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

Chapter 70 Hero saves beauty
Feng Yao's hands gradually became restless, his fingertips seemingly caressing Qian Renxue's slender waist. The warm touch transmitted through the thin fabric, causing Qian Renxue to catch her breath.

Her golden eyes glistened with tears, and her jade-like cheeks were already flushed crimson. Feeling the mischievous hand growing increasingly audacious, she finally pushed it away in a fit of shame and anger.

Feng Yao staggered back two steps after being pushed, but his smile grew even brighter. Under the moonlight, Qian Renxue blushed as she straightened her disheveled clothes. The phantom of a six-winged angel fluttered uneasily behind her, but it couldn't hide her rapid breathing.

"I think you just want to be kicked out again." She glared at Feng Yao, forcing herself to remain calm, and a wisp of holy light gathered at her fingertips.
But her flushed earlobes and slightly trembling voice rendered the threat utterly ineffective. Feng Yao wisely raised her hands in surrender, her eyes brimming with a triumphant smile. A night breeze ruffled her golden hair, but it couldn't dispel the enchanting atmosphere.

Qian Renxue calmed herself slightly and made a move to send a message: "I will immediately inform the palace to have them find a suitable candidate."

“No rush.” Feng Yao gently pressed her wrist and said softly, “This is the most delicate time in their relationship.” A thoughtful look flashed in his eyes. “Given Oscar’s personality, he probably won’t stay in Tiandou City any longer. If a woman suddenly appears and deliberately tries to get close to him, it might easily arouse Ning Fengzhi’s suspicion.”

Qian Renxue frowned slightly upon hearing this, a hint of surprise flashing in her golden eyes: "You think he will leave Tian Dou?" She looked thoughtfully in the direction of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, "A support-type Soul Master alone out there?"

Feng Yao nodded gently, his fingertips unconsciously playing with the ends of her hair. "It's precisely because he's a smart man that he chose to leave." A complex emotion flickered in his eyes. "Sometimes, a temporary separation is for a better reunion."

A hint of reminiscence flashed in Feng Yao's eyes as he softly said, "When I first arrived in Tiandou City, Xue'er, do you know what my deepest feelings were?"

Qian Renxue looked at him with a puzzled expression, her golden eyes reflecting the moonlight.

"This incomparably prosperous imperial city shouldn't be a place for me." Feng Yao's fingertips lightly traced the vines on the courtyard wall. "If it weren't for Manager Ning's letter of recommendation from Feng Yuexuan, I probably would have left long ago." He turned to look at Qian Renxue, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I remember telling Madam Yuehua—even if I come from humble origins, I understand that in Tiandou City, proper manners are often more important than the number of soul rings. On the chessboard of the nobility, pieces that don't understand the rules are destined to be eliminated."

Qian Renxue nodded slightly. Twenty years of undercover work had given her a deep understanding of the subject. When she first entered Tiandou, she also learned the most basic aristocratic etiquette so that she could portray Xue Qinghe flawlessly.

“However,” Feng Yao changed the subject, “even if Oscar, that support-type Soul Master, leaves Heaven Dou, Ning Fengzhi will definitely send someone to keep an eye on him secretly.” A sly glint flashed in his eyes, “But that’s exactly the effect we want, isn’t it?”

A sharp glint flashed in Feng Yao's eyes. The Soul Saint who "generously" gave up his soul bone in the original work was already full of doubts. You must know that it was a soul beast that could become Oscar's sixth soul ring. According to the best ratio, it was at least a top-quality one that was over 20,000 years old.

Indeed, such a soul bone is a treasure to any soul master. How could a support-type soul master possibly be assigned one in a team?
Feng Yao didn't believe that Oscar's personal charisma was so great that a Soul Saint would be willing to give up a top-grade soul bone.
Qian Renxue's eyes flashed upon hearing this, her golden pupils slightly contracting: "You mean you want to send someone to attack Ning Fengzhi's spy, and then have that woman 'coincidentally' save Oscar?"

Feng Yao's lips curled into a playful smile: "The reason the 'hero saves the damsel in distress' trope is so cliché..." He lightly stroked his chin with his fingertips, "is precisely because it's so incredibly effective. The more people use it, the more cliché it becomes."

Under the moonlight, the two smiled at each other. However, a sharp glint flashed in Qian Renxue's beautiful eyes: "Since that's the case, then this act must be performed as realistically as possible."

Feng Yao nodded knowingly: "To make him completely believe it, the weight of this life-saving grace must be substantial."

"Then what should be done about Ning Rongrong?" Qian Renxue tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes sparkling with inquiry in the moonlight.

Feng Yao gently shook his head, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the jade pendant at his waist: "There's no need to do it deliberately. If we intervene rashly, it will only arouse Ning Fengzhi's suspicion." A sly glint flashed in his eyes, "Once Oscar leaves, Ning Rongrong will naturally be devastated. After a while, the two will lose contact."

