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

By the time Feng Yao had settled the Blue Silver Clan, the bright moonlight had already quietly climbed onto the treetops. When he and Qian Renxue returned to Tian Dou City under the cover of night, the entire city was immersed in tranquility, with only a few scattered lights stubbornly flickering in the darkness.

As Feng Yao and Qian Renxue stepped through the East Palace gate, two figures suddenly appeared like ghosts. She Long and Ci Xue, two titled Douluo, stood on either side of the hall. The moment they saw Feng Yao, a hint of undisguised surprise flashed in their eyes.

"This..." She Long's gaze lingered briefly on Feng Yao, his brows furrowing almost imperceptibly.

But the two quickly composed themselves, turning to Qian Renxue and bowing respectfully: "Young Master, you've finally returned." She Long's voice carried a sense of relief, "Your subordinates have been waiting for a long time."

His piercing gaze kept glancing at Feng Yao, seemingly trying to figure out who this young man who had suddenly appeared beside the young master was. The atmosphere in front of the hall became somewhat subtle, as the night wind rustled the robes of the crowd.

Feng Yao's lips curled slightly, and with a light tap of his fingertips on the void, a dazzling golden light suddenly burst forth. The ancient and mysterious "Fuxi" zither slowly condensed in his palm, with a faint halo of soul power flowing across its strings.

"Greetings, seniors." Feng Yao's voice was gentle and warm, with a hint of familiar amusement. His slender fingers lightly stroked the strings, producing a clear and melodious vibrato. The unique fluctuation of his soul power immediately eased the expressions of She Long and Ci Xue.

"So it was you, kid!" Ci Xue was the first to react, his tense face instantly relaxing, a look of realization flashing in his eyes.

She Long nodded slightly, a rare smile appearing on his usually serious face: "We were mistaken." He glanced meaningfully at Feng Yao and the martial spirit in his hand, then stopped there and didn't ask any further questions.

Qian Renxue's golden eyes suddenly narrowed, her sharp gaze slowly sweeping over She Long and Ci Xue. "It seems," she parted her red lips, her voice as cold as ice, "that Tian Dou City has been quite lively while I was away."

She Long and Ci Xue were about to say something when Qian Renxue gently interrupted them, "Let's go inside and talk." As she stepped forward, her golden boots made a crisp sound on the marble floor, echoing in the silent night.

In the study, Qian Renxue gracefully raised her hand to gesture to She Long. She slowly walked towards the main seat, her snow-white skirt trailing behind her, her voice surprisingly calm: "Uncle She, no need to rush, speak slowly."

She Long took a deep breath and said in a deep voice, "Young Master, the first thing—" He paused, a complex look flashing in his eyes, "Tang Hao... is dead."

A hush fell over the hall. Qian Renxue's pupils contracted sharply upon hearing this, her slender fingers unconsciously tightening their grip on the throne armrest, leaving five clear finger marks on the fine gold surface. She slowly raised her eyes, a flicker of flame seeming to dance in her golden pupils, and her voice abruptly turned cold: "Dead?"

She Long nodded gravely, fine beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "That's true. After the attack that day, although they managed to escape, I never expected..." His voice lowered, "...that they actually fled to the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School."

Qian Renxue's red lips curled into a cold smile as her fingertips lightly tapped the armrest of the throne. "A clever person indeed," she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice, "knowing where to escape to before you die."

She Long stepped forward, presenting a document with both hands: "This is news from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School. Although the healing-type Soul Master from the Ye family and Ning Fengzhi personally intervened, Tang Hao's injuries were too severe—" He paused deliberately, "and ultimately, there was no way to save him."

Qian Renxue took the document, her gilded fingernails making a soft scratching sound on the paper. She glanced down at the neat handwriting and suddenly chuckled, "Ha, the mighty Haotian Douluo, has ended up like this." The document instantly turned to dust in her hand, scattering to the ground.

Feng Yao noticed that the falling paper scraps were crushed even more by the invisible soul power before they hit the ground, as if Qian Renxue was using this to vent some indescribable emotion.

Qian Renxue snorted coldly, a sharp glint flashing in her golden eyes: "So this is the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School!" Her slender fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of the throne, producing a crisp sound. "They rescued the person; they failed, and instead, they're in a hurry to report the death to us."

She suddenly stood up: "Ning Fengzhi played that trick quite well." A meaningful, cold smile curled at the corner of her lips. "He fulfilled his duty of providing medical assistance while also being quick to distance himself from the situation."

