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

Chapter 81 Diagnosis and Treatment
Under the protection of two Title Douluos, Feng Yao began to absorb the 60,000-year-old Thousand-Faced Fox Soul Ring. He sat cross-legged, his hands resting on his knees, and the deep, ink-black Soul Ring slowly descended under the pull of his soul power. Surprisingly, the moment the Soul Ring touched his body, it transformed into a flowing cloud of dark silver mist, enveloping his entire body.

She Long also spoke up at the right time: "Don't worry, the older the soul ring, the more different the absorption will be due to the different soul power attributes."

A flicker of realization crossed Feng Yao's eyes; the absorption process was far more mysterious than he had imagined. Within the mist swirling around Feng Yao, phantom images of the Thousand-Faced Spirit Fox from its previous life occasionally surfaced, accompanied by ethereal echoes, as if countless Feng Yaos were whispering simultaneously.

She Long keenly noticed that the ancient patterns on Feng Yao's "Fuxi" zither were undergoing subtle changes, gradually revealing star patterns similar to those of the Thousand-Faced Fox Crystal.

Four full hours passed, and as the last wisp of dark silver mist was completely absorbed, Feng Yao suddenly opened his eyes. Shockingly, his pupils briefly transformed into multifaceted prisms similar to those of the Thousand-Faced Fox, his eyes seemingly swirling with countless phantoms. He gently stroked the newly renovated "Fuxi" zither, and his sixth soul ring suddenly lit up:

"Sixth Soul Skill, Thousand Faces Shadow!"

In an instant, six figures identical to Feng Yao's original body simultaneously appeared in the forest. Each clone held a phantom image of "Fuxi," and even the movement of their robes and the frequency of their hair swaying were exactly the same. Even more astonishingly, these clones were all surrounded by the same soul power fluctuations as the original body.

A glint of surprise flashed in She Long's eyes as he said, "It's not a weapon spirit clone, but a normal clone skill. This skill is..."

Before She Long could finish speaking, he suddenly realized something, "After all, how could a 60,000-year-old soul beast be just a simple clone?"

The next second, She Long's spear suddenly pierced towards three of the clones. Shockingly, these clones all made realistic defensive movements—the left clone plucked a string to release a sonic shield, the middle clone dodged to the side, and the right clone directly blocked with the body of the zither. Although they were ultimately shattered by the power of a Title Douluo, they did indeed demonstrate physical combat strength.

"Senior guessed correctly, each clone possesses 70% of the main body's strength," Feng Yao explained. "However, maintaining each clone increases the soul power consumption by 10% on top of the original." He demonstrated, showing that when one clone played the instrument, it could indeed cause the surrounding plants and trees to resonate.

Ci Xue couldn't help but exclaim, "This is far more practical than the weapon spirit clones!" He keenly observed that when these clones were attacked, they would generate unique energy ripples like water, clearly perfectly inheriting the Thousand-Faced Fox's abilities. Even more astonishing was the apparent energy link between the clones, allowing them to transfer soul power to each other.

When Feng Yao withdrew his soul skill, his face was slightly pale: "The current limit is that six clones can be maintained for ten minutes, or one clone for one hour." He stroked the newly appeared dark silver crystal patterns on the zither, "The greatest value of these clones lies in—"

Before the words were even finished, a sudden change occurred! Two clones appeared without warning, three zhang behind She Long, simultaneously plucking the strings of their zithers. Under Feng Yao's control, the two clones played "Fuxi" in an instant. The intense resonance created mental interference, causing even She Long's mind to tremble. The two had actually used a combined soul skill, which, although having limited impact on a Title Douluo, was still a testament to the ease with which they could create such a coordinated attack.

She Long recalled Feng Yao's skills and said with a slight tremor in his voice, "Don't tell me that your clones can also release soul power amplification skills."

Feng Yao smiled and shook his head, saying, "How could that be? Although these clones have 70% of my strength, they are ultimately constructed from my soul power. However, when I use the soul power amplification skill, I should be able to extend the clones' lifespan."

She Long nodded and said, "This is also very practical. For you, it's even much stronger than a weapon spirit clone. This isn't a simple clone, but a physical projection that can independently unleash soul skills and perform tactical coordination!"

Such a soul skill is invaluable in battle—imagine six clones, each possessing 70% of the power of the Wind Element, simultaneously playing different musical pieces, creating a terrifying combined attack.

Suddenly, Ci Xue thought of something and frowned, saying, "But when the clone is defeated, will the main body suffer a backlash?"

