Yao used some tricks and actually turned the tide of the battle. Seeing the situation was unfavorable, the Clear Sky Sect members immediately withdrew."

At this point, Gu Rong unconsciously touched his chest. Even with his level 95 cultivation, recalling the earth-shattering attack Feng Yao had unleashed last night still sent a chill down his spine. An attack of that magnitude, if taken head-on, would have had unimaginable consequences.

Ning Fengzhi's eyes gleamed with admiration: "Truly, heroes emerge from among the young!"

Gu Rong continued solemnly, "Feng Zhi, there's one more thing. That Xue Qinghe is actually a woman in disguise." He lowered his voice, "Judging from her demeanor, her position in the Spirit Hall is probably quite significant. Moreover..."

A hint of amusement flashed in the old man's eyes: "She and that brat Feng Yao are quite close."

Upon hearing this, Ning Fengzhi paused slightly, his teacup still in his hand. Morning light filtered through the glazed tiles, casting shifting shadows on his face. After a moment, he suddenly chuckled softly, a hint of delighted realization flashing in his eyes: "So that's how it is. I should have thought of that sooner." He gently stroked the glazed railing, shaking his head with a wry smile. "Compared to Feng Yao, my 'disciple' certainly understands the ins and outs of our Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect better."

Bathed in the morning light, Ning Fengzhi's expression softened: "It's hard on that child, calling me 'teacher' for over a decade." His words carried a hint of elder's pity.

He turned to look in the direction of Tiandou City, his eyes gleaming. With this special relationship, his plan suddenly became clear—perhaps it was time to negotiate terms with this "prized student." Ning Fengzhi's lips curled slightly, the teacup between his fingers reflecting a rainbow of colors in the morning sun, just like the various possibilities he was considering.

Ning Fengzhi gently tapped the ground with his glass scepter, producing a crisp sound that rippled with a seven-colored halo in the morning light. As he turned, his robes fluttered like flowing clouds. "Let's go, Uncle Gu," he said, his voice carrying a long-lost certainty. "It's time to prepare a respectable congratulatory gift for our new emperor."

Gu Rong nodded solemnly, a look of approval on his wrinkled face. Having witnessed the earth-shattering battle last night, he deeply understood the wisdom of Ning Fengzhi's decision at this moment. He was also secretly glad that he hadn't forced Feng Yao to stay in the sect.

"Fortunately," Gu Rong thought to himself, his withered fingers unconsciously rubbing his sleeves. If Feng Yao had been detained that day, not to mention that the boy himself could turn the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School upside down, his close relationship with that "Xue Qinghe" alone would have been enough to bring the sect to its doom.

Seeing the glint in Ning Fengzhi's eyes, Gu Rong smiled knowingly. He knew that this time Ning Fengzhi had truly made up his mind—the great ship of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School was finally about to choose its course.

A morning breeze stirred their robes as Ning Fengzhi strode down the tower. Behind him, the rising sun draped the Seven Treasures Glazed Pagoda in a golden veil, foreshadowing a new chapter for the sect.

On the other side, at Yuexuan.

Tang Yuehua stood quietly before the carved window, her slender fingers unconsciously tracing the window frame. Morning light filtered through the thin gauze, casting a hazy glow on her delicate profile. Her usually smiling eyes were now furrowed, revealing a rare hint of worry.

Outside the window, a leaf twirled and drifted down, just like her chaotic thoughts at that moment.

"Yuehua, give me a straight answer!" The Seventh Elder paced back and forth in the hall, slamming his Clear Sky Hammer heavily on the ground. "Now that the new emperor of Heaven Dou is practically in cahoots with the Spirit Hall, how can we possibly stay in this wretched place?"

The Fifth Elder raised his hand to calm the impatient Seventh Elder: "Seventh Elder, calm down." He turned to the pensive Tang Yuehua, his tone much gentler, "Although this operation failed, we have learned about the enemy's strength. Taking you away from Tiandou will be a piece of cake. Think it over carefully."

Tang Yuehua's worry deepened: "There are many strange things about this matter. What I can't understand the most is..." She looked up at the three elders, "If it's about seeking help, shouldn't Xue Qinghe's first choice be Ning Fengzhi, who has taught him for many years? Why did he become a member of the Spirit Hall?" The Sixth Elder pondered, "In my opinion, that old fox Ning Fengzhi is probably not simple." His eyes flashed, "Given his control over the Heavenly Battle, he most likely already knew that the Crown Prince was acting strangely. His current inaction is probably..."

Upon hearing this, the Fifth Elder's cloudy eyes narrowed sharply, and his grip on the Clear Sky Hammer tightened involuntarily. "That Ning Fengzhi! He dares to use my Clear Sky Sect as a weapon!" Lightning crackled across the hammer. "Luckily, we stopped in time, otherwise, regardless of victory or defeat, that old fox would have thoroughly investigated the Spirit Hall and our secrets!"

Tang Yuehua frowned slightly. Although the explanation was reasonable, she felt that something crucial had been overlooked.

“My three uncles, if things are truly as we predict, there’s no need to rush to leave Tian Dou,” Tang Yuehua said, a glint of wisdom flashing in her beautiful eyes. “The Crown Prince won by borrowing the power of the Spirit Hall, but he may not be willing to be their puppet. As for us…”

She looked out the window towards the palace, her voice growing deeper: "Perhaps he will become a key pawn in his covert efforts to balance the Spirit Hall and the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School."

