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

Chapter 64 Heart knot
The sound of their footsteps echoed softly within the hall, the towering dome casting a solemn shadow. As they crossed the final threshold, a majestic six-winged angel statue came into view, its holy light shimmering in the candlelight. Before the statue, a tall, slender figure stood silently.

With Qian Daoliu's back to the palace gate, Qian Renxue's steps unconsciously slowed down, and Feng Yao could feel the tension emanating from her fingertips.

"You've arrived?" A voice suddenly rang out, so calm it betrayed no emotion. He slowly turned around, his golden gaze lingering for a moment on their clasped hands. The hall fell eerily silent; even the crackling of the burning candles was clearly audible.

Qian Renxue took a deep breath and took Feng Yao's hand, taking a step forward. Her high heels clicked crisply on the ground, each step like stepping on taut strings. Feng Yao felt the fine beads of sweat on her palms and subtly tightened his grip on her hand.

The two stopped tacitly ten paces away from the figure. This distance maintained a respectful stance without appearing too distant.

Qian Renxue took a deep breath, her fingertips gently sliding from Feng Yao's palm. She lifted her skirt, her right knee slowly touching the ground, performing a standard greeting to the Spirit Hall. Upon seeing this, Feng Yao immediately followed suit, kneeling on one knee. Although his movements were not as elegant and skillful as Qian Renxue's, they were still dignified and proper.

Just as their knees were about to touch the ground, a golden light suddenly flashed. Qian Daoliu's figure teleported in front of them like a ghost, and with a gentle flick of his wide sleeves, a soft yet irresistible soul force steadily supported the two of them.

"No need for such formalities."

His voice remained calm, but Feng Yao keenly sensed that the soul force supporting them softened noticeably when it touched them. Qian Daoliu's gaze lingered on his granddaughter for a moment before turning back to Feng Yao.

Qian Daoliu's gaze fell upon Feng Yao with an almost tangible intensity, the pressure of a level 99 Peerless Douluo causing the air to freeze. Suddenly, his deep eyes narrowed slightly—under his extremely strong perception, he sensed that Feng Yao and Qian Renxue were entwined with strands of faith-based connections, the kind of connections that only the highest-level "Holy Oath" of the Angel race could create.

Qian Daoliu's fingers trembled slightly behind his back, golden soul power flowing between his fingertips. He gazed at the faint bond between the two, his heart filled with complex emotions. Once this oath was made, it meant sharing life and death, something even his grandfather could not interfere with.

Qian Renxue lowered her head slightly, her golden hair slipping down her shoulders and obscuring her flushed cheeks. "Grandpa," she said softly, with a hint of unusual nervousness in her voice, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the gold thread embroidery on her sleeve—a small gesture she made when she felt guilty.

Qian Daoliu's gaze lingered on his granddaughter for a moment, a knowing glint in his eyes. His usually imposing golden eyes now softened with tenderness; how could he not see that the oath formed by the power of faith was merely...
"A vow, huh? That child, Xiaoxue... sigh." Qian Daoliu thought to himself.

Feng Yao stepped forward at the opportune moment and respectfully performed a junior's bow: "Greetings, Senior."

Qian Daoliu sighed inwardly, a barely perceptible softening appearing on his stern face. He withdrew his probing soul power, and when he spoke again, his voice held a gentler quality characteristic of an elder: "Get up, child." These words were addressed not only to Feng Yao, but also to Qian Renxue, who was still bowing her head.

Qian Daoliu's deep gaze lingered on Feng Yao for a moment, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes.

"To be able to manipulate the power of heaven and earth at such a young age." Qian Daoliu's voice, deep and resonant like a bell, echoed throughout the hall. "Even I, back then, might not have possessed such skill."

Feng Yao lowered his head humbly, but a hint of hesitation slipped through his fingers. He glanced at Qian Renxue out of the corner of his eye and saw her nervously clutching the hem of her skirt before carefully speaking, "Senior is too kind." Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly felt a gentle yet irresistible soul force sweep over him.

Qian Daoliu's deep gaze seemed to pierce through people's hearts as he slowly said, "Are you wondering why I didn't make a move today?"

Feng Yao's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately bowed respectfully. His lowered eyelashes concealed the thoughts in his eyes, but his voice remained steady: "This junior dares not presume to speculate. Senior's actions have their own profound meaning."

Qian Daoliu suddenly let out a meaningful chuckle, his golden eyes flashing with worldly wisdom: "I am old. Since I have long since relinquished power, these disturbances should be a trial for you young people." His gaze passed over the palace gates, looking towards the direction of the Papal Palace. "If this old man were to rashly intervene, it would only arouse Bibi Dong's suspicions."

"She has her own sense of propriety and considerations to secure her position as Pope." He turned to Feng Yao, a glint of light flashing in his eyes. "If she couldn't even control a situation like this, she wouldn't deserve the papal scepter."

