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

Ye Lingling then realized her lapse in composure and hurriedly withdrew her hand, her fair face instantly flushing red. She lowered her head and stirred the soup in the bowl, her long silver hair falling down, just enough to cover her burning ear tips.

Feng Yao pretended not to notice, casually picking up a piece of tender fish and putting it in his mouth. Only the faint smile at the corner of his mouth betrayed his good mood. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting dappled shadows on the dining table between them, making the subtle atmosphere exceptionally warm.

The noise of the cafeteria seemed to fade away, leaving only the crisp sound of cutlery clinking. Ye Lingling secretly glanced up and noticed that Feng Yao's profile, focused on his meal, looked exceptionally handsome in the light and shadow, causing her heart to beat even faster.

Ye Lingling's fingers gripped the edge of her robe tightly, her knuckles turning slightly white. She took a deep breath, finally mustering the courage to raise her eyes, her voice as soft as a willow catkin: "Xiao Feng... what do you think of me?"

As soon as she finished speaking, she lowered her head, her long silver hair falling down to cover her flushed cheeks. The food on the plate had long since gone cold, reflecting her panicked and evasive image.

Feng Yao's chopsticks hovered in mid-air, the smile on his lips gradually freezing. The noise of the cafeteria seemed to suddenly fade away, leaving only his own rapidly beating heart. He noticed that Ye Lingling's fingertips were trembling slightly.

“Sister Lingling,” he put down his chopsticks, his voice much deeper than usual, “you are the gentlest girl I have ever met.” He gently lifted her chin with his fingertips, making her look directly into his eyes.

Sunlight streamed through the gap between them, casting overlapping shadows on the ground. Feng Yao gently wiped the soup stain from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, whispering, "Like a nine-hearted begonia, seemingly aloof," his fingers tracing her hair to the hairpin, "it actually holds the most healing power."

Ye Lingling's eyelashes trembled like butterfly wings, casting dappled shadows on her porcelain-white skin. She suddenly grabbed Feng Yao's wrist as he was about to pull away, her fingertips turning slightly white from the force: "Then...you like it?"

Before she could finish speaking, a series of hurried footsteps approached, and Ning Rongrong's clear voice, as melodious as a silver bell, rang out: "Xiao Feng, I heard you—"

Their eyes met in the air, and time seemed to stand still. Ning Rongrong stared at the two for a moment, the sunlight casting a golden rim behind her, making her slender figure appear even more frail. Her gaze lingered on their clasped hands, and a sudden, inexplicable pang of sadness welled up in her chest, as if something of hers had been snatched away.

A sycamore leaf falling outside the window got stuck in the crack of the door, and the noise from the cafeteria suddenly seemed to fade into the distance.

Ning Rongrong unconsciously rubbed her fingers behind her back, forcing a smile: "Am I...too late?" Her voice trembled without her even realizing it. The breeze made her skirt sway slightly, and the toes of her shoes unconsciously scraped the ground.

Ye Lingling hurriedly pulled her hand back, her long silver hair cascading down like a waterfall with the movement. Feng Yao, on the contrary, breathed a sigh of relief, using a light cough to cover up his lapse in composure: "Rongrong, is something wrong?" But out of the corner of his eye, he unconsciously glanced at Ye Lingling's already bright red ear tips, which were particularly noticeable against her silver hair.

Ning Rongrong lowered her eyes, her voice softer than usual: "Nothing." Her toes unconsciously traced circles on the ground. "I just heard you were back, and I heard about how you've changed." She looked up, forcing a bright smile. "I was curious, so I came to see."

Sunlight streamed through the window behind her, casting dappled shadows on her delicate profile. Feng Yao noticed that she had specially changed into the magnificent robes of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School today, and the jeweled hairpin in her hair shimmered with tiny sparkles in the sunlight—this was clearly not a spur-of-the-moment choice.

The air in the cafeteria seemed to freeze, and the three fell into an awkward silence. Feng Yao opened his mouth, but didn't know how to break the awkwardness.

Ye Lingling gently put down her chopsticks, her silver hair falling as she lowered her head, obscuring her flushed cheeks. She whispered to Feng Yao, "Xiao Feng, I...I'm full. You eat slowly." Her voice was almost inaudible. "I have classes scheduled by the academy this afternoon, I...I have to go now."

As she spoke, she hurriedly stood up, but accidentally knocked over the soup bowl beside her. Feng Yao quickly caught it, and their fingers touched again unintentionally, then simultaneously recoiled as if electrocuted.

"Be careful." Before Feng Yao could finish speaking, Ye Lingling had already hurried away, leaving only a faint floral fragrance lingering in the air. Her back view appeared somewhat flustered, her silver hair shimmering softly in the sunlight and swaying gently with her rapid steps.