Ci Xue stepped forward at the opportune moment and added in a deep voice, "Young Master, Tang Yuehua has already returned to the Haotian Sect with that child named Tang San."

Qian Renxue suddenly chuckled, a cold glint flashing in her golden eyes: "Ignore her." She waved her hand gracefully, "Uncle She, Uncle Ci, you two will remain hidden for now."

She walked slowly to the window, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on her exquisite profile. "Without concrete evidence," she said, her fingertips lightly tapping the windowpane, producing a crisp sound, "what can the Haotian Sect do to me?"

Feng Yao gently stroked the strings of the Fuxi Qin and suddenly spoke: "In that case, His Holiness the Pope should also take some action, right?" His voice was very soft, but it made the hall fall silent.

The strings vibrated slightly, producing a clear, lingering sound. A complex emotion flashed in Qian Renxue's eyes as she gazed at Feng Yao: "You've reminded me."

She Long and Ci Xue's gazes met briefly in mid-air, a hint of hesitation flashing in both of their eyes. In the end, they both looked at Qian Renxue without prior agreement.

Qian Renxue nodded slightly, her gilded armor gleaming softly in the candlelight: "Please speak freely, uncles." Her voice was soft, yet carried an undeniable authority.

She Long and Ci Xue exchanged a glance and bowed simultaneously. She Long lowered his voice and said, "Reporting to the young master, according to a secret report from within the palace, His Holiness the Pope summoned all the elders of the Elder Hall for a meeting three days ago." He paused, a hint of solemnity flashing in his eyes, "and decided that once the movements of the Haotian Sect are ascertained, we will begin to purge the high-level Soul Master forces within the Tian Dou territory."

Ci Xue replenished his blood in time, his voice hoarse: "The first to bear the brunt is probably the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan." After he finished speaking, he unconsciously clenched his fist, his knuckles making a slight cracking sound.

Upon hearing this, Qian Renxue suddenly chuckled: "What a swift and decisive move, a warning shot indeed. Hmm, I understand."

Feng Yao noticed a complex emotion flash in Qian Renxue's eyes when she spoke, a mixture of mockery and unspoken melancholy. She Long and Ci Xue both showed surprise, their gazes meeting to reveal the confusion in each other's eyes. As was customary, whenever they reported on decisions regarding Bibi Dong, the young master would always express resistance, sometimes more strongly, sometimes less, even deliberately contradicting them on minor details.

Ci Xue couldn't help but steal a glance at Qian Renxue, only to see her calmly stroking the jade pendant at her waist. This unusual silence only made the two Title Douluos even more uneasy.

She Long coughed lightly and asked tentatively, "Does Young Master have any further instructions regarding this?"

Qian Renxue's fingertips paused slightly, a meaningful smile curving her red lips: "Instructions?" She gently shook her head, then looked up and asked, "Is there anything else important to report?"

She Long was startled from his thoughts and quickly bowed, replying, "Reporting to the young master, the matter of Tang Hao's death is currently known only to a few high-ranking officials." He paused, then continued, "All is calm within Tiandou City; none of our spies have detected any unusual activity."

Qian Renxue's lips curled slightly, a cold glint flashing in her eyes: "I doubt they'd dare to make a big fuss." She lightly tapped the armrest of her chair with her fingertips, producing a crisp sound. "If the Haotian Sect really dares to make a fuss, it'll save us the trouble of searching for them."

As trusted confidants who had watched Qian Renxue grow up, She Long and Ci Xue exchanged a glance, both reading deep surprise and worry in each other's eyes. They knew their young master's personality all too well—given her noble status as the young master of the Spirit Hall, the fact that she had to hide her identity and act as an undercover agent in the Heaven Dou Empire over the years was unimaginable. Whenever the Pope's decisions were involved, she would always express her dissent, either openly or subtly; rather than out of opposition, it was more like she wanted to prove her worth.

But today...
Qian Renxue stood quietly by the window, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on her exquisite profile. Her slender fingers unconsciously caressed the jade pendant at her waist, her expression eerily calm. This unusual silence made the two Title Douluos' hearts tighten—they would rather hear their young master's usual sarcastic remarks than witness her unfathomable silence.

Ci Xue couldn't help but take half a step forward: "Young Master, you..."

"I'm tired," Qian Renxue suddenly spoke, her voice as soft as a breeze. "You may all leave now."