Feng Yao cupped his hands and chuckled, his tone sincere without being obsequious: "Senior is well-versed in the principle of 'not meddling in affairs outside one's jurisdiction,' and this magnanimity is truly admirable." His gaze was clear as he spoke, maintaining both the respect of a junior and the integrity of a Soul Master.

"Hmph." Qian Renxue couldn't help but let out a soft snort, her golden eyes glancing sideways, her gaze carrying a hint of reproach and a touch of amusement. Clearly, Qian Renxue was quite satisfied with Feng Yao's performance.

Qian Daoliu took in his granddaughter's subtle actions, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Well said, 'If you're not in a position, don't meddle.' You certainly know how to talk."

Qian Daoliu's eyes gleamed, his tone carrying a mixture of admiration and teasing. His deep gaze, as if it were tangible, fell upon Feng Yao: "What is your opinion of Bibi Dong?"

This simple question caused the air to suddenly tighten. Feng Yao's breath hitched, and he subconsciously glanced at Qian Renxue beside him—the gentle light in the girl's eyes had faded, replaced by a chilling coldness that made one's heart pound.

Feng Yao took a deep breath, his hands quietly clenching in his sleeves. He bowed slightly, his voice steady and restrained: "This junior dares not speak ill of His Holiness the Pope."

Qian Daoliu's eyes shone brightly: "Speak freely. This question concerns your future with Xiaoxue." Each word seemed to weigh a ton, echoing in the empty hall.

Feng Yao caught a glimpse of Qian Renxue's tense profile out of the corner of his eye; her knuckles were clenched so tightly they were white. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly said, "Your Holiness the Pope's ascension to the pinnacle is naturally due to the unwavering support of the entire Spirit Hall." He paused subtly on the word "support," adding, "This junior can only express my utmost respect for Your Holiness's extraordinary talent and ambition."

As soon as he finished speaking, he keenly sensed that Qian Renxue's fierce intent intensified, while a barely perceptible hint of satisfaction flashed in Qian Daoliu's eyes.

Feng Yao keenly sensed the subtle shift in the atmosphere within the hall—when Qian Daoliu mentioned Bibi Dong, no trace of hatred appeared on his usually calm face; instead, an indescribable complexity emanated from him. His gaze was deep and unfathomable, as if piercing through time to look at some unknown past.

However, when his gaze turned to Qian Renxue, his heart suddenly tightened. A near-tangible obsession surged within the girl's golden eyes.

Feng Yao suddenly realized that there was such a huge gap between the attitudes of the grandfather and granddaughter towards Bibi Dong. In Qian Daoliu's eyes was a sense of relief after experiencing vicissitudes, while in Qian Renxue's eyes burned an obsession that had accumulated over the years.

Qian Daoliu's expression suddenly turned serious, and a captivating glint flashed in his golden eyes: "But do you know that Xiaoxue still refuses to acknowledge her as her mother?"

Feng Yao felt an immense pressure of soul power bearing down on him, yet he maintained a respectful yet neither servile nor arrogant demeanor: "I know a little."

Qian Daoliu suddenly took a step forward, his aura as a level 99 Peerless Douluo causing the air in the hall to freeze: "Since you know Xiaoxue's inner turmoil," Qian Daoliu's voice suddenly rose, "why don't you firmly stand on her side?"

The question was extremely calm, yet an invisible aura spread throughout the area. Qian Renxue slightly regained her senses and saw that Feng Yao was still standing straight despite such pressure, although the cold sweat on his forehead betrayed the pressure he was under.

Feng Yao took a deep breath, his gaze shifting between Qian Renxue and Qian Daoliu. He noticed a complex light flash in Qian Renxue's eyes, while Qian Daoliu's calm eyes held a deeper level of expectation.

Feng Yao's voice was soft, yet carried an undeniable firmness: "I believe that His Holiness the Pope and Xue'er are simply lacking an opportunity for mutual understanding." He met Qian Daoliu's sharp gaze directly, without flinching, "The bond of blood will eventually overcome any temporary estrangement." Before Feng Yao finished speaking, Qian Renxue trembled upon hearing this, her golden eyes flashing violently, and she abruptly looked up.

"Impossible!" Her voice trembled violently like never before, as if years of suppressed emotions had finally burst forth. "Feng Yao, listen to me—" Her slender white fingers gripped the lapel of her dress tightly. "In this world, I only have one family member, and that is my grandfather!"

As the last word fell, a crystal tear slid down her porcelain-white cheek, splashing onto the temple floor tiles and creating a tiny halo of light. Before Feng Yao could react, she had already transformed into a golden streak of light and rushed out of the temple.

"Xue'er!"

Qian Daoliu's deep gaze followed the departing golden streak, and an indescribable complex expression appeared on his usually calm face.

"Why"

This sigh seemed to travel through the long years, carrying the regret and sorrow that could not be resolved over the past twenty years.

