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

Chapter 75 Taking the bait
Time flies like an arrow. This short month-long holiday is but a drop in the ocean compared to Feng Yao's long years of cultivation. Playing the zither at dawn and practicing Qi cultivation at dusk, day after day of practice allows time to slip quietly through one's fingers.

At midday, the lake shimmered with golden light. Feng Yao's slender fingers gently pressed the strings of the zither, and as the lingering sound faded, he slowly opened his eyes. Not far away, Ning Rongrong stood still, her glassy eyes reflecting a complex expression.

In just one short month, the girl's state of mind had undergone a complete transformation. The wariness and hostility she felt upon first meeting had now turned into genuine admiration. Feng Yao's conversation with her consisted of only a few words, offering no further guidance on cultivation. Such focused purity was something she could only recall seeing when Chen Xin practiced his sword.

Ning Rongrong unconsciously twisted the hem of her skirt with her slender fingers, hesitating by the lake. Feng Yao, holding "Fuxi" in his arms, looked up and took in her hesitant expression.

"What is it?" Feng Yao's cold voice startled the girl from her thoughts.

"Dad wants to invite you to a banquet." Ning Rongrong's voice was barely audible, and a faint blush rose on her cheeks.

Feng Yao frowned slightly and asked softly, "Will His Highness the Crown Prince accompany us?"

This question made Ning Rongrong's ears burn. How could she not know her father's intentions? How could the Crown Prince be present at such a blatant attempt to undermine her father? The girl lowered her head, staring at the tips of her shoes, her unease evident.

Feng Yao's gaze lingered on her awkward posture for a moment, then he chuckled softly, "Let's go." He stood up, his guqin gleaming warmly in the sunlight.

Ning Rongrong's eyes suddenly lit up, sparkling like stars, and she quickly nodded in response, "The carriage is already waiting outside the academy." Her cheerful tone revealed her undisguised joy.

The gilded carriage slowly made its way towards Tiandou City along the tree-lined road, the sound of its wheels rolling over the bluestone pavement crisp and melodious. Through the carved carriage windows, the scenery along the way could be seen unfolding like a scroll painting.

Before long, a magnificent golden pavilion came into view. The four gilded characters "Liuli Night Banquet" shone brightly in the setting sun, and the colorful glazed fountain in front of the gate was dazzling with light—such extravagance was the consistent style of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.

A waiter in fine clothes respectfully led the two to a private room on the top floor. The gilded and carved door of the private room slowly opened, revealing Ning Fengzhi sitting in the main seat, with the two Douluo, Jian Gu and Dui Luo, standing on either side.

Feng Yao bowed respectfully, his posture neither humble nor arrogant: "Greetings, Sect Master Ning." He then nodded slightly to both sides, "Senior Sword, Senior Bone." His voice was clear and melodious, like a jade chime, and was particularly pleasant to the ear in the elegant private room.

The two, Jian Gu and Feng Yao, exchanged glances. Although they were somewhat critical of Feng Yao's coldness towards Ning Rongrong, they still nodded slightly in greeting. Over the past month, even they, with their haughty attitudes, had to admire the young man's cultivation progress.

Gu Rong stroked his chin, secretly lamenting that he had never been so focused in his youth; while Chen Xin's sword-like eyes, which had seen all the vicissitudes of life, revealed a rare hint of admiration—if this young man could maintain this mindset and not fall into depravity, given time, his achievements would probably be beyond even his own reach.

Ning Fengzhi smiled as he looked at Feng Yao, his eyes full of appreciation: "Little Feng, there's no need for such formality." He raised his hand in a gesture of respect, the flowing, glass-like silk threads in his sleeves reflecting a warm smile in the sunlight. "Rongrong has received much guidance these past few days, and as her father, I should express my gratitude."

Feng Yao smiled faintly, holding his cup: "I was entrusted with this task, so I must fulfill my duty. It's nothing more than a small favor; Sect Leader Ning, you flatter me."

"Please take your seats." Ning Fengzhi lightly flicked his wide sleeves, causing ripples to spread across the tea in his glass cup. After the two were seated, he casually tapped the table: "What does Xiao Feng think of my Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School?" Before he finished speaking, an invisible aura seemed to flow within the private room.

In an instant, the air in the entire private room seemed to freeze. All eyes were fixed on Feng Yao as if they were physical objects.

Ning Rongrong unconsciously gripped the hem of her skirt, her glassy eyes filled with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. In that split second, a handsome figure suddenly appeared in her mind—the boy who had made sausages for her. This thought made her heart tremble, and an inexplicable sense of guilt quietly spread through her.

"The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School is indeed incredibly wealthy." Feng Yao gently stroked the teacup, the sound like a clear spring striking a stone.

These four words made Ning Fengzhi raise an eyebrow slightly—money is indeed the most insignificant thing in the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School.

"What an arrogant brat!" Gu Rong slammed his hand on the table, his eyes flashing with a sharp light. "Do you think that all the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School has left are these gold and silver artifacts?"

