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Heaven Dou City, Prince's Residence.
The sunlight stretched Xue Beng's anxious shadow, making it alternately long and short. He paced back and forth in the hall, which was covered with a crimson carpet, his luxurious brocade boots making erratic sounds. Outside the window, the sound of the water clock echoed, each tick like a drumbeat on his taut nerves.
"Why is there still no news?" He looked towards the tightly closed carved door for the umpteenth time, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the jade pendant at his waist. Under the sunlight, the handsome face, usually adorned with a cynical expression, was now clouded with gloom.
The attendants stood in the corner, holding their breath, their breathing barely audible. In the entire hall, only the crisp sound of his jade ornaments clinking against each other and his increasingly hurried footsteps echoed.
Just then, a commotion suddenly erupted at the residence gate. Prince Xue Xing was seen being carried in like a small chicken by a burly, tower-like man, his luxurious princely robes crumpled and disheveled.
"Royal Uncle!" Xue Beng exclaimed, rushing forward in a few strides. At this moment, he could no longer care about this rude action—ever since the Imperial Palace was completely controlled by Xue Qinghe's forces, he, the Fourth Prince, had no choice but to reside in Prince Xue Xing's residence, living on thin ice every day.
Prince Xue Xing staggered when he was put down, but immediately grabbed Xue Beng's arm.
Xue Beng quickly supported the tottering Prince Xue Xing, his voice filled with unconcealed urgency: "Royal Uncle, what's the situation?"
Prince Xue Xing, having been carried at full speed by the Third Elder, was now pale, leaning against a carved pillar, gasping for breath. The Third Elder stood beside him with his arms crossed, stating in a deep voice: "Your guess was correct. The Imperial Palace is under full martial law. It seems they are ready to act."
"Not only that," Prince Xue Xing finally caught his breath, his beard trembling with his rapid breathing, "During today's morning court… Xue Qinghe suddenly dispatched the Royal Knights to strengthen Heaven Dou City's defenses." He gripped Xue Beng's arm tightly, "Once the Knights are in position… that will likely be when they make their move."
Xue Beng's knuckles turned white from clenching, his voice filled with uncontainable anxiety: "We don't have much time left! Royal Uncle, is there really no room for maneuver with Senior Dugu Bo?"
He knew better than anyone that without Poison Douluo's help to detoxify and prolong his father's life, allowing him to personally reveal the truth, all of his actions would be branded as treason.
Prince Xue Xing sighed deeply, the wrinkles on his face appearing even deeper in the sunlight: "That old Poison Douluo, Dugu Bo…" He shook his head, "The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School is too powerful; he doesn't want to get involved in this mess."
Xue Beng's gaze suddenly sharpened like a knife. He slowly clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking crisply: "Now… there's only one way."
"What way?" Prince Xue Xing urgently questioned, a glimmer of hope flashing in his cloudy eyes.
"Please have the three Clear Sky Sect Elders lead us to infiltrate the Imperial Palace," Xue Beng said, enunciating each word, "and forcibly rescue Father, sending him directly to Senior Dugu Bo." A cold, resolute arc formed at the corner of his mouth, "He won't refuse this favor delivered to his doorstep. As long as Father is still alive…"
Without his father's personal imperial edict of succession, no matter how extraordinary Xue Qinghe's methods were, he would never be able to legitimately ascend to that position.
A hint of determination flashed in Xue Beng's eyes as he thought to himself, "If I can provoke Xue Qinghe, forcing her to…"
Prince Xue Xing's pupils suddenly constricted upon hearing this, his aged fingers trembling uncontrollably: "Xue Beng, you… have you truly thought this through?"
"Royal Uncle." Xue Beng suddenly looked up, his eyes burning with a desperate flame, "Rather than dying an unclear death like my eldest and third brothers, it's better to fight with all my might!" He tore off the jade pendant symbolizing his status as a prince and slammed it onto the table, "Even if I bear the infamy of rebellion, I accept it!"
The Third Elder watched with cold eyes, a hint of imperceptible disdain flashing in their depths. They mused, "This little brat is quite ruthless, even willing to scheme with his own father's life for the throne." Their rough fingers unconsciously rubbed together, an alarm bell ringing in their heart: "If he truly gains power, I must be doubly wary of him in the future."