She Long wanted to say something more, but fell silent when he saw Qian Renxue's slightly trembling fingertips. As the two bowed and left the hall, they both turned back to look at the figure standing in the moonlight, which now appeared so lonely and resolute.

As She Long withdrew, his gaze unconsciously fell upon Feng Yao, who stood quietly to the side. The young man's handsome features were faintly visible in the candlelight, and he was completely different from when they first met. A hint of realization flashed in his deep eyes—since the appearance of this mysterious young man, the young master's change had been happening quietly, like a gentle spring rain.

The Qian Renxue who used to be prickly and always opposed Bibi Dong could now accept Bibi Dong's decision so calmly. She Long couldn't help but recall the few days ago when he had caught a glimpse of the young master smiling alone in the garden—a bright smile he hadn't seen in over a decade.

Ci Xue followed She Long's gaze, and the two nodded knowingly. As the palace doors slowly closed, She Long took one last look at the two figures standing side by side in the moonlight, and sighed inwardly: Perhaps this young man is the key to unlocking the young master's heart.

She Long and Ci Xue's figures had already vanished from the hall like smoke. The two titled Douluo left so quickly that even the candlelight in the hall did not flicker, leaving only a faint wisp of soul power fluctuation slowly dissipating in the air.

Qian Renxue gazed in the direction where the two had disappeared, unconsciously letting out a sigh of relief. The moment she turned and met Feng Yao's gaze, the tips of her ears subtly flushed red again.

A mischievous smile played on Feng Yao's lips as he feigned seriousness, cupping his hands in a respectful gesture. "It's getting late; I should return to the academy first."

Before he could finish speaking, a golden streak of light appeared instantly. Qian Renxue, her face flushed, appeared before him, her slender hand grabbing his collar and pulling him close enough to hear his breath. "You—" she bit her lower lip, her golden eyes blazing with anger and embarrassment, "Don't think that just because I can't beat you now, you can be so presumptuous."

Feng Yao looked down at the stunningly beautiful face so close to his own, clearly counting the trembling of her eyelashes. He deliberately lowered his voice: "Then what does Young Master intend to do with me?" His warm breath brushed against her reddened earlobe.

Qian Renxue tightened her grip, but when she met his smiling eyes, she suddenly deflated and released her hold: "Just stay, why all this nonsense?"

Before she could finish speaking, Qian Renxue suddenly felt a tightness around her waist, and she was instantly lifted into the air. Feng Yao's strong arms had already lifted her up steadily, and the sudden feeling of weightlessness made her subconsciously clutch his clothes.

"You—!" Her golden eyes widened slightly in surprise, her words cut short. Feng Yao looked down at her, a triumphant smile in his eyes: "Since Young Master is so insistent," his voice tinged with mockery, "I have no choice but to respectfully comply."

Qian Renxue felt her cheeks burning and tried to break free, but he held her even tighter. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting their intertwined shadows on the ground. She was embarrassed and annoyed to find that her heart was pounding so loudly that it seemed the entire palace could hear it.

On the other side, as dusk settled, a silent procession slowly came to a stop before the village. Tang San hung his head, his face as pale as paper, each step seemingly requiring all his strength. He gripped the box tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white from the force.

Titan's imposing figure blocked the way. He knelt on one knee, his clasped hands trembling slightly. "Lady Moonflower," he said, his rough voice choked with suppressed sobs, "this is as far as my master can go." "Please... take my master home."

Tang Yuehua's usually elegant face was now extremely pale. She gently helped the loyal old man to his feet, a look of guilt on her face: "Elder Titan," her voice so soft as if afraid of disturbing the deceased's peaceful rest, "this kindness, Yuehua will never forget."

Titan sighed heavily, his calloused hands trembling as he patted Tang San's shoulder: "Little Master." All his unspoken words were reduced to a long sigh.

Titan slowly turned around, the setting sun casting a sorrowful golden glow on his resolute face. He clasped his hands in a fist and bowed deeply to Tang Yuehua, his rough voice choked with barely concealed sobs: "Lady Yuehua..." He paused, his gaze passing over Tang Yuehua's shoulder and landing on Tang San, who stood behind him in a daze, "This old servant dares to be so bold as to beg you to take good care of your young master."

Tang Yuehua gracefully lifted her skirt and bowed deeply. Her lowered eyelashes cast a faint shadow on her pale cheeks, and her voice, though soft, was clear and distinct: "Elder Titan's instructions, Yuehua will remember them."

(End of this chapter)