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

Tian Dou City, the Crown Prince's Eastern Palace.

In her hazy sleep, Qian Renxue subconsciously reached out to her side, only to touch a cool brocade quilt. She suddenly opened her eyes, her golden pupils flashing with a hint of confusion in the dim light of the bedchamber. She forced herself to sit up, her silk nightgown slipping from her shoulders, revealing a few ambiguous red marks.

“At this hour,” she murmured softly, her voice still hoarse from just waking up. She casually pulled at the prince's robe on the screen, her slender fingers trembling slightly as she tied the sash. Morning light streamed through the carved window lattice, casting dappled shadows on her delicate collarbone.

Barefoot, she stepped across the cool gold bricks, frowning as she endured the discomfort between her legs and walked towards the outer hall. Her unbound golden hair cascaded down like a waterfall, shimmering softly in the morning light.

Qian Renxue stepped into the hall, the morning light filtering through the carved window lattices, casting a soft glow on her golden hair. She saw Feng Yao already impeccably dressed, sitting at the table, elegantly enjoying his breakfast. She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow: "Why are you up so early today?"

Feng Yao paused slightly, his chopsticks still in his hand, a hint of amazement flashing in his eyes as he looked up. He gently patted the seat beside him, and only after Qian Renxue gracefully sat down did he lean close to her ear and whisper, "Daily intimacy is certainly wonderful," his warm breath brushing against her flushed earlobe, "but if it delays the young master's cultivation progress—"

He deliberately dragged out his words, his fingertips lightly tracing the jade pendant at her waist: "I'm afraid Grandpa Qian and His Holiness the Pope will make things difficult for me." Despite his words, his eyes were filled with a mischievous smile, clearly hinting at the absurdity of the previous night.

Upon hearing this, Qian Renxue's cheeks flushed crimson; she had indeed neglected her cultivation these past few days. But then, recalling the sweet words that made her blush every night, she couldn't help but glare at him with embarrassment and annoyance: "The Eastern Palace clearly has a cultivation room; it's clearly you who..." Before she could finish speaking, her slender fingers had already poked Feng Yao's chest.

Feng Yao chuckled softly and pulled her into his arms. Morning light filtered through the window curtains, casting a soft glow over them. "With a beauty like Xue'er by my side," he said, lowering his head to gently inhale her hair, his voice languid, "who cares about cultivation?"

Qian Renxue glared at Feng Yao, annoyed, and decided not to argue with him about who was right and who was wrong. She elegantly picked up her teacup, took a small sip, and said, "You suddenly want to return to the academy? Is there something important?" Her fingertips lightly traced the rim of the cup. "Since your appearance has changed, why not stay in the Eastern Palace?"

"Not cultivating anymore?" Feng Yao raised an eyebrow, his tone playful.

Qian Renxue's ears turned slightly red, but she forced herself to remain calm: "The Eastern Palace naturally has places for cultivation as well." Her words were subtle, yet they carried a deeper meaning.

Feng Yao chuckled softly upon hearing this, reaching out to brush away the stray golden hair from her forehead. "What?" he deliberately lowered his voice, tinged with a hint of teasing, "Is my young master... reluctant to part with me?"

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting dappled patterns on Qian Renxue's flushed cheeks. She turned her face away, but couldn't hide the slight upturn of her lips. Caught off guard, Qian Renxue abruptly turned away, her golden hair tracing a haughty arc in the air: "Who...who can't bear to part with you!" She deliberately emphasized, "I think you're going back to the academy for another reason, aren't you?"

Feng Yao couldn't help but nod, "Indeed, there is another important matter."

The words had barely left her lips when Qian Renxue abruptly turned around. Her usually dignified golden eyes were now slightly moist, and even her voice trembled slightly: "Are you in such a hurry to go find your little girlfriends?"

Morning light streamed through the carved window lattice, casting dappled shadows on her delicate profile. Only then did Feng Yao notice that the tips of her fingers, gripping her sleeve, were slightly white. Her forced pride only made her more pitiful.

Feng Yao was taken aback upon hearing this. Seeing Qian Renxue's reddened eyes and slightly trembling lips, his heart clenched. He quickly pulled her into his arms and explained gently, "Xue'er, how could I do this for someone else?"

"Hmph, besides your confidantes, what important matters could the academy possibly have?" Qian Renxue turned her face away from him, but her voice softened.

Feng Yao chuckled and pulled her closer, his fingertips tracing her long, shimmering golden hair. "Do you remember the question I asked you when I broke through to Soul Emperor?"

Qian Renxue's body stiffened slightly, a hint of doubt flashing in her golden eyes: "The power of faith?" She looked up at Feng Yao's serious expression, puzzled, and said, "But how much help can the meager faith of the Heavenly Dou Royal Academy provide to you right now?"