Watching Ye Lingling's hurried departure, Feng Yao turned to look at Ning Rongrong, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside him. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting dappled shadows on the dining table between the two.

He sighed inwardly, unsure how to begin speaking to the bright young woman before him. His fingertips unconsciously traced the edge of his plate as Feng Yao lowered his eyes—he had indeed schemed against Oscar for Qian Renxue's sake, that was an undeniable fact. Of course, he had also indirectly altered the fate of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School in the original story.

"Rongrong, have you eaten?" Feng Yao asked softly, his voice tinged with hesitation, his slender fingers unconsciously tracing the lines on the chopsticks.

Ning Rongrong snapped out of her reverie, the colorful glass hair ornament refracting tiny sparkles in the sunlight. She nodded, her voice a few decibels softer than usual: "I ate." Her fingers twisted the delicate embroidery on her skirt.

Feng Yao quickly changed the subject: "Did you come here to cultivate with me?" He shoveled down a few mouthfuls of rice, feigning nonchalance, and said, "Wait a moment, it'll be ready soon."

The sycamore leaves rustled outside the window. Ning Rongrong, noticing Feng Yao's deliberately evasive gaze, softly said, "No need." She forced a smile. "I just happened to be passing by and came to take a look. It really is different." As she stood up, her skirt swept across the corner of the table, bringing with it a sycamore leaf that had drifted in unnoticed.

Before she finished speaking, Ning Rongrong had already turned and walked away quickly. She walked faster and faster, eventually jogging, her colorful glass hair ornaments drawing a dazzling streak of light in the sunlight.

Feng Yao subconsciously stood up, but only saw her hurried figure disappear around the corner of the cafeteria.

Looking in the direction Ning Rongrong disappeared, Feng Yao gave a helpless bitter smile and muttered to himself, "That girl ruined my plans and ran off first."

He shook his head, his long, slender fingers tapping lightly on the table. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting dappled shadows on his handsome profile.

"Very well. This is fine too." Feng Yao sighed softly, slowly got up, and carried "Fuxi" towards his room.

Soon, in the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, in the sect leader's study.

Ning Fengzhi was reviewing the sect's records with a pen, the scent of sandalwood rising from his desk. Suddenly, with a "bang," the door was violently pushed open.

"Rongrong?" Ning Fengzhi looked up in surprise, only to see his daughter rush in, her glass skirt fluttering with her hurried steps.

"Dad, I don't want to go to the Heavenly Dou Royal Academy anymore." Ning Rongrong got straight to the point, her voice filled with an unusual firmness.

Ning Fengzhi's brows furrowed, when the space beside him suddenly distorted. Gu Rong stepped out from the void and whispered a few words in his ear. As Bone Douluo narrated, a look of realization gradually appeared on Ning Fengzhi's refined face.

"I see." The wolf-hair brush in his hand paused on the Xuan paper, spreading a blot of ink. Outside the window, an autumn wind swept fallen leaves across the pavilion, adding to the desolation of this sudden turn of events. Ning Fengzhi gazed at his daughter's pouting profile, his fingertips lightly tapping the table. Now that the potential crisis of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School had been alleviated to some extent, he naturally had enough time to choose the most suitable candidate for his daughter. Although Feng Yao was exceptionally talented and indeed a rare talent, as the sect leader of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, how could he allow his precious daughter to suffer such injustice?
Just as he was about to agree, hurried footsteps suddenly sounded outside the study. A sect disciple's respectful voice rang out through the door: "Sect Master, there is important news to report."

"Hmph!" Ning Rongrong slammed her teacup down on the table, the spilled tea leaving a stain on the precious sandalwood. Gu Rong quickly stepped forward to soothe her, his withered hand gently patting her shoulder: "Rongrong, be good, tell Grandpa Gu what's wrong."

Ning Fengzhi rubbed his temples helplessly and called out towards the door, "Come in." His voice was tinged with weariness. Ginkgo leaves drifted down outside the window, mirroring his chaotic thoughts.

A disciple of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School respectfully entered the study and bowed to the three in turn: "Sect Master, Elder Bone, Miss."

Ning Fengzhi put down the wolf-hair brush in his hand and said in a deep voice, "Speak."

"Yes." The disciple bowed slightly. "We have a lead on Oscar, whom you previously instructed us to find."

Before she could finish speaking, Ning Rongrong's teacup clattered to the ground, splashing tea that soaked her delicate skirt. A glint flashed in Gu Rong's eyes, and his thin fingers unconsciously clenched. Ning Fengzhi slowly rose, the sunlight streaming through the window casting his long shadow onto the bookshelf behind him; the heavy books seemed to hold their breath in that instant.

