After the talk, Qian Daoliu sent Spirit Hall scouts to scour the Star Dou Great Forest, their only objective: locate the rare Soul Beast Dark Gold Terror Claw Bear, a beast known for its terrifying offensive capabilities and defense.
It was not easy to find one, but Qian Renxue’s requirement did not have any limitation on the age, the search was underway.
Meanwhile, Qian Renxue had once again plunged into her daily routine, trying to all in a bid to truly digest powers from the Psychiatrist. As well as to be prepared for her next advancement, because every other day she had to strengthen her will to forget the murmurs she hears during her sleep.
A few peaceful days passed, with the Spirit Hall seemingly calm.
Then, one afternoon, suddenly and without warning, a strange fluctuation burst from deep within the Pope Hall of the Saint’s Residence.
A wave of suction force erupted outward for a brief moment before dying down. It was subtle, far less violent than Qian Daoliu’s breakthrough days ago, but it caused a ripple among sensitive soul masters.
That burst had originated from someone at a lower level than Qian Daoliu’s Peerless Douluo realm, yet still powerful enough to disturb the calm soul power flow in the surroundings. It was a Soul Douluo forming a soul core.
A short time later, from the depths of the Pope Hall, a woman stepped out.
Tall, graceful, and exuding a cold majesty that commanded respect, this was Bibi Dong.
The Saint of Spirit Hall had finally emerged from her long seclusion.
Her purple eyes narrowed as she raised her head and looked in the direction of the Elder’s Hall,
‘Just a few days ago… I sensed a surge of holy power from that direction,’ she thought.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
‘That old fossil Qian Daoliu… don’t tell me he’s also condensed a soul core?’
Bibi Dong's lips curled slightly, and her fingers flexed as she felt the rotation of the newly condensed soul core inside her dantian. Her soul power circulated far more smoothly than before, and her command over it had reached an unprecedented precision.
"So this… is a soul core…" she whispered.
‘This soul core… it’s like an automatic cultivator. Every breath I take feeds more soul power to the core. Every moment strengthens me.’
She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing inward.
Her meridians seemed more open. Her control had reached a new peak. And most miraculous of all, there was no need for conscious absorption of spirit energy. The soul core acted on its own, steadily pulling in power from the world around her.
It was as if she had installed an automatic cultivation machine within herself.
Her voice was soft, but her gaze burned with realization.
"Heh… it won’t be long now," she murmured. “Even Titled Douluo isn’t far off.”
Thinking that she was one step closer to her revenge, a faint but unmistakable purple aura began to ripple from Bibi Dong's body like steam rising from boiling blood. The tiles beneath her feet groaned ever so slightly. However, the violent aura receded just as quickly as it appeared, as though devoured by her own will.
Her eyes, deep and cold, narrowed with restrained hatred.
‘Looks like I’ve been in seclusion for quite a long time…’ she thought, a bitter smirk tugging at her lips. ‘I should go and inform my “master” that I’m out.’
Her teeth clenched slightly at the last word, as if the mere thought of Qian Xunji left a foul taste in her mouth. Her fingers twitched once, before she exhaled slowly, letting her soul power settle.
Without another word, her graceful figure moved, swaying with a noble poise as she stepped fully into the main hall. Her robes, embroidered with subtle spider patterns, rustled like whispers of revenge. Each step echoed softly but held the weight of quiet fury.
The rays of the afternoon sun filtered through the Spirit Hall’s crystalline windows, casting a halo upon her figure, yet the light couldn’t pierce the shadow lingering in her eyes.
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Evening slowly descended over Spirit City, dyeing the sky in warm hues of orange and violet. The golden roofs of the Elder’s Hall glimmered faintly in the sun’s retreat.
Within her private room, Qian Renxue sat under the canopy of a silk-draped pavilion, the shadows of fluttering curtains painting her face with a tranquil mystery.
She was drinking tea and calming her mind after a long day of cultivation, training, and study. A small plate of soft cakes and candied nuts sat before her.
A faint knock echoed through the quiet room.
Knock. Knock.
Qian Renxue, without even turning her head, spoke softly.
“Come in.”
The door creaked open, and Wu Meng entered first, followed by a thin, cautious-looking man dressed in formal robes which she had previously recruited in the Twilight Hermit Order. His expression was serious, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, not from exertion, but nervousness.
Qian Renxue's gaze lingered on the ripples of her tea. Only after setting down her cup with delicate poise did her sharp golden eyes lift to meet the man.
“I hope, you here for something important during my rest time,” she said mildly, her voice like silk hiding needles. “So? Speak.”
The man clasped his hands and bowed low. “Young Master. Saint Bibi Dong has exited her seclusion just this afternoon. As per your prior instructions, we came immediately to report.”
The air turned still for a moment.
Qian Renxue’s lips curved ever so slightly. She picked up a spoon and gently scooped a piece of soft snow cake, placing it on her tongue with unhurried elegance.
“Mn,” she murmured. “She finally came out.”
She savored the sweetness a moment longer before replying, her voice calm and pleasant, yet chilling to the trained ear.
“I believe you remember the next step. There’s some… information she needs to receive, very discreetly.”
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