Yun Tian Mountains, Body Sect Residence.
"This… is this really the abode of the Body Sect?!"
A voice full of disbelief, laced with a hint of fascination, suddenly broke the mountain's tranquility. Chrysanthemum Douluo, dressed in beautiful white and with a near-demonic handsome face, gazed with peach-blossom eyes that could stir the soul. The "sect" before him was completely different from what he had imagined, his face full of confusion and amazement.
His surprise was understandable. Today, the Body Sect's fame echoed throughout the land, especially after the news that a mysterious green-clad man had killed Clear Sky Douluo Tang Hao. Anyone who attended the Grand Martial Academy's opening and witnessed the Great Elder's demeanor knew that the terrifying figure who killed Tang Hao was the Body Sect's Great Elder.
Yue Guan had expected a place that, while perhaps not ornate, should be solemn and awe-inspiring, filled with the weight and dignity of an ancient sect. But the legendary Body Sect before him looked so shabby that it was hard to accept.
Ghost Douluo, dressed in black and exuding a cold aura, looked at the quiet village, surprise flickering in his deep eyes. But being calmer than Yue Guan, he did not show much emotion, merely frowning slightly.
Zhang Tao, who was accompanying them, saw both their reactions and spoke calmly, "No need to be surprised, Senior Yue Guan. For inevitable reasons, our sect cannot reveal itself before outsiders. To avoid disaster and focus on development, they settled here in the remote depths of Yun Tian Mountains, keeping everything simple."
"Forgive us for the lack of formality," Zhang Tao said modestly, though his face showed no shame, only a hint of pride. As the saying goes, 'A mountain need not be high; it is famous if there is an immortal.' 'Water need not be deep; it is spiritual if there is a dragon.'
To true top-level powers, external luxury is mere decoration, even a burden. The core of a sect is its people, inheritance, and strength. With the core strength of the Body Sect here, this place was a holy land that no one in the soul master world dared despise.
The pavilions, carved beams, and paintings were only strange to outsiders. Ghost Douluo was silent, then slowly spoke in his hoarse, low voice: "I think… it's quite good."
He looked around at the silent mountains and forests, inhaling the scent of grass and trees, his gaze lingering on the rising smoke. "Sometimes, such places are best."
Compared to the grand yet cold and solemn Spirit Hall's main palace, this small mountain village brought a peace and sense of belonging long lost. It was like finally finding a harbor after drifting for so long—a feeling of "home."
Hong Yue smiled gently and spoke at the right time, "Honored Ghost Douluo, Senior Yue Guan, please go ahead. The sect members heard you were returning today and have been waiting inside for some time."
Everyone nodded, and under the guidance of Zhang Tao and Hong Yue, entered the seemingly ordinary village. After passing several rows of houses, a huge open square paved with green stone slabs appeared.
Several imposing figures were already waiting at the front of the square, evidently having waited a long time. The leader was not tall, but his right arm was unnaturally thick, his palm wide, and his fingers knotted, as if containing terrifying strength.
Upon seeing Ghost Douluo, the Third Elder broke into a beaming smile. "Ha ha ha! Brother Ghost! News of your return from Martial City reached us days ago—the whole sect has been waiting eagerly, and now you're finally home!"
Hong Yue smiled and introduced, "Uncle Ghost, Senior Yue Guan, this is our sect's Third Elder, titled 'Arm of Terror.'"
Ghost Douluo stepped forward respectfully. "I have seen the Third Elder."
The Third Elder lifted him up, patting his shoulder with a fan-like hand full of genuine affection. "No need for such formalities. Just come home."
Soon, the elders behind the trio came forward to greet Gui Mei and Yue Guan. Most of their attention focused on Gui Mei, with curiosity mingled with a sense of recognition and welcome.
Hong Yue introduced them one by one: "This is the Fourth Elder, Chen Zhen, titled 'Golden Body,' and also the father of our young sect master Chen Yi. This is the Fifth Elder, Zhang Wu, titled 'Dragon Fist.' This is the Sixth Elder, Huang Qi, titled 'Fierce Blood.' This is the Eighth Elder, known as 'Soul Boat.'"
…
Chrysanthemum Douluo and Ghost Douluo greeted the elders, feeling a storm of emotions in their hearts. Along with the Seventh Elder and Zhang Tao, the eight elders all bore the title of Douluo, each exuding formidable strength far beyond the average. This was only the inner sect elders present, not counting those at the external sect or Grand Martial Academy. The number of titled Douluo possessed by the Body Sect was truly terrifying, not far behind the deep-rooted Spirit Hall.
After the introductions, the sect's core disciples and juniors were present as well. Unlike the stoic Ghost Douluo, Chrysanthemum Douluo was much more lively, pulling out trinkets and rare items for the children, who gathered around, cheering and calling him "Grandpa Yue Guan," their innocent enthusiasm melting away the haze on his handsome face.
After the greetings, everyone gathered around the main square. A long wooden table covered with clean linen was laden with melons, fruit, barbecue, and mountain wines. Many disciples and family members had already taken their seats, eagerly awaiting the feast—a gathering too large for the formal inner hall to accommodate.
When Chrysanthemum Douluo and Ghost Douluo turned their gaze to the man rising from the main table, their pupils suddenly shrank, and an indescribable shock filled their hearts. The middle-aged man looked ordinary, dressed in plain gray cloth, with a peaceful and somewhat elegant face. But as he stood, an invisible, mountain-like aura spread naturally from him—a pressure reminiscent of the mighty 99th-level invincible Angel Douluo Qian Daoliu.
This was the sect master of the Body Sect—Body Douluo Chu Sanhe.
Chu Sanhe's gaze was gentle as he walked through the crowd and stopped before Ghost Douluo, grasping his cold hand in a heartfelt handshake. "Welcome back! Welcome home!"
He did not allow Ghost Douluo to bow too much, pulling him directly toward the main table. He even greeted the slightly dazed Chrysanthemum Douluo with a bold smile, "Brother Yue Guan, don't be so surprised. Come, sit with us. Today is a great day for our sect—don't leave until you're drunk!"
Chu Sanhe's voice, full of pride and warmth, and the countless kind, welcoming gazes all around, made Ghost Douluo's body tremble slightly under his black robes, his cold nose tinged with an uncontrollable bitterness.
Is this… the feeling of coming home?
Having wandered for half his life, he had long forgotten what that warm current called "belonging" felt like. Yet now, in this moment, it quietly seeped into his long-frozen heart.
...
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