"Continue," Ning Fengzhi said softly, yet the temperature in the entire study seemed to drop several degrees. The disciple unconsciously swallowed, fine beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

“Our men discovered his trail in the far north,” the disciple reported cautiously. “He was traveling with a strange woman. When our men tried to bring him back…” He paused, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, “a powerful expert at least at the Soul Douluo level secretly intervened.”

Ning Fengzhi tapped the table lightly with his long, slender fingers. Before he could speak, Ning Rongrong suddenly stood up, her long, flowing dress causing the coffee table to overturn: "How could he be with another woman?" Her voice trembled uncontrollably.

"Please forgive me, Miss, I truly do not know." The disciple lowered his head in fear and looked to Ning Fengzhi for help.

A gust of cold wind swept in through the window, scattering the documents on the desk. Gu Rong stroked his beard thoughtfully, while Ning Fengzhi reached out and pressed his hand on his daughter's slightly trembling shoulder: "Rongrong," his voice gentle yet authoritative, "Let your disciple finish speaking first."

Ning Rongrong bit her lower lip and sat back in her chair, her fingertips digging deeply into her palms. The seven-colored glass hair ornament reflected chaotic spots of light in the sunlight, just like her chaotic emotions at this moment.

"Could you discern the origins of that expert?" Ning Fengzhi's voice remained gentle, but his knuckles tapped the table with a dull thud.

The disciple lowered his head in shame: "This subordinate is incompetent. That person remained hidden in the shadows, only intimidating us with their soul power, without revealing their true martial soul form." He knelt on one knee, "We couldn't even tell whether the other party was male or female."

The study fell silent, save for Ning Rongrong's rapid breathing. She gripped her skirt tightly, her nails digging into her palms. Gu Rong sighed, his withered hand gently resting on her shoulder, but he felt the girl's frail body trembling slightly.

Outside the window, a north wind swirled withered leaves, rustling against the windowpane. Ning Fengzhi gazed at his daughter's pale profile, then suddenly waved for his disciples to leave: "Continue the investigation, but... do not alert them."

The disciple of the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile School felt as if he had been granted a pardon. He hurriedly bowed and left the study, making sure to gently close the door behind him as he left.

As the footsteps faded into the distance, Ning Rongrong finally collapsed. Having suffered two blows in one day, her petite body trembled slightly, and her glassy eyes welled up with tears.

"Rongrong." Gu Rong was about to reach out to comfort her, but the girl had already lifted her skirt and rushed out the door.

"boom--"

The sound of a door slamming shut echoed from afar, causing the wind chimes in the corridor to jingle erratically. Ning Fengzhi stared at the teacup his daughter had overturned as she left; the amber tea was slowly dripping down the edge of the table, spreading a dark stain on the expensive carpet.

Gu Rong gazed at the still slightly trembling door: "Feng Zhi, about this matter..."

Ning Fengzhi didn't answer, but gently picked up the glass hairpin that Ning Rongrong had dropped in her panic. The delicate patterns on the hairpin left shallow marks on his palm, just like the worry his daughter had etched into his heart at that moment.

In a strange town in the far north, twilight enveloped the crooked wooden buildings. The lanterns lining the streets glowed faintly, but a hint of blood seemed to seep through the light, distorting the shadows of passersby.

Two travelers, standing out from their surroundings, slowly walked towards the town entrance. The man in the lead wore a gray cloak and was extremely burly; the boy beside him wore a mask, revealing a sharply defined jawline.

As they stepped into the tavern in the town center, the noisy hall fell silent. The sullen eyes of the patrons swept back and forth between the two, and even the owner behind the bar paused in his work of wiping glasses.

The gray-robed man tossed a gold soul coin stained with dark red blood onto the bar. The coin spun and made an unsettling buzzing sound, leaving a shallow bloodstain on the wooden countertop.

"A Bloody Mary, please."

Tang Xiao's voice was hoarse and low, these words bringing him back to the days years ago when he traveled with Tang Hao. The waiter behind the bar expressionlessly collected the bloodstained gold coin, his movements chillingly practiced. A moment later, a glass of crimson, murky liquid was pushed in front of him, its surface covered with eerie foam and emitting a rusty, metallic odor.

Tang Xiao turned to look at Tang San beside him, a hint of pity flashing in his eyes. The boy's face looked even more sickly under the eerie lights of the tavern.

"Drink it," Tang Xiao said in a low voice, his tone resolute and leaving no room for refusal. His broad hand rested on Tang San's shoulder, and he could clearly feel the boy's body trembling.

In a corner of the tavern, several drunkards were staring greedily at the Bloody Mary. Tang San took a deep breath, reached for the cold glass, and downed it in one gulp.

(End of this chapter)