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

Dugu Yan's lips curled into a playful smile, her fingertips twirling strands of blue-gold hair as she gently brushed against Feng Yao's hand. "Oh~" she drawled, her voice as sweet as honey, "Our little sweetheart has finally arrived."

Ye Lingling covered her mouth and chuckled upon hearing this. Her long eyelashes trembled slightly as she said gently, "Yanyan, don't frighten Rongrong."

Ning Rongrong's ears immediately turned crimson: "Who, who is his little lover!" She stomped her foot, and her skirt bloomed like flower petals.

Ye Lingling gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She gracefully took Dugu Yan's arm and said softly, "Yan Yan, it's getting late. Why don't we rest at my residence for a while?"

Before she finished speaking, she tapped her fingertip lightly, a gesture that carried a reassuring tone. Dugu Yan blinked knowingly. "Alright~" she deliberately drawled, casting a meaningful glance at Ning Rongrong. "Some people probably have 'important matters' to discuss."

Upon hearing this, Feng Yao quickly nodded and smiled apologetically, but a few beads of cold sweat involuntarily seeped from his forehead. Since the dust had settled at Tiandou Palace, he should have personally visited her. It wasn't that he had any issues with Ning Rongrong, but rather that he had simply been too busy these past few days.

Dugu Yan lightly touched Ye Lingling's brow with her slender finger, and said reproachfully, "You..." She shook her head and sighed, "You always spoil him with this habit."

As she turned, her skirt billowed in a graceful arc: "Remember—what you promised us."

Feng Yao felt as if he had been granted a pardon and promised, "I'll take you to see Xue'er as soon as we get back." His voice unconsciously rose a few decibels.

Dugu Yan then took Ye Lingling's arm with satisfaction. As the two left, they took Xiao Wu from Feng Yao's arms with them.

Feng Yao watched as Dugu Yan and Ye Lingling disappeared around the street corner, their silhouettes intertwining in the setting sun to create a fading scene. Only then did he turn his gaze to Ning Rongrong, who stood quietly to the side, only to find the girl unconsciously rubbing her fingertips, her glassy eyes shimmering with a faint light.

"I'm sorry," Ning Rongrong's voice was as soft as a falling begonia petal, "I'm sorry to have disturbed you." Her fingertips unconsciously rubbed together more frequently, and her glassy eyes dimmed slightly.

Feng Yao shook his head, his voice softening unconsciously: "It was just a coincidence. Actually, I should have gone to the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School to pay my respects." He suddenly stopped halfway through his sentence, his brow furrowing slightly, as if he realized that the word "visit" carried a sense of distance.

Feng Yao looked at Ning Rongrong in front of him and said gently, "It was only right that I went to see you."

Ning Rongrong raised her eyes, the reflected light casting dappled shadows on her eyelashes: "You—" her voice was so soft it was almost drowned out by the street's clamor, "...do you like me?"

Feng Yao's pupils contracted slightly. The expectation and unease flickering in the girl's eyes made him unsure of how to speak.

A political marriage. These four words rolled through his mind, but he ultimately didn't utter them. He noticed Ning Rongrong unconsciously clenching the hem of her skirt.

Feng Yao looked at Ning Rongrong with a complicated expression in his eyes. In essence, his marriage to Ning Rongrong was a political alliance, so it was impossible to say whether he liked her or not. However, he obviously could not give Ning Rongrong the answer directly.

Feng Yao gazed at the deepening twilight on the horizon, his voice as gentle as the evening breeze: "I can't say for sure, perhaps the future will provide the answer. But what I am certain of is that we are indeed connected by fate."

“Fate?” Ning Rongrong murmured, her glassy eyes reflecting a halo that flickered in the night. “Does it really exist?” Her voice drifted in the evening breeze, like a firefly that might vanish at any moment.

Feng Yao's deep eyes reflected the starlight as his fingertips gently touched Ning Rongrong's shoulder. "The human heart is a complex thing," he said, his voice steady and firm. "I am not a god, I cannot control everything, just like—" A slight tremor ran through his fingertips from the girl, "...you standing before me right now are the truest proof."

A bitter smile curved Ning Rongrong's lips, her skirt twitching nervously in her palm. "Me?" A glimmer of light appeared in her glassy eyes. "Besides obeying Father's arrangements, what else can I do?"

"The choice is always yours," he said in a low but firm voice. "If you don't want to, no one can force you."

Ning Rongrong looked up, stunned, and saw the starlight shimmering in his eyes: "Do you know what the most mysterious power in this world is?"

The girl shook her head blankly, the glass beaded hairpin in her hair swaying gently in the moonlight. Suddenly, a point of blue-gold light shone from Feng Yao's fingertips, illuminating the small space between them:

“It’s time,” he whispered. “It can turn the unfamiliar into the familiar, resistance into acceptance, and make the impossible possible.” His gaze fell on her slightly trembling eyelashes.