Upon hearing this, the three elders exchanged glances with varying expressions. The Fifth Elder pondered, the Sixth Elder's eyes gleamed, and even the Seventh Elder, who was the most impatient, fell into thought.

Tang Yuehua gently raised her hand and poured hot tea for the three elders. "In my opinion," she said, "Sixth Uncle and Seventh Uncle should return to the sect first and inform Eldest Brother of the details." Her gaze was calm amidst the fragrant tea. "Fifth Uncle can stay and observe the situation with Yuehua. If the situation changes, we can evacuate Tiandou at any time. Eldest Brother can then decide whether the sect should relocate."

The Fifth Elder gazed at the tea leaves floating in his cup, then slowly nodded. "As Yuehua says." He turned to the other two, his voice suddenly becoming serious: "Sixth and Seventh Elders, you must report this matter to the Sect Master truthfully, the sooner the better!"

The Sixth Elder and the Seventh Elder exchanged a glance, then rose and clasped their hands in greeting. Two figures flashed through the hall like lightning, a gust of wind whipping up Tang Yuehua's skirt, the windowpanes trembling violently, before disappearing into the morning mist.

Tang Yuehua gently pressed her wind-blown hair, gazing at the dissipating morning mist outside the window. The Fifth Elder beside her said in a deep voice, "Girl, what's next..."

“Wait.” Tang Yuehua tapped her fingertips lightly on the table. “Wait until that new emperor truly needs us.”

Wuhun City, the Pope's Palace.

Golden rays of dawn streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting dappled light and shadow on the polished marble floor. Bibi Dong sat high on the papal throne, her slender fingers gently caressing the jewel at the top of her scepter. The hall was silent except for the soft sound of her fingertips rubbing against the gem.

She lowered her eyes and stared at the secret letter that She Long had sent back overnight; every line of writing shimmered in the morning light.

“Interesting.” Her red lips parted slightly, her voice echoing in the empty hall. When she saw Feng Yao and Qian Renxue’s subsequent plans, a hint of appreciation flashed in her amethyst eyes. Her fingertips unconsciously tapped the armrest, the rhythm perfectly matching the calculations in her mind.

Outside the palace, dawn was breaking. The first rays of sunlight pierced through the stained-glass windows, illuminating her slightly upturned lips. The plan was indeed ingenious; even she, the Pope, had no room for improvement.

"So you've finally grown up and are coming back?" Bibi Dong gently stroked Qian Renxue's name on the letter with her fingertips, a complex emotion rising in her heart that was hard to describe.

As her gaze swept over the information about the Clear Sky Sect in the intelligence report, her beautiful eyes suddenly turned cold: "The Clear Sky Sect truly has a wealth of talent." The pressure on her fingers unconsciously increased, leaving several fine creases on the letter. "Besides Tang Hao, there are actually six more Title Douluos hidden among them."

A cold laugh echoed through the hall, carrying a chilling aura. The scepter slammed heavily on the ground, the sound reverberating throughout the hall.

“However,” she slowly rose, her papal robes cascading down her back like flowing water, “no matter how many Title Douluos there are, they cannot stop the Spirit Hall’s advance.”

Bibi Dong raised her eyes to look at She Long, who stood silently in the hall, and said in a voice as clear as a spring, "Elder She, you have worked hard this time."

She Long immediately knelt on one knee, holding his spear horizontally in front of him: "Serving Your Majesty is my duty." His deep voice echoed in the empty hall.

Bibi Dong lightly tapped the papal scepter with her fingertip, the gilded blade shimmering with a faint glow. "Tell them their plan is approved." She paused slightly, a profound light flashing in her purple eyes. "The negotiations with the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School are also left to their discretion."

"I will obey Your Majesty's decree." She Long bowed slightly and disappeared from the hall in the next second, as if he had never been there at all.

Bibi Dong paused for a moment, then lightly tapped her fingertip on the papal scepter. An invisible spiritual wave reverberated throughout the hall: "Someone come here."

The temple doors opened silently, and a bishop in a scarlet robe bowed as he entered: "What are your orders, Your Majesty?" His voice was respectful and restrained, and his head remained bowed, not daring to raise it.

"Pass down the order," Bibi Dong slowly rose, her magnificent papal robes shimmering with a purple-gold light as she moved, dazzling in the morning glow. "Prepare a generous gift to congratulate the new emperor of Tian Dou on his ascension to the throne." She deliberately paused slightly on the words "new emperor."

The cardinal bowed deeply: "As the Pope commands." He backed out of the basilica, the heavy doors closing silently behind him.

Inside the empty Papal Palace, Bibi Dong stood alone in the glow cast by the stained-glass windows. Her slender fingers unconsciously caressed the gem at the top of her scepter, a complex smile playing on her lips: "Finally... we've reached this point." Her voice was as soft as a sigh, yet it contained untold depths of meaning.

Bibi Dong sat on the gilded papal throne, and suddenly nine dazzling soul rings appeared around her—yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black, black, red! The moment that bewitching blood-red 100,000-year soul ring appeared, the air in the entire hall seemed to freeze.

“It seems,” she slowly rose, her papal robes fluttering even without wind, “that I should quicken my pace as well.” Her voice carried an undeniable determination.

As the last word fell, her figure transformed into a streak of purple-gold light, hurtling towards the rear hall. The echo of the scepter striking the ground lingered in the hall, leaving only a wisp of lingering oppressive aura from the throne. (End of Chapter)