"This child," Qian Daoliu's voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, the echo fading into the empty hall, carrying with it endless pity and helplessness.

Feng Yao bowed solemnly to Qian Daoliu, his eyes shining with determination: "Senior, rest assured, I understand your good intentions." As he straightened up, he said earnestly, "I will find a way to resolve the conflict between them."

Before he finished speaking, his figure had already swept out of the hall like a gentle breeze. The moment he stepped out the threshold, Feng Yao suddenly turned around and met Qian Daoliu's expectant gaze.

"This junior takes his leave."

Feng Yao's voice echoed in the hall, and Feng Yao's figure had already transformed into a streak of light, rushing away following Qian Renxue's figure.

Qian Daoliu gazed in the direction the two had departed. The angel statue flickered subtly, as if foreshadowing some kind of turning point.

Qian Daoliu stood silently in the center of the temple, his deep gaze fixed on the direction where Feng Yao had disappeared. A wave of relief washed over the old man's golden eyes, and a long-lost smile unconsciously appeared on his lips. He slowly turned, gazing up at the majestic angel statue, its solemn face seemingly coming to life in the candlelight.

Qian Daoliu's voice echoed softly in the empty hall, "Perhaps... this child can truly guide Xiaoxue to find..."

The words suddenly stopped, and Qian Daoliu looked up at the outstretched wings of the statue.

"The warmth of an angel's heart."

The last two words were almost inaudible. Qian Daoliu slowly closed his eyes, his lips moved slightly, and he began to pray devoutly.

The moment Feng Yao stepped out of the palace gate, the cool moonlight poured down. He looked up and saw Qian Renxue standing alone before the white jade railing. The bright moonlight gilded her with a silvery glow, yet it only made her figure appear more lonely. A night breeze swept by, and her long golden hair danced like flowing water, yet it exuded an indescribable sense of desolation.

"Xue'er."

Feng Yao called softly, his voice carried on the night breeze. He saw Qian Renxue's shoulders tremble almost imperceptibly, but she did not turn around. In the moonlight, a crystal tear slid down her delicate jawline, landing on the white marble railing and shattering into countless tiny specks of light.

Feng Yao's lips curved into a gentle smile as he tiptoed closer. Under the moonlight, Qian Renxue turned away in a huff, her long golden hair tracing a graceful arc in the air, the ends still glistening with undried tears. She crossed her arms, casting a trembling shadow in the moonlight, looking every bit like a wronged young wife.

"Still angry?" Feng Yao tilted his head, deliberately looking down at her lowered profile. From this angle, he could see her slightly puffed cheeks and reddened eyes, with tiny teardrops still clinging to her long eyelashes, like scattered diamonds in the moonlight.

Qian Renxue took another half step to the side, her hem brushing against the ground with a soft rustling sound. Feng Yao, however, followed relentlessly, taking a silk handkerchief from his bosom.

“Here, wipe yourself.” He deliberately waved the silk handkerchief in front of her eyes.

"Who wants you?" she was about to retort when a tear involuntarily fell. Taking advantage of the moment, Feng Yao gently wiped away the tear stain from the corner of her eye with a silk handkerchief, his movements as tender as if he were handling some fragile treasure.

“I know you’re suffering,” he said softly, but each word was clear. “But don’t you want to know the real reason behind it all? If you truly knew everything, I would stand by you no matter what choice you make.”

The night breeze suddenly became gentle, carrying a few leaves that fell between the two of them.

"Feng Yao." Her voice was choked with emotion as she slowly turned around. In the moonlight, her usually proud golden eyes were now filled with unspeakable grievances and vulnerability.

Feng Yao slowly opened his arms, his movements as gentle as if he were handling a rare treasure. When his fingertips touched Qian Renxue's slightly trembling shoulder, he sensed her instinctive urge to back away, but she stopped at the last moment.

"It's alright." His deep voice was like a warm breeze, gently brushing past her ear.

Qian Renxue's stiff body gradually softened, and she finally leaned against his chest. Feng Yao gently stroked her cascading golden hair with one hand, while the other hand slowly drew soothing circles on her back. The warmth of his palm seeped through her thin palace dress, gradually relaxing her tense nerves.

“It’s all in the past.” Feng Yao gently rested his chin on the top of her head, smelling a faint fragrance. He could feel the girl in his arms sobbing silently, her warm tears soaking his clothes.

Under the moonlight, the shadows of the two intertwined on the ground to form a complete circle.

"Cry it out, it's just me here." He whispered in her ear, his voice as gentle as if afraid to disturb the night butterflies perched on the roses.

Qian Renxue finally let down her guard, clutching his clothes tightly and burying her face in the crook of his neck. Years of suppressed tears finally found an outlet. Feng Yao held her quietly, letting her tears soak his clothes, his movements gentle yet firm.

(End of this chapter)