Feng Yao nodded: "Each clone lost will cause a backlash of five percent of the main body's soul power. However, since they are clones constructed of energy, apart from the loss of soul power, there are no other effects."

The two Title Douluos exchanged a glance, both seeing the shock in each other's eyes. While this soul skill was powerful and perfectly suited to Feng Yao, it demanded extremely high levels of tactical skill and soul power control from the user. Used well, it was a divine skill; used poorly, it could unnecessarily weaken one's own soul power.

On the other side, at Yuexuan, the top-floor elegant room.

As dawn broke, a ray of golden sunlight filtered through the exquisitely carved window lattice, casting dappled shadows on the rosewood floor. Tang Yuehua sat gracefully at the table, her slender fingers gently caressing a celadon teacup, oblivious to the fact that the tea had long since cooled. Standing opposite her was a young girl of about sixteen or seventeen, dressed in a pale purple dress with cloud patterns, her figure slender and her features exquisitely beautiful. Most striking were her eyes, clear as a lake—they were none other than Ye Lingling, the descendant of the Nine-Heart Begonia lineage.

"Lingling, I'll have to trouble you this time." Tang Yuehua's voice was gentler than usual, her fingertips unconsciously tapping lightly on the table. "The patient's condition is somewhat unusual."

Ye Lingling bowed slightly, her long dress rippling like water, her voice clear and respectful: "Madam Yuehua, you flatter me. You are my teacher, this is nothing to worry about." As she spoke, a jade begonia hairpin in her hair swayed slightly, reflecting a warm luster in the sunlight.

Tang Yuehua rose to lead the way, the jade pendants at her waist jingling softly. The two passed through three layers of Suzhou embroidered screens painted with flowers of the four seasons, and then along a long corridor filled with ancient zithers.

Pushing open the last sandalwood door, carved with begonia patterns, a medicinal fragrance mixed with agarwood wafted out.

Ye Lingling's pupils suddenly contracted as a familiar figure came into view—on the sandalwood couch, a burly middle-aged man was meditating with his eyes closed. He wore only a thin gray linen robe, and his bare arms were covered with hideous scars. Although he was merely sitting, he naturally exuded a suffocating sense of oppression, like a sleeping ferocious beast.

"Your Majesty Haotian." Ye Lingling keenly noticed that as Tang Hao breathed, there was a faint bloody aura floating in his chest, which was the internal injuries accumulated over many years eroding his internal organs.

“That’s right, Lingling, my elder brother Tang Hao.” Tang Yuehua softly uttered this name that was enough to shake the soul master world, while carefully observing Ye Lingling’s reaction.

Ye Lingling's fingers trembled slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. She looked at Tang Yuehua and said softly, "Senior's cultivation is too high, and I can only do my best. I'm afraid there are some injuries that I cannot heal." Tang Yuehua nodded and said gently, "Lingling, just do your best."

Ye Lingling nodded and slowly stepped forward. Her Nine-Heart Begonia Martial Soul quietly bloomed, its pink and white petals swirling in her palm, emitting a soft light: "Senior Tang, please relax."

Tang Hao opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping over Ye Lingling like lightning before finally settling on the Nine-Heart Begonia. He nodded slightly, saying nothing more, but simply unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his scarred chest.

Ye Lingling took a deep breath, and five spirit rings—yellow, yellow, purple, purple, and black—rose from beneath her feet. She gently cupped the begonia flower in her hands, and the fifth spirit ring shone brightly. Nine petals drifted out, landing around Tang Hao and slowly merging into his body.

"Such severe internal injuries." Fine beads of sweat appeared on Ye Lingling's forehead. "There are at least five old injuries that have accumulated for over ten years, three of which affect the heart meridian. The new injuries have spread to many other parts of the body, causing extensive damage to the meridians. My whole body is like a leaky house."

Tang Yuehua clenched her sleeves nervously, her knuckles turning bluish-white. She watched as the begonia petals summoned by Ye Lingling continuously merged into Tang Hao's body, realizing that her brother's condition was far from optimistic.

Shockingly, Ye Lingling could sense that Tang Hao was in a very poor mental state.

"This is a mental injury at the level of a Title Douluo?" She looked at Tang Hao in disbelief, her emerald eyes filled with shock. "Senior, you once burned your soul power? And more than once?"

A hint of surprise flashed in Tang Hao's eyes, and he slowly nodded: "That happened more than ten years ago. Didn't you see it the most recent time?" His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper being rubbed.

"Lingling, how badly is my second brother injured?" Tang Yuehua's voice trembled slightly, her slender fingers unconsciously clenching her sleeves, her usually dignified face now filled with panic.