Feng Yao sipped his tea leisurely, a slight smile playing on his lips. "If your clan truly possesses everything," he said, twirling the glass cup between his fingers, "then why invite me to a banquet?"

Gu Rong paused upon hearing this, his chest heaving violently, a cold glint flashing in his eyes, and his soul power subtly fluctuating. Ning Fengzhi raised his hand at the opportune moment, his gentle voice like a spring breeze: "Uncle Gu, calm down." He lightly tapped his fingertips on the glass cup, "Sometimes, we should listen to what young people think of us."

"Hmph!" Gu Rong flicked his sleeve heavily, but the chilling killing intent around him gradually subsided.

Seeing this, Ning Rongrong's glassy eyes flashed with unease. She quietly clenched the hem of her skirt and made up her mind—since she had invited him, she would protect Feng Yao and make sure he left safely, no matter what.

Ning Fengzhi seemed to sense something, and looked at Feng Yao with a smile: "Don't worry, Feng." He poured tea, and his tone became even gentler as the aroma of the tea rose, "The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School would never harm its friends."

Feng Yao's eyes flickered slightly, a glint of starlight seeming to dance within them, before returning to calm. He took a sip from his cup and spoke slowly, "Since Sect Leader Ning and the two seniors are interested, this junior may tell you a story."

Ning Fengzhi lightly flicked his wide sleeves and gestured for him to speak: "I would like to hear the details."

"Sect Leader Ning must know," Feng Yao tapped the table lightly with his fingertip, "that Tang San and I both graduated from the Notting City Junior Soul Master Academy."

Ning Fengzhi nodded with a smile, making no attempt to hide his knowledge of the matter. "When I first arrived in Notting," Feng Yao's lips curled slightly, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes, "I had a conversation with Tang San and his disciples." He glanced around at the crowd, "Do any of you seniors know what advice you gave me?"

Upon hearing this, the entire room fell silent. Jian Gu and the other man unconsciously leaned forward, and even Ning Rongrong forgot to sip her tea, her glassy eyes filled with curiosity.

Feng Yao tapped his knuckles lightly on the table, the sound like a clear spring striking stone: "Perhaps Yu Xiaogang discovered my talent in support abilities and strongly urged me to become a support-type Soul Master." A sharp glint flashed in his eyes, "But I refused."

Sunlight fell on Feng Yao, illuminating his sharply defined profile: "My reason for refusing Yu Xiaogang is—I want to control my own destiny, not rely on others like a support-type Soul Master." His gaze slowly swept over Jian Gu and the other, "Just like the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School's current situation."

Before he could finish speaking, his words struck like a thunderclap. Ning Fengzhi's teacup trembled, and he slowly nodded with a wry smile, a complex emotion welling up in his eyes.

Feng Yao lightly twirled the teacup with his fingertips, the clear tea reflecting his deep eyes: "Wealth comes and goes with people; without people, even mountains of gold and seas of silver are in vain." He raised his eyes to look directly at Ning Fengzhi, his voice unhurried: "Although I am unwilling to get involved in power struggles, please forgive my frankness—"

The teacup clinked against the sandalwood table, producing a crisp sound. "If the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School and the Spirit Hall were to become direct enemies," he said, a slight smile playing on his lips, though not reaching his eyes, "it would be like a giant ship about to capsize; even with immense wealth, it would be unable to escape sinking."

These words, like a sharp sword drawn from its sheath, sent a shiver down the spines of the two swordsmen. Gu Rong's face was ashen, while Chen Xin's brows were furrowed—though every word was piercing, it was an undeniable truth. Especially when they thought of Oscar, who had been missing for so long, they felt even more certain that these words were not unfounded.

Ning Fengzhi gazed intently at Feng Yao as if he had found a priceless treasure: "I never imagined that Xiao Feng would not only possess such extraordinary talent, but also such remarkable insight into the situation on the continent." He lightly stroked the edge of the glass cup with his fingertips, feeling both amazed and regretful—what a fortunate thing it would be if such a brilliant and talented person could become the guardian or even the successor of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School.

Unfortunately, how could such a insightful person be willing to be bound by the sect?
Ning Rongrong's face turned deathly pale upon hearing this, her slender fingers unconsciously clenching her skirt. For her, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School was not only home, but the very place to which her soul belonged. Hearing Feng Yao's pronouncement now felt like witnessing the ship carrying all her memories slowly sinking, the icy seawater already overflowing its deck.
Ning Rongrong suddenly stood up, her glassy eyes shimmering with tears: "Since you can see through the crisis, do you have any way to resolve it?" Her voice trembled slightly, as if she were grasping at the last straw.

"Rongrong, don't worry!" Gu Rong flashed over and quickly pulled his granddaughter into his arms, his rough hands gently patting her back. "With this old man like me here, even if it costs me my life, I won't let the sect suffer any mishap!" He glared at Feng Yao, but the hostility in his eyes had lessened.