“That old fox Ning Fengzhi will naturally come knocking on our door.” Qian Renxue took over the conversation, a knowing smile curving her lips.

She suddenly reached out and pinched Feng Yao's cheek, a hint of mockery in her eyes: "Now I really wonder, back when you were playing the zither all day at the academy," her fingertips tightening slightly, "was your mind filled with all these scheming schemes?"

Feng Yao seized her wrist and pulled her into his arms: "How could that be?" He whispered in her ear, "At that time, I was thinking about..." Before he could finish speaking, Qian Renxue pushed him away with an elbow strike.

Upon hearing this, Feng Yao couldn't help but chuckle, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes. He couldn't very well admit that he had read Douluo Continent.

"I don't believe your sweet talk." Qian Renxue blushed as she straightened her disheveled sleeves, but couldn't hide the smile on her lips.

Feng Yao raised his right hand, making a solemn vow: "Heaven and earth bear witness, when I was cultivating at the academy, I looked forward to seeing Xue'er every day." His eyes were full of smiles, but his tone was exceptionally sincere.

Qian Renxue gave a light snort, her beautiful golden eyes glancing at him sideways: "I think you're just thinking about the cultivation speed we had together, aren't you?" She lightly tapped Feng Yao's chest with her slender finger, "And... my true form?"

Feng Yao seized her mischievous fingers and shamelessly laughed, "Isn't that also because I'm thinking of you?" His voice lowered slightly, feigning grievance, "If it weren't for my Xue'er, why would I bother scheming against others?"

Qian Renxue pouted, her golden eyes full of reproach: "I see you always pretending to be so serious, where is there even a trace of a fourteen-year-old boy? And now, you're blaming it all on me." She poked Feng Yao's chest with her slender finger, her tone carrying a hint of coquettishness that she herself didn't realize.

Feng Yao grasped her fidgeting fingers, his smile deepening. "Now, Xue'er and I are bound together by life and death." He gently stroked her fingertips. "Having entered this game, how could I, Feng Yao, be the one to suffer?"

"Stop being so glib!" Qian Renxue pulled her hand back, her skirt fluttering as she turned around. "Hurry up and cultivate, you've already wasted so much time." Her back was to Feng Yao, her silhouette stretching out in the moonlight, but it couldn't hide the slightly reddened tips of her ears.

Under the moonlight, their shadows intertwined. Feng Yao lowered his head and whispered in her ear, "Besides," his warm breath brushing against her sensitive earlobe, "scheming against others is never as interesting as scheming against our young master."

"Feng Yao!" Qian Renxue summoned the Angelic Holy Sword in embarrassment and anger, but her momentum involuntarily weakened when she met his smiling eyes. This scoundrel could always easily break down all her defenses.

The soul power within the training ground began to flow slowly, intertwining blue and gold. Qian Renxue closed her eyes and concentrated, but for some reason, she felt that tonight's training was more unsettling than usual.

Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School. Ning Rongrong has been back at the sect for three days. The girl's slender fingers unconsciously caressed the glazed decorations on the window frame, her once bright eyes now dull and lifeless. She gazed at the disciples coming and going within the sect, but still couldn't find that familiar figure.

"How should I tell him?" Ning Rongrong murmured softly, her fingertips tracing a faint line on the windowsill. The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School's rules were like an invisible shackle, leaving her unsure how to broach the subject with Oscar.

In the meeting hall.

Ning Fengzhi was bent over his desk reviewing official documents, the quill pen in his hand shimmering with iridescent light under the lamp. Hearing footsteps, he slowly looked up, his gentle voice tinged with weariness: "How has Miss been lately?"

The disciple standing at attention hesitated for a moment, then whispered, "Reporting to the Sect Master, Miss has remained secluded in her chambers for three days without venturing out." He carefully observed the Sect Master's expression. "She merely leans against the window, gazing into the distance, as if pondering some important matter."

Ning Fengzhi paused slightly, a hint of heartache flickering in his eyes. As a father, how could he not know his daughter's thoughts? Her increasingly thin figure, her absent-minded appearance—all stemmed from her worry for that young Soul Master.

Ning Fengzhi lightly tapped the table with his fingertips: "How's the Oscars going these days?"

The disciple bowed and reported, "Sect Master, that food-type Soul Master spends almost every day in the sect's simulated training grounds." He paused, then added, "From dawn till dusk, he cultivates extremely diligently. Sometimes, even the elders have to urge him on before he'll take a short break."

Upon hearing his disciple's report on Oscar's recent cultivation progress, Ning Fengzhi looked out the window, a complex emotion flashing in his deep eyes.

"I'm about to break through to the Soul Master level at sixteen," he murmured to himself, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the scepter in his hand. As a food-type Soul Master, such a cultivation speed was already extremely rare; it would be hard to find a second person like him across the entire continent.