Ye Lingling bit her lip lightly, about to speak, but Tang Hao raised his hand to stop her: "It's alright, no need to say more." His deep voice revealed an undeniable determination.

Seeing this, Tang Yuehua had no choice but to remain silent, but she still couldn't help but cover her lips with her handkerchief. Her eyes, as clear as autumn water, were filled with worry as she stared intently at Ye Lingling, who was healing Tang Hao.

With Ye Lingling's continuous efforts, Tang Hao's old wounds began to heal at a visible speed, and his internal injuries were also constantly recovering. However, due to her limited control over her soul power, the treatment was far from meticulous. During the treatment, Ye Lingling's delicate body trembled incessantly, clearly under immense pressure.

An hour later, Ye Lingling finally gave up, exhausted. Her face was as pale as paper, and she didn't even have the strength to stand. Tang Hao breathed a long sigh of relief. For the first time in twenty years, he felt the pent-up soul power in his body return to normal, and even his breathing became much smoother.

"Thank you." This tough guy rarely expressed his gratitude, his voice still deep but with a touch of warmth. He stood up and helped the swaying Ye Lingling, his movements unexpectedly gentle.

Tang Yuehua quickly poured a cup of warm tea and carefully handed it to Ye Lingling, then considerately supported her slightly swaying body. Her slender fingers pushed some delicate pastries on the table towards Ye Lingling: "Lingling, have some tea and rest. You've really worked hard."

A faint smile appeared on Ye Lingling's pale face, her emerald eyes still as clear as ever: "It was just a slight depletion of soul power." She hesitated, glancing at Tang Hao, before finally saying softly, "However... Senior's old injuries are far too severe. With my current cultivation, I can only heal to this extent." Her voice trailed off, "Senior, please remember not to use your Martial Soul again, and even more so, not to engage in combat. If you forcibly unleash your Martial Soul True Body, I'm afraid..."

Upon hearing this, Tang Yuehua's teacup trembled slightly, almost spilling the tea. She urgently grasped Ye Lingling's hand: "Lingling, even your Nine-Heart Begonia can't heal Second Brother's injury?"

Ye Lingling gently shook her head: "To completely heal your injuries, you would need at least the cultivation level of a Soul Saint. My current control over my soul power is simply insufficient."

Tang Yuehua closed her eyes briefly, her long eyelashes trembling slightly. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and when she opened her eyes again, she had regained her usual composure and poise. She gently took Ye Lingling's arm and said softly, "Lingling, you've had a long day. Let me help you back to your room to rest."

Ye Lingling's face was still somewhat pale, but she smiled gently and said softly, "Thank you, Madam Yuehua." With Tang Yuehua's help, she slowly got up, and the two walked side by side, their skirts swaying lightly, casting two slender shadows in the moonlight.

In the shadows of the corridor, Tang San silently observed everything. His right hand gripped the window frame tightly, his knuckles white, and his eyes flickered with complex emotions—heartache for his father's injuries, gratitude for Ye Lingling, and a familiar figure appearing in his mind.

Tang Yuehua led Ye Lingling to a private room in the side hall. After the maid served fragrant tea and left, Tang Yuehua's knuckles, gripping the teacup tightly, turned slightly white. "Lingling," she said, "tell me the truth, how badly is Second Brother injured?"

Ye Lingling paused, her delicate hand holding the teacup still, the celadon reflecting her pale face. "Madam Yuehua," she sighed softly, "I have done my best to repair your meridians, and it is a miracle you have survived. If you can rest and recuperate, I may be able to cure you once I break through to the Soul Saint realm. But if you forcefully activate your Martial Soul again—" She looked up at Tang Yuehua, her emerald eyes filled with worry, "I fear that the next time you make a move, it will be your death."

"What?!" Tang Yuehua's teacup shattered with a "crack," the scalding tea splashing onto her silk skirt without her noticing. She abruptly stood up, her moon-white skirt tracing a messy arc under the eaves.

When she stumbled back to where she was, the room was already empty, except for the wide-open window, which swayed gently in the breeze. Tang Yuehua's legs went weak, and she collapsed onto the cold floor. Crystalline tears finally welled up in her eyes, leaving deep and shallow stains on her dress.

In the shadows, Tang Hao gazed at his sister's trembling back, his iron-like fingers digging deeply into his palms. A gentle breeze ruffled his tattered cloak, carrying away his barely audible sigh: "Yuehua... forgive your second brother. Your second brother still has many things left unfinished."

(End of this chapter)