In the eyes of the Clear Sky Sect members, blood ties were heavier than Mount Tai. Every clan member was the Sect's most precious asset; how could they be so easily used as bargaining chips? Xue Beng repeatedly spoke of "saving his father," but in reality, he was merely forcing the emperor's hand—both forcing Xue Qinghe to act and forcing the old emperor to his death.
Xue Beng ignored the unusual look in the Third Elder's eyes. Instead, he bowed respectfully, the sunlight casting a shadow on his lowered eyelashes: "Tonight, this junior is willing to personally lead the way for the three Elders." When he straightened up, his eyes gleamed with desperate resolve, "I ask the three of you to accompany me on a night visit to the Imperial Palace."
The Third Elder snorted coldly, their wide sleeves flapping in the autumn wind. They gave Xue Beng one last deep look, their figure gradually blurring like a ghost: "…Understood." Before the words finished, they had already transformed into a black shadow and vanished, leaving only a few plane tree leaves, shaken loose by the force, slowly drifting down.
Xue Beng maintained his bowing posture until he was certain the Third Elder's aura had completely disappeared, then slowly straightened his back. In his eyes, as he looked towards the Imperial Palace, a turbulent undercurrent surged.
A mocking, cold smile played on Xue Beng's lips, a hint of disdain flashing in his eyes. Having feigned being a profligate since childhood, how could he have missed that touch of contempt in the Third Elder's gaze?
"Heh," he turned to look out the window, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the jade pendant at his waist, "a group of homeless dogs beaten by Spirit Hall, forced to hide everywhere." The sunlight cast mottled shadows on his sinister face, "If not for Tang Yuehua's maneuvering in Heaven Dou City, they'd probably be a bunch of bumpkins who couldn't even get food."
He suddenly clenched the jade pendant tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.
Thinking of this, Xue Beng's gaze inadvertently became more solemn. He looked towards the majestic outline of the Imperial Palace in the distance, his brows deeply furrowed.
"The strength of these Clear Sky Sect Elders…" he murmured softly, his fingertips unconsciously tapping on the window sill. Although he didn't know their specific cultivation, based on his understanding of that old fox Ning Fengzhi—if Sword Douluo and Bone Douluo both arrived, the Sect Master of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School would surely come in person as well.
Prince Xue Xing looked at Xue Beng's unpredictable profile, sighed deeply, and placed his aged hand heavily on his shoulder: "Child, Royal Uncle understands." His voice was filled with endless weariness and tenderness, "Now, this old bone of mine can't be of much help."
He tremblingly took out a tiger tally from his Pregnant, gleaming with a cold metallic luster in the sunlight: "The three hundred personal guards in the residence are all skilled Spirit Ancestors and above…" He paused, then added: "And there's a Spirit Saint guest Elder who owed me a life back then. Let him accompany you into the palace."
Xue Beng suddenly looked up, meeting Prince Xue Xing's cloudy but firm gaze. The old man patted his shoulder, his wrinkles hiding untold vicissitudes: "If… if things are impossible…" His voice suddenly choked, "Then let him take you and kill your way out. The farther you run, the better."
Under the sunlight, Xue Beng's nose suddenly felt sour. He bowed deeply, his forehead almost touching the ground, and only straightened up after a long time. When he turned, the fist in his sleeve was already clenched white, and his resolute retreating figure cast a determined shadow down the long corridor.
On the other side, inside the Tang Sect's main hall, Tang San's brows were tightly furrowed: "Aunt, why am I not participating this time?" His voice was filled with unconcealed urgency, his eyes flashing with confusion.
The change in imperial power was both a risk and an opportunity for the nascent Tang Sect. With the support of the Clear Sky Sect, the probability of success should not be small.
A complex expression appeared between Tang Yuehua's brows, her fingertips unconsciously rubbing the rim of her teacup. How could she not understand that Tang San's participation in this operation would greatly benefit the Tang Sect? But every time this thought arose, an unspeakable worry welled up in her heart.