But then, a bitter feeling welled up in his heart. Ning Fengzhi slowly walked to the window, gazing at the brightly lit simulated training ground in the distance. Even with exceptional talent, what good was it? A support-type Soul Master was still just a support-type Soul Master. In this dog-eat-dog world of Soul Masters, without the protection of Battle Soul Masters, how could a support-type Soul Master alone uphold the prestige of being the number one support sect in the world?
Moonlight shone on his slightly weary face, revealing the deep worry between his brows. The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School has been passed down to this day not because of simple support abilities, but because of the powerful protection brought by the continuous cultivation and absorption of battle spirit masters. The combination of battle spirit masters and the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda, a rule that has existed since the founding of the sect, is something that a genius food-type spirit master could not break.
"I understand, you may leave." He sighed softly and waved for his disciple to leave. After the palace doors closed, Ning Fengzhi rose and walked to the window, gazing in the direction of Ning Rongrong's residence. Under the moonlight, the exquisite pavilion was heartbreakingly quiet.

"What a pity," Ning Fengzhi sighed softly, turning around and stirring a gentle breeze in his robes. A page of the sect register on the table was turned by the wind, revealing a list of eligible young men from various families. His fingertips lightly traced the page, finally stopping at Feng Yao's name.

"Rongrong," he murmured softly. As the sect leader, he had to consider the future of the sect; but as a father, how could he not feel pain in his heart as he watched his daughter grow more and more haggard?

A night breeze swept by, lifting his magnificent robes. Ning Fengzhi gazed at the solitary moon on the horizon, and for the first time, his resolve to uphold the sect's rules wavered. But this thought was quickly suppressed by reason—the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School's legacy could not afford the slightest mishap.

As night fell, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School gradually fell silent. Ning Rongrong leaned against the window, lost in thought, her fingertips unconsciously twirling a strand of hair.

"Knock, knock knock—"

The sudden soft knock made Ning Rongrong tremble. She stood up alertly, the Seven Treasure Glazed Pagoda faintly appearing in her palm: "Who?"

"It's me, Rongrong." Oscar's familiar voice came from outside the window, carrying a hint of night dew coolness.

Ning Rongrong took a deep breath, retracted her martial spirit, and a resolute light flashed in her eyes. She gripped the hem of her skirt tightly—it was time; she couldn't delay any longer. A short, sharp pain was better than a long, drawn-out one; continuing to hide it would only cause Oscar more suffering in the future.

"Come in." She finally opened the carved door.

Oscar stepped into this familiar pink world. Ning Rongrong's boudoir exuded a girlish charm—pink curtains, a bed piled high with dolls, and a dressing table overflowing with jewelry boxes. This wasn't his first time here, but every time he entered this private space, his heart would still pound uncontrollably.

"Rongrong, what are you doing?" Oscar gently closed the door, his voice as gentle as water.

Ning Rongrong turned and walked inside, but couldn't help glancing at the young man behind her. Oscar was no longer the disheveled man he once was—his stubble was clean-shaven, his smooth brown hair was neatly combed back, and his pale gold Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School robes accentuated his tall, slender figure. Most striking were his captivating peach blossom eyes, with long, thick eyelashes; their captivating gaze was so alluring that even girls would be envious, making Ning Rongrong不敢直视 (dare not look directly at him).

Oscar hurried forward, took a small oil paper package from his pocket, and placed it on the dressing table. "I saw your light was still on when I passed by," he said with concern. "Why aren't you resting so late?"

Ning Rongrong had her back to him, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her skirt. "I...I'm going to sleep now." Her voice was a little strained, and her gaze fell on the package of still-steaming pastries—her favorite kind of cakes.

"You can't stay up this late all the time," Oscar said deliberately in a lighthearted tone, a gentle smile in his eyes. "It's bad for your health, and besides," he deliberately drew out, "staying up late makes you age faster."

Upon hearing this, Ning Rongrong turned around abruptly: "I'm only fourteen years old, how am I old?" she retorted, pouting, her voice carrying a long-lost coquettish tone.

Oscar was stunned. He hadn't heard this tone from Ning Rongrong in a long time. A hint of worry flashed in her peach blossom eyes, and he asked softly, "Rongrong, are you in a bad mood today?"

The room fell silent. Ning Rongrong gripped her skirt tightly; the courage she had mustered vanished the moment she saw Oscar. The words she had prepared were stuck in her throat, impossible to utter.

Seeing her silence, Oscar sighed softly, "Then I'll head back now." He pointed to the oil paper package on the table, "These snacks are easy to digest, eat them before you sleep."

He raised his hand, instinctively wanting to stroke Ning Rongrong's soft, long hair, but stopped mid-air. In the end, he only gave her a deep look before turning and walking towards the door. The moonlight cast a long shadow of him on Ning Rongrong's pink carpet, making him appear particularly lonely.

Just as he was about to step out the door, Ning Rongrong suddenly spoke up: "Wait!" Her voice trembled slightly.

(End of this chapter)