Chen Xin slowly said, "If the lips are gone, the teeth will be cold. If the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School can unite with the three upper sects and the power of the Empire," his sword-like eyebrows slightly raised, "it might not be unable to compete with the Spirit Hall."

Ning Fengzhi sipped his tea, his gentle voice like a stabilizing force: "Indeed. Neither the Heavenly Dou nor the Star Luo Empires, nor the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, will stand idly by and allow the Spirit Hall to dominate." His gaze was far-reaching, as if he could already see the future of the game.

Feng Yao picked up a glistening bamboo shoot with his chopsticks, seemingly oblivious to the crowd's impassioned pronouncements: "Sect Leader Ning must have watched the Soul Battle competition closely the other day." He put the bamboo shoot into his mouth, chewing slowly and deliberately. "You tell me, in team Soul Battles, who would be the first target?"

The crisp sound of chopsticks striking the porcelain plate was particularly jarring in the suddenly silent private room. Jian Gu and the other man's pupils contracted sharply, and Ning Fengzhi nearly dropped the teacup in his hand—the news of Oscar's mysterious disappearance a month ago exploded in their minds like a thunderbolt.

Looking at the composed young man dining before them, the three felt a chill creep up their spines. His hands, holding chopsticks, seemed to be manipulating invisible chess pieces. The private room, which had been filled with lively conversation just moments before, was now so quiet that the cries of vendors outside the window could be heard.

"Dad, Grandpa, what's wrong?" Ning Rongrong's heart tightened as she looked at the sudden change in their expressions; an ominous premonition arose within her.
Gu Rong suppressed the gloom in his eyes and ruffled his granddaughter's hair with his rough hand: "It's nothing, Grandpa was just lost in thought." His voice was deliberately light.

Ning Fengzhi's hand holding the cup tightened slightly, but a gentle smile appeared on his face. He knew better than anyone that the living could never win against the dead, and the departed would always occupy the softest place in the hearts of the living. Some truths, perhaps, should never be known to Rongrong.

Feng Yao lowered his eyes, concealing the fleeting smile in them—Oscar, this pawn, hadn't been wasted after all. Now it was just a matter of waiting to see if Ning Fengzhi, this big fish, would take the bait.

"Let's eat first, the food will get cold." Ning Fengzhi picked up the gilded chopsticks, but his gaze inadvertently fell on Feng Yao. The young man's eating posture was elegant and composed, each bite was just right, as if he were performing some kind of art.

Seeing this scene, Ning Fengzhi suddenly remembered the story Feng Yao had just told him—if Feng Yao really chose to become a support-type Soul Master, what kind of path would this young man take?

Ning Fengzhi tapped his fingertips lightly on the table, then suddenly asked softly, "Little Feng, if you had really become a support-type Soul Master back then, what would you have chosen?"

The private room fell silent. Gu Rong and Chen Xin simultaneously put down their chopsticks and stared intently at Feng Yao.

Feng Yao gracefully set down his cutlery, picked up a snow-white napkin, and lightly wiped his lips. "I will choose a strong person to accompany me, just as Sect Master Ning has discerning eyes." He raised his eyes, a sharp glint in them. "Just like the rules of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School. However," he lightly tapped the table with his fingertips, "the rise and fall of a sect—this choice is far more difficult than choosing a personal companion. If the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School wants to maintain its prosperity generation after generation, it must choose the most likely to prosper and attach itself to it."

"Hmph, kid, if we didn't know your background, I would suspect you're a spy for the Spirit Hall," Gu Rong said, looking at Feng Yao.

Feng Yao calmly poured tea, saying, "This junior is indeed now an honorary elder of the Spirit Hall." Amidst the fragrant tea, a slight smile played on his lips. "Of course, I could also be an honorary elder of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, provided the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School emerges victorious." He twirled the glazed teacup between his fingers. "But given the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School's own position, it's simply impossible for them to be the final victor."

Ning Fengzhi's expression gradually darkened, like the sky before a storm. His slender fingers unconsciously traced the rim of the glass cup, his knuckles turning slightly white. The deeper meaning of Feng Yao's words finally became clear to him—

The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School is like a support-type Soul Master in the Soul Arena; no matter which side they choose, they will inevitably become a primary target. And now, it is the moment when this century-old sect must make a decision.

If the three upper sects were to unite against the Spirit Hall in opposition to the Empire, Ning Fengzhi closed his eyes, as if he could already see the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda collapsing in the flames of war. Even if they ultimately prevailed, their sects would inevitably suffer heavy losses under the Spirit Hall's frenzied retaliation.

If he chose to align himself with the Spirit Hall, he slowly exhaled a breath of stale air. Although the sect's sphere of influence would continuously shrink under the expansion of the Spirit Hall, at least its foundation would be preserved. What he would have to give up were merely the most worthless gold and silver items.

(End of this chapter)