"Xue'er," Feng Yao chuckled, taking her soft hand in his, "do you know what's most needed for the development of faith?"

Qian Renxue answered without hesitation, "Naturally, it's the same unparalleled strength as my ancestor." A hint of pride flashed in her eyes.

Feng Yao smiled and shook his head, his fingertips gently stroking the back of her hand: "Strength?" He asked meaningfully, "Is there any force on the continent stronger than the Spirit Hall? Or rather, is there anyone stronger than Senior Qian Daoliu?"

Qian Renxue paused, her long eyelashes trembling slightly. Her voice trailed off as she continued, "...Indeed, no."

The morning light outside the window cast a soft glow on the two of them. Feng Yao gazed at her thoughtful profile, knowing that she was beginning to understand his intentions.

Feng Yao said gently, "Strength is certainly the foundation, but developing a faith involves much more than that. This is precisely the profound meaning behind your ancestor's founding of the Spirit Hall."

"Stop keeping me in suspense!" Qian Renxue glared at him reproachfully, the gilded hairpin casually pinned to her head swaying gently with her movements.

Feng Yao calmly countered, "Then do you know why your ancestor established the Spirit Hall?"

"Naturally, it's for the sake of..." Qian Renxue blurted out, "to save the people of the continent and bring light and hope to the world." Before she finished speaking, she suddenly froze. In the morning light, a trace of disbelief appeared on her delicate face—wasn't she currently infiltrating the Heavenly Dou royal family, doing many shady things?
Feng Yao gazed at Qian Renxue's bewildered expression, his voice gentle as water: "Xue'er, who can be without fault in this world?" His slender fingers lightly stroked her furrowed brow. "The important thing is, after we realize our mistakes, how should we choose?"

Qian Renxue looked up at him, her beautiful golden eyes filled with confusion, like a lost canary. Feng Yao held her tightly, his heart aching, and continued to gently comfort her: "You must understand, even the most perfect conspiracy is still just a conspiracy." His fingertips lightly touched her heart. "When people see those who have already benefited, the seeds of doubt will take root and sprout." His voice grew even softer. "And once doubt arises, how can one truly believe?"

As dawn broke outside the window, it cast a soft glow over the two of them. Qian Renxue stared blankly at the flickering candlelight on the table, Feng Yao's words like a clear spring, gradually washing away the confusion in her eyes. Qian Renxue gently shook her head, a hint of understanding flashing in her beautiful, golden eyes. Morning light filtered through the window curtains, casting dappled shadows on her delicate face.

“So that’s how it is,” she murmured, her voice as soft as a sigh. At this moment, she finally understood why the faith of her ancestors had gradually declined on this continent—any power that wanted to grow and expand inevitably had to resort to various competitive means. And those dirty schemes that couldn’t be seen in the light of day were like poison that corroded the foundation of faith, gradually eroding people’s reverence for the angel gods.

Qian Renxue raised her bright eyes, her voice barely audible: "Xiao Feng, what should I do?"

Feng Yao's fingertips gently brushed against the corner of her eye, his voice steady and firm: "Xue'er, from now on, whenever you face a choice," he took her soft hand and placed it against his heart, "just follow your heart and choose the path you believe is right."

Feng Yao gazed into her golden eyes and continued, "Perhaps not every choice is right, but..." His fingertips lightly traced her brows, "...as long as you make a choice that doesn't go against your conscience at the most important crossroads, that's enough."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead: "After all, who can predict the future?" His voice was so gentle it could melt ice and snow. "But I know I will always... always be by your side."

Looking into his resolute eyes, Qian Renxue seemed to see countless possible futures shimmering in the morning light. She clutched his lapel as if grasping an anchor of fate, nodding slightly yet still with confusion: "But I still don't know how to develop my faith."

Feng Yao gently stroked her long, golden hair with his fingertips, and said softly, "Xue'er, faith is like a spiderweb under the moonlight," he pointed to the dewdrops shimmering in the morning light outside the window, "woven from countless strands of trust. To make the world believe in the existence of angels, miracles are not necessarily needed—"

"Without miracles, how can we convince people of the existence of our ancestors?" Qian Renxue lowered her head in disappointment.

Feng Yao suddenly picked up a teacup from the table, the amber tea reflecting their faces: "Look, though the moon is not visible, its image is reflected in the cup." He gently swirled the teacup. "Writing classics is the best medium, allowing faith to flow naturally like the aroma of tea."

“Authors?” Qian Renxue frowned slightly, her gilded hairpin swaying gently as she shook her head. “Xiao Feng, ordinary books might fool ordinary people, but this is a world ruled by Soul Masters.” A wisp of holy light condensed at her fingertips. “Soul Masters only believe in strength and profit.”

