A silence fell over the battlefield, thick and unnatural, like the breath of a storm held in suspense.
No one moved. No one dared speak.
All eyes were fixed on the boy—no, the young man—who stood at the center of the chaos, his spear still gleaming under the high sun. Smoke curled gently from scorched ground, a silent testimony to the power that had just been unleashed.
Two Soul Sages—seasoned warriors who had long since earned their titles—had joined forces to subdue a mere Soul Sect. And yet, in the clash that followed, one of them had nearly lost his life. The boy? Unscathed.
It defied all reason. All training. All understanding of how the world was supposed to work.
"H-he's terrifying..."
"That kid... what is he? He's not human—he's a monster in a boy's skin!"
"How is he this strong?!"
The crowd buzzed in whispers and murmurs, each voice tinged with awe and disbelief, like villagers discovering that the mountain they'd feared was a sleeping dragon all along.
At the heart of it all stood Qian Yu, calm and resolute, his long spear leveled toward the sky where Flender hovered with strained composure. The spear's point never wavered, not even as tension coiled in the air.
"If you wish to continue this fight," Qian Yu said coolly, "then I'll kill him right here and take you on next."
His gaze sharpened like the edge of his weapon.
"Or," he added, "you can kneel, apologize, and I'll let him go."
A collective gasp swept through the bystanders like a gust of wind stirring dry leaves.
Did he just…?
Did he really just ask Flender—the headmaster of Shrek Academy, a Soul Sage revered throughout Soto City—to kneel and apologize?
Impossible. Unthinkable.
A Soul Sage, bowing to a Soul Sect? It shattered every unspoken rule, every tier of pride built over decades.
Flender's jaw tightened. He glanced at Zhao Wuji, who lay unconscious, his life hanging by a thread. The spear at his throat shimmered with quiet menace.
He had no choice.
Bitterly, he bowed his head. "Qian Yu… I apologize. We acted recklessly today. This was our mistake."
But Qian Yu did not so easily relent.
"You didn't hear me," he replied coldly, his voice low and unflinching. "I said kneel."
His gaze darkened. "Or let Shrek Academy suffer the weight of my wrath. If I wanted to erase your entire academy from existence, it wouldn't be difficult."
Flender's lips parted, but no words came.
He hesitated, swallowing his pride as the tip of the spear inched closer—just enough to graze his skin, a warning without blood. Shame and fury warred on his face, turning it pale, then red.
And finally—
Thud.
Both knees hit the ground.
An audible exhale rippled through the crowd. Even the wind seemed to halt for a moment, stunned by what it had witnessed.
Flender—Soul Sage, master of Shrek Academy—had knelt.
To a teenager.
To Qian Yu.
Qian Yu didn't gloat. He merely lowered his spear, slid it behind his back with effortless grace, and turned away, as if what had just happened were no more than a passing breeze.
"You can take him and leave," he said over his shoulder. "But if you come looking for me again… an apology won't be enough next time."
A chill passed through Flender. He lowered his head further. "Understood."
Qian Yu took a step, then paused.
"Wait!" Flender called after him.
The boy turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "What is it?"
Flender hesitated. "Who… who are you, really? With your strength, even the Spirit Hall would name you among their elite—maybe even one of their Holy Sons?"
Qian Yu smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Call me whatever you like," he said. "But know this—crossing me means crossing the Spirit Hall."
His gaze drifted upward.
"Xuan Yi," he called.
In a blur of movement, a white-robed elder appeared beside him, silent and still like falling snow. The air shifted. The elder's presence was immense, suffocating. A single breath from him carried the weight of mountains.
Flender's blood ran cold.
That aura... a Titled Douluo!
Now the truth dawned fully. Not only had he offended a prodigy, but one protected by a Titled Douluo—a guardian of unparalleled power.
And the boy's surname... Qian.
Of course. It all made sense now. A youth of terrifying talent. Backed by a Titled Douluo. A name held in reverence within Spirit Hall itself.
There was no room for doubt.
This boy was the Holy Son of the Spirit Hall.
If this was the future of Spirit Hall… then soon, the entire continent might well belong to them.
Qian Yu's voice cut through Flender's spiraling thoughts.
"A word of advice: Don't test me again. I won't repeat myself."
Flender dropped once more to his knees, lowering his head so deeply it nearly touched the ground. "We understand. This was our mistake. Thank you... for sparing us."
Qian Yu gave a nod. "Xuan Yi. Let's go."
And with that, he left—without fanfare, without hesitation.
Flender remained kneeling long after he was gone, the weight of the moment sinking into his bones.
Eventually, he helped the wounded Zhao Wuji to his feet and hurried back toward Nuoding Academy. Wuji's injuries were severe, but with timely treatment, his arm might yet be saved.
That night, Qian Yu dismissed Xuan Yi with a wave and returned alone to the quiet inn.
Inside, Xiao Wu was still asleep, curled up beneath the soft blankets like a dreaming bunny.
Qian Yu gazed at her for a moment, then slipped into bed beside her. She shifted in her sleep, nuzzling against him, and without a word, he wrapped his arms around her.
By morning, the sunlight pooled gently through the window. Xiao Wu stretched with a sleepy yawn and then—before he could protest—playfully rolled on top of him, straddling his waist.
"Xiao Wu," Qian Yu murmured, raising a brow. "What are you doing?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips.
Qian Yu blinked, then sighed as understanding dawned in her eyes. The kiss lingered—sweet and mischievous.
Later, after their slow, quiet morning together, the two dressed and stepped outside.
They hadn't gone far when they saw the commotion: guards had surrounded the entrance to the Rose Hotel, clearing the streets with military efficiency.
As they emerged, a rotund man in official robes bustled forward with a practiced smile plastered across his face.
"Young Master Qian Yu!" he exclaimed, bowing deeply. "I am the City Lord of Soto. We received word of your presence and have come personally to welcome you."
Qian Yu glanced at the guards. "All this?"
"Ah! Merely to ensure your rest wasn't disturbed, of course," the city lord explained quickly. "We've cleared the street of onlookers. And—if I may be so bold—we've prepared a feast at the City Lord's estate in your honor."
Xiao Wu's ears perked up.
"A feast? With lots of good food?" she asked, eyes sparkling.
"But of course!" the city lord beamed.
Qian Yu gave her a sideways glance.
She nodded eagerly.
He exhaled a soft chuckle. "Alright. Lead the way."
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