In the secret room, Ning Fengzhi’s eyes snapped open.
For a moment he lay still, dazed, breathing softly. Then he realized—he had fallen asleep directly on the ritual table.
A bitter smile tugged at his lips.
‘So it really was all just a dream…?’
He was about to dismiss the entire encounter with the so-called goddess when—his gaze froze.
Right beside him, on the smooth stone surface of the ritual table, lay something that absolutely did not belong there.
A herb—rested quietly as if it had been placed there by an invisible hand. Below the stalk, dozens of delicate purple tendrils draped like fine wisteria, each leaf so soft and perfectly arranged it seemed sculpted by heaven itself. Above them bloomed a golden tulip, radiant like a miniature sun, releasing a light fragrance that carried both nobility and overwhelming sacredness.
Just looking at it made his soul feel purified.
Ning Fengzhi’s breath hitched.
“This…?”
He didn’t recognize the herb, but he didn’t need to. The memory of that hazy, ethereal voice echoed clearly in his mind.
His heart trembled.
“This was given… by the Angel Goddess.”
Hands steadying, he lifted the Beautiful Silk Tulip with reverence, sat cross-legged, and began absorbing it exactly as instructed.
----
One Hour Later
A powerful surge of soul power burst through his meridians, forming a stable circulation around his body. Ning Fengzhi inhaled sharply as clarity returned.
Then—
“Ha! Ha! Ha!”
He suddenly erupted into laughter, bright, unrestrained, full of disbelief and joy.
“I’ve broken through! I—I have actually broken through Level 80!”
Without hesitation he summoned his martial soul.
The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda materialized—yet it was no longer as it once was.
His eyes widened.
Above the seventh floor, faint but undeniably real, two more floors shimmered into existence.
The pagoda had become a Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda.
“Father… Father, do you see this?” His voice shook.
Fine lines of emotion gathered at the corners of his eyes—tears he didn’t bother hiding.
“For generations… every clan leader carried the pain of incompleteness. We all dreamed of a way to remedy. And today—today I’ve fulfilled that dream!”
His legs nearly gave out from the weight of that realization.
He wiped his eyes, stood, and once again faced the ritual table.
With deep gratitude he began the prayer ritual anew, hoping—begging—to offer his thanks for this miracle.
But this time, no divine voice answered him.
Silence filled the chamber.
Ning Fengzhi remembered the goddess’s last words. A soft smile warmed his face—calm, sincere, resolute.
He spread his hands, speaking into the empty air as if addressing the heavens themselves.
“Awakening the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda… that alone is a blessing beyond measure. Angel Goddess, rest assured—our Seven—no, Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Clan will prove ourselves worthy of your grace.”
His voice echoed gently through the room.
Hearing the loud shout, Chen Xin—who had been stationed anxiously outside—burst through the doors with his sword nearly half-drawn.
“Fengzhi! Are you alright?!”
Ning Fengzhi turned toward him, eyes bright with a joy he could barely contain.
“Elder Chen… I could not feel better than I do now.”
Then, without another word, he summoned his martial soul.
The brilliant Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda shone in his hand—each level shimmering with a divine glow, the eighth and ninth floors faint yet unmistakably real.
Chen Xin froze.
Even as a Titled Douluo, it still took him several seconds to process what he was seeing. His throat tightened, and for a moment he forgot to breathe.
“Your… your martial soul… evolved?”
Ning Fengzhi nodded lightly.
The weight of those words left Chen Xin shaken. He understood better than anyone what this meant—the centuries-old ceiling of their clan had been shattered. The pagoda that had never once risen beyond seven floors… now stood proudly with nine.
After a long moment, Chen Xin steadied his breath and asked the only question that truly mattered:
“Fengzhi… what are your plans now?”
Ning Fengzhi let out a deep sigh, his expression returning to calm and measured seriousness.
“For now… we keep the evolution of my martial soul a complete secret.”
Chen Xin nodded immediately. No one—absolutely no one—could be allowed to know prematurely.
Ning Fengzhi continued, lowering his voice:
“As for this letter from the Twilight Hermit Order… only the two of us will know of its existence.”
His expression darkened slightly.
“I do not know HER stance toward mortal organizations invoking her name. Whether it is devotion… or blasphemy in her eyes. Before we make any move, I want to probe the Twilight Hermit Order first.”
Chen Xin straightened, his voice heavy with resolve.
“Understood. I will fully support you.”
----
Author Notes : This was the reason Gu Rong did not understand Ning Fengzhi’s attempts to probe the Twilight Hermit Order. On the surface, Ning Fengzhi maintained his usual neutral stance toward Spirit Hall, especially since suppression and political pressure under Bibi Dong’s rule had only grown harsher during this period.
---
Meanwhile…
The two men were deep in discussion, completely unaware that someone else had been present—quiet, unnoticed, like a drifting wisp of golden light.
A young golden haired girl was walking away silently.
Qian Renxue approached the clan’s main entrance, where two guards stood ramrod straight, eyes vigilant for any sign of intrusion.
She gave them a graceful, almost serene smile.
“You have done good work.”
With those simple words, she walked past them and disappeared into the distance.
Then the guard who had received the “praise” turned to his partner with a proud grin.
“Thank you for the praise, Mike. We are the best.”
Mike blinked in confusion.
“…What are you talking about?”
They stared at each other, puzzled.
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(Author notes: So we have enough about the past , now we will go to future)