Feng Yao calmly picked up the teapot, the amber tea swirling in the cup. "That's precisely why I must return to the academy." His eyes gleamed with wisdom as he looked up. "To compile a classic text that can shake the very foundations of the Soul Master world."

Qian Renxue's slender fingers, holding the teacup, paused slightly. "Is it feasible?" She gazed at their reflections in the tea. "Theoretical masters abound, yet no one has ever gained faith through this."

Feng Yao suddenly tossed a gold soul coin into his tea, creating ripples. "Because they only see the surface of the water," he said, pointing to the rippling waves. "What I'm going to write is something that will allow all soul masters to see the moon reflected in the water."

Feng Yao gently swirled the teacup in his hand, watching the tea leaves unfurl in the amber-colored tea liquor. "Xue'er, have you ever wondered why those theoretical masters failed to gain faith?" He lightly tapped the rim of the cup with his fingertips, making a crisp sound. "Because both the Spirit Hall and the various sects regard their hard-earned knowledge as a precious treasure, sealing it away layer upon layer."

The morning light outside the window gilded his profile, but his voice carried a hint of coldness: "They fear that the outflow of knowledge will strengthen their enemies, and they are even more afraid of their weaknesses being exposed, but spreading knowledge and educating the masses is not without its benefits."

Qian Renxue thoughtfully stroked the rim of her glass: "So, what do you think are the benefits behind this?"

Feng Yao's voice flowed gently like a babbling brook in the morning light: "When you impart all the knowledge you have gained in your life," he lightly touched Qian Renxue's heart with his fingertip, "you will not only win people's hearts, but also attract talents from all over the world like rivers flowing into the sea."

Outside the window, a canary perched on a branch, its chirping clear and melodious. Feng Yao's gaze seemed to pierce through time and space, gazing upon a figure etched in history from a distant era: "At that time, other forces will be forced to share their treasures," he gently grasped Qian Renxue's hand, "when countless sparks of wisdom collide and merge, it will inevitably propel the entire Soul Master civilization forward." His voice grew distant, "and the one who first opened the treasure trove of knowledge will be forever remembered in the history of Soul Masters."

Qian Renxue nodded earnestly, gazing into his star-like eyes, then suddenly smiled. She intertwined her fingers with his, the gilded hairpin tracing a dazzling arc in the morning light: "Mmm," her voice as soft as a feather, "No matter what you do, I will stand by your side."

Sunlight filtered through their clasped fingers, casting lingering shadows on the ground.

A mischievous smile played in Feng Yao's eyes as he lightly curled a strand of Qian Renxue's golden hair between his fingertips: "Who was it that was so adamant about not letting me leave the Eastern Palace just now?"

Qian Renxue snorted lightly, the gilded hairpin jingling as she raised her head: "I don't care!" She poked Feng Yao's chest with her slender finger, "Anyway, your soul power level is still lower than mine."

"Oh?" Feng Yao raised an eyebrow, suddenly leaning close to her reddened earlobe. "So, you're going to put aside the topic of strength?"

Qian Renxue's ears burned from his teasing, but she still tried to remain calm: "We haven't even fought yet, how do you know you're definitely stronger than me? Anyway, I'll personally go to the academy every day to supervise your training." As she finished speaking, she couldn't help but laugh.

Feng Yao shook his head indulgently, then leaned down and planted a light kiss on her rosy cheek: "Yes, my young master." His warm breath brushed against her sensitive earlobe. "But when the time comes... don't let me 'lead' you astray in your cultivation again."

Qian Renxue blushed instantly upon hearing this, her gilded hairpin swaying gently as she turned her head. "Hmph, now you're making it sound so nice." She poked Feng Yao's chest with her slender finger. "These past few days, I don't know who it was, always finding some twisted reason to delay my cultivation, either pretending to sleep while chatting with me, or just hugging me."

Feng Yao chuckled, covering Qian Renxue's mouth with his hand and pulling her into his arms. "Don't blame me," he whispered in her ear, his warm breath causing her to tremble slightly. "Blame it on my Xue'er for being too alluring."

Morning light filtered through the gauze curtains, casting a soft glow over the two of them. Qian Renxue, embarrassed and annoyed, tried to break free, but was held even tighter. Feng Yao, looking at her flushed earlobes, couldn't help but add, "Especially when you're drenched in sweat during cultivation."

"You!" Qian Renxue was furious, her golden eyes shimmering with tears, but when she met his smiling gaze, she couldn't hold back and burst out laughing. Outside the window, morning birds chirped and flew by, adding a touch of life to the warm morning. (End of Chapter)