Feng Yao's voice flowed quietly through the night like a gentle stream: "Time is the most magical thing. Everyone's path ahead is paved with unknown possibilities. The current predicament is nothing more than a ripple in the long river of time."

The girl looked up, the moonlight gilding her delicate features with a silvery edge: "You mean..."

“What seems like an unsolvable problem today,” Feng Yao gently held her slightly cool hand, “maybe in your eyes tomorrow it will just be a small test.”

Upon hearing this, a glimmer of light seemed to appear in Ning Rongrong's eyes, and a complex expression flashed across her face as she looked at Feng Yao.

Feng Yao gazed at the brightly lit streets of Tiandou City, took Ning Rongrong's hand, and smiled gently. "Let's go, I'll show you around. You haven't really enjoyed the liveliness of this market in a long time, have you?"

A flicker of excitement flashed in Ning Rongrong's eyes, but she deliberately turned her head away. Feeling Feng Yao's warm, slender hand, she couldn't help but blush. "Hmph, since you've invited me so sincerely," she suddenly stood on tiptoe, her skirt blooming like flower petals, "this young lady will reluctantly accompany you for a walk."

Before she finished speaking, she broke free from Feng Yao's grasp and gracefully leaped into the crowd like a butterfly, the iridescent light refracted by her glass hairpin swirling under the streetlights. Feng Yao shook his head and chuckled, watching the cheerful figure linger at the sugar painting stall and the lantern shop, the hairpin in her hair jingling with each jump.

Seeing Ning Rongrong bouncing around and regaining her usual energy, Feng Yao shook his head and followed her, looking at her petite figure.

With her worries gone, Ning Rongrong finally regained her usual lively and cheerful self. She darted through the streets like a cheerful lark, sometimes stopping at a sugar figurine stall to watch the master craftsman's skillful hands, and sometimes trying on beaded flowers in a jewelry shop.

However, as the streetlights thinned out and the vendors began packing up their goods, Ning Rongrong's pace involuntarily slowed down. She stood in front of the last sugar painting stall, watching the master craftsman extinguish the fire in his kiln, a hint of reluctance in her eyes.

"It's time to go back," Feng Yao said softly, already standing behind her without her noticing.

As Ning Rongrong boarded the carriage, she glanced back at the gradually quieting streets. Feng Yao gently draped an outer robe over her shoulders, and amidst the sound of the wheels rolling over the bluestone slabs, the iconic glazed pagoda spire of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School was already faintly visible.

Inside the carriage, Ning Rongrong sat by the window, the bright moonlight casting dappled shadows on her delicate profile through the gauze curtains. She pretended to be focused on gazing at the starry sky, but her glassy eyes kept wandering unconsciously—sometimes using the excuse of admiring the night view to secretly glance at Feng Yao, who was resting with his eyes closed opposite her; sometimes, in the moments when the carriage jolted, she would pretend to casually sweep her gaze over his sharply defined features.

At these moments, a sweet smile, unnoticed even by herself, would appear on the corners of the girl's lips. Ning Rongrong leaned gently against the soft brocade cushions of the carriage, suddenly realizing that she was more relaxed than ever before. The sight of Feng Yao sitting quietly opposite her, eyes closed in meditation, unconsciously made her compare him to Oscar.

Unlike the always cautious young man, Feng Yao possessed a reassuring composure. She didn't need to constantly consider her words, worry about unintentionally hurting the other person's fragile self-esteem, or bear the heavy burden of the identity of "the eldest daughter of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School." Here, she could simply be Ning Rongrong.

The girl's fingertips unconsciously rubbed together. It wasn't that she couldn't accept making sacrifices for love, but when she was trying to overcome the shackles of her sect, the other person let go first—this feeling of being abandoned was far more disheartening than any obstacle.

"We've arrived." Feng Yao's voice, like a gentle breeze, roused Ning Rongrong from her thoughts.

Feng Yao's gentle voice interrupted her thoughts. Ning Rongrong then realized that the carriage had stopped in front of the iconic glazed tile gate of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School. Under the moonlight, the colorful glazed tiles shimmered with a hazy glow, both familiar and strange.

Ning Rongrong nodded slightly. Just as Feng Yao helped her step down from the carriage, the space in front of them suddenly rippled like water.

“Crack—”

The void shattered like a mirror, and Gu Rong's towering figure stepped out from the spatial rift. Moonlight streamed across his bone-white armor.

Ning Rongrong's eyes lit up, and she lifted her skirt and ran towards the ancient banyan tree: "Grandpa Gu~" The hairpins in her hair jingled with her joyful steps.

Gu Rong's gaze swept over Feng Yao with a hint of surprise. But then he looked down at his granddaughter who had rushed into his arms, and even his stark white bone armor softened a little: "So happy?" His thin fingers gently ruffled the top of her head, and his voice was full of doting affection.

Feng Yao stepped forward and bowed respectfully: "Greetings, Senior."