"Little San…" She sighed softly, her gaze falling on Tang San's eyebrows, which were seven parts similar to that person's. If her seventh uncle were to see this face—as soon as the thought arose, the teacup in her hand trembled slightly, splashing a few drops of amber tea onto the table, where they spread out.
Tang Yuehua gently put down the teacup, the porcelain making a crisp sound as it touched the sandalwood. She gazed at Tang San, her eyes revealing the unique concern of an Elder: "Little San, you must understand, this is not an ordinary Spirit Master competition. A Titled Douluo can advance and retreat freely, but if you get involved…"
She rose and walked to the window, the sunlight outlining her elegant silhouette with a golden edge: "If it succeeds, the Tang Sect might get a share. But if it fails…" When she turned, the dark patterns on her palace dress shimmered in the sunlight, "Will the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School tolerate a hostile force taking root in Heaven Dou City?"
Her fingers gently caressed the window sill, her voice becoming even lower: "The Clear Sky Sect has no retreat, which is why they are taking such a risk. But your Tang Sect…" Her words suddenly paused, her gaze falling on the newly planted flowers and plants in the courtyard, "These young seedlings cannot withstand a storm."
Tang San fell into thought upon hearing this, his fingers unconsciously rubbing Twenty Four Moonlit Bridges. His aunt's words had indeed enlightened him—the Sect was bound by blood, and even without taking risks, the Tang Sect could benefit.
"I understand." He looked up, the anxiety in his eyes replaced by determination. Tang Yuehua reached out with satisfaction, gently stroking his hair.
"What you need to do now," Tang Yuehua's voice was gentle yet firm, "is to ensure the Tang Sect stands strong amidst this storm." Her gaze swept over the Hidden Weapons hanging on the wall. "Once you are powerful enough—" Her words were left unfinished, but Tang San understood their profound meaning.
Tang San nodded solemnly, his voice steady and strong: "Aunt, I understand what I need to do."
Tang Yuehua gazed at her nephew, who already possessed the demeanor of a Sect Master. His sharply defined profile gradually merged with her memory of Tang Hao. Complex emotions flickered in her eyes as she softly said, "Now you are the Sect Master of a Sect, bearing the future of the entire Sect on your shoulders."
Before she finished speaking, Tang San suddenly looked up, his deep eyes, identical to Tang Hao's, gleamed with resolute light: "Aunt, I promise you." His right hand unconsciously touched his chest, "One day, I will make Father return to the Clear Sky Sect with dignity."
Tang Yuehua's eyes instantly welled up. Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted Tang San's collar: "Good child." Her voice was as soft as a sigh, "Aunt has always believed that you can achieve what none of us could."
Inside the Crown Prince's East Palace.
Qian Renxue, dressed in a plain white nightgown, paced back and forth in the bedchamber. The gilded floor tiles reflected her light yet restless steps. Her usually calm golden eyes now shimmered, and her fingertips unconsciously stroked the subtle patterns on her sleeves. Years of lurking, countless days and nights of forbearance, would finally culminate in the ultimate answer tonight.
"Xue'er." Feng Xiao leaned against a carved pillar, watching his young master's rare display of agitation, and couldn't help but chuckle. The next second, he appeared like a Gui Mei, spreading his arms and pulling her firmly into his embrace. "My little ancestor," his smiling voice whispered in her ear, "if you keep pacing like this, my eyes will go blurry."
Qian Renxue looked up, her golden hair flowing like water through Feng Xiao's fingers. She rarely showed such a girlish Delicate, her red lips slightly pouted: "A full twenty years..." Her voice carried an irrepressible joy, "I can finally shed this disguise, and you won't even let me be happy for a moment?"
Feng Xiao's slender fingers ran through her brilliant golden hair, but his gaze gradually grew serious: "Xue'er." He suddenly tightened his arms around her waist, "The closer we get to the finish line, the more careful we must be. I always feel... tonight won't be that simple."
Feng Xiao's fingers unconsciously tightened, leaving a few wrinkles on Qian Renxue's brocade robe. Although Senior Dugu had already been informed, the thought of Tang San being a fellow transmigrator still sent a chill down his spine.
Despite having designed to weaken Tang San's opportunities, that boy still emerged from the Hell Road, covered in blood. This strange luck made him wary.
Qian Renxue looked at Feng Xiao's tense expression and couldn't help but smile, her slender fingertip gently tapping his nose: "What? Are you worried that old fox Ning Fengzhi will come to stir up trouble?"
Feng Xiao frowned slightly, his fingers unconsciously stroking the jade pendant at his waist: "It's not impossible."
"Don't worry~" Qian Renxue proudly lifted her chin, her golden hair shimmering in the candlelight, "I've already sent people to inquire. I heard Ning Fengzhi took Chen Xin and Ning Rongrong to hunt for spirit rings." A hint of cunning flashed in her eyes, "Since he knows your true identity but chose to remain silent, he must have already—"
"Hunting for spirit rings at this time?" Feng Xiao suddenly interrupted, his eyes sharply narrowing.
Qian Renxue's smile instantly froze, her red lips slightly parted: "You mean—" Her voice abruptly turned cold, "Ning Fengzhi might be playing some trick?"
Feng Xiao slowly shook his head: "With Ning Fengzhi's cunning, if he truly intended to acquiesce, why wouldn't he come to congratulate you, his favorite disciple? And help out a bit?" A glint flashed in his eyes, "The Sect Master of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, with his wisdom, would never miss such an easy favor."
His gaze gradually deepened, as various possibilities rapidly flashed through his mind. Suddenly, a thought struck him like lightning—"Clear Sky Sect!"
Qian Renxue was startled at first, then covered her lips and chuckled softly: "Little Feng, are you perhaps too nervous? Just those—"
Feng Xiao, however, didn't respond, his frown deepening. Ning Fengzhi's unusual silence these past few days now formed a clear clue in his mind.
Feng Xiao gazed at the flickering candlelight, his voice low like a murmur: "That old fox... I hope not too many of them come."
Qian Renxue's expression suddenly changed. Her originally bright eyes instantly froze into ice. She knew Feng Xiao too well—for him to be so wary, the situation was likely more severe than imagined.
"Xue'er," Feng Xiao suddenly turned, placing his hands on her shoulders, "send word down: no one is to step into the Imperial Palace without your personal confirmation—including those holding your token." His fingertips were slightly cold, "Please have the two Elders guard Xue Ye's bedchamber day and night, go now."
Qian Renxue's red lips trembled slightly, but she ultimately didn't ask further. She merely parted her lips, and streams of spirit power, as her lips moved, transformed into invisible sound transmissions. Outside the hall, the orderly clanking of armor immediately resounded, and the entire East Palace began to operate swiftly like a precise mechanism.
Qian Renxue's fingertips trembled slightly, her voice so soft it was almost carried away by the breeze: "Little Feng... will the Clear Sky Sect truly come?"
Feng Xiao gazed at Xue Ye's bedchamber in the distance, his eyes as sharp as knives: "Eight or nine times out of ten." His voice was heavy, "At present, within Heaven Dou territory, only the Clear Sky Sect has the confidence to contend with Spirit Hall. Coupled with Ning Fengzhi's unusual behavior these past few days..." His fingertips unconsciously rubbed together, "Now, I'm just not sure how many Elders they've sent."
Qian Renxue's face gradually lost color in the sunlight. She remembered her father's demise, and now her own painstaking twenty-year chess game... A trace of blood appeared on her bitten red lips. Even if she sought reinforcements from within the hall now, it would probably be too late.
Qian Renxue gently tugged Feng Xiao's sleeve, the sunlight casting a soft golden glow on her delicate profile: "Little Feng... why don't you go to Spirit Hall for help?" Her voice carried a rare hint of hesitation.
Feng Xiao suddenly turned at her words, his fingertip lightly tapping her smooth forehead: "What thoughts are running through that little head of yours? Do you think I don't know?" His tone was filled with helpless indulgence, "Xue'er, even if tonight's efforts fail—" He suddenly lowered his voice, "Our foundation, built over many years in Heaven Dou, wouldn't easily crumble, would it?"
Qian Renxue's pupils constricted slightly, then she suddenly understood: "You mean Ning Fengzhi?"
"That old fox," Feng Xiao suddenly chuckled, his fingers