"Hmm." Gu Rong nodded slightly. "Rongrong hasn't been this happy in a long time." He gave Feng Yao a meaningful look, then noticed his granddaughter's reddened ears. "Thank you for bringing her back."

Ning Rongrong buried her face in the bone armor of the ancient banyan tree and blushed, but she didn't say anything.

Feng Yao smiled gently and cupped his hands, saying, "I happened to run into Rongrong in the market. To be honest, I should have paid her a visit sooner, but recently..." He tapped his finger lightly, "...there are still many matters to be dealt with following the palace coup."

Gu Rong nodded slightly in understanding. Just then, Feng Yao flipped his wrist and took out a brocade box carved from cold jade from his soul tool. The moment the lid opened, a jet-black immortal herb appeared, its golden fruit at the top emitting a soft, pulsating glow.

Feng Yao handed the brocade box to Ning Rongrong, "This is..." Ning Rongrong's glass-like eyes widened slightly.

Feng Yao gently stroked the peculiar immortal herb in the brocade box with his fingertips, and the golden fruit on the dark branches rippled with light: "This item may help Rongrong break through the shackles of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda." Although his voice was soft, it made Gu Rong's eyes suddenly narrow.

"Really?!" The titled Douluo's voice trembled unusually. "Such a wondrous object exists in the world?"

Feng Yao recalled slowly, "Although I dare not say it will be 100% successful, after consuming the immortal medicine back then, I not only gained immunity to ice and fire, but my martial soul also..."

Gu Rong suddenly grabbed Feng Yao's wrist with her bony fingers and hurriedly said, "Kid, are you sure there's no risk?" Her voice was filled with unconcealed worry.

“Xue’er, Yan Yan, Ling Ling.” Feng Yao said each name, “They have all been safely absorbed.” He looked at Ning Rongrong, his voice softening: “How could I risk Rongrong?”

Gu Rong's eyes darted around nervously, and his bone armor emitted a soft "clicking" sound: "What specific abilities did they acquire? Has their martial soul undergone a substantial transformation?" He realized his slip of the tongue as soon as the words left his mouth and quickly added, "It's not that I don't trust you, it's just..."

He gently stroked Ning Rongrong's hair with his bony fingers, his voice deepening: "This concerns the century-old heritage of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, and I must proceed with utmost caution."

Feng Yao was not offended: "Senior's concerns are very valid. However, I cannot be certain. The effects of immortal-grade items vary from person to person. Even if the martial soul fails to evolve, the improvement in soul power and physique will still be..."

Gu Rong gazed at Feng Yao, finally nodding slowly. Ning Rongrong seized the opportunity to take the brocade box, winking playfully and letting out a soft hum, "Grandpa Gu, I doubt he'd dare lie to you~"

Feng Yao looked up at the darkening sky, then bowed respectfully, saying, "It's getting late, so I won't bother you any longer. I look forward to our next meeting, when Rongrong's Seven Treasure Glazed Pagoda will have broken through its shackles."

The ancient banyan tree nodded in acknowledgment: "Go."

"Farewell." Feng Yao's figure flickered, his soul power blooming at his toes, and in an instant he transformed into a streak of light in the night.

As soon as Feng Yao's figure disappeared, Gu Rong grabbed Ning Rongrong's wrist, his voice filled with barely concealed urgency: "Quick! Come with Grandpa to see your father and the Dead Sword Man!" His withered, bony fingers were trembling slightly.

Ning Rongrong looked down at the brocade box in her arms. She knew better than anyone that this immortal herb might change the fate of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School for a thousand years. The girl pursed her lips, and finally, under the urging gaze of the ancient banyan tree, she slowly nodded.

The night was as dark as ink. Feng Yao's figure darted between the eaves, his soul power flowing at his toes. Each step he took stirred up subtle blue-gold ripples on the green tiles. The myriad lights of Tian Dou City formed a flowing galaxy beneath his feet, and his destination was clear and unambiguous—the Ye residence.

When the sole of his boot lightly touched the white jade bricks of the Ye family courtyard, it startled Ye Lingling, who was enjoying her tea.

Seeing Feng Yao leap out from behind the high wall, Ye Lingling put down her teacup and said helplessly, "So soon?"

Before Feng Yao could speak, Dugu Yan emerged from the corridor: "What, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School didn't offer you a place to stay overnight?"

Feng Yao chuckled softly upon hearing this, and with a swift movement, he pulled Dugu Yan into his arms. He lightly patted her slender waist, causing the young woman's body to tremble slightly: "Yan Yan is still here waiting for me, how could I not come back?"

"You!" Dugu Yan blushed from the tips of her ears to her neck. The usually sharp-tongued little poison girl now huddled in his arms like a quail—after all, she was an inexperienced young lady.

Seeing this, Ye Lingling blushed and remained silent. As she stood up, her skirt brushed against Feng Yao's knees, leaving a lingering fragrance: "You two... talk first." Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, and her departing figure seemed to be tinged with the glow of the setting sun.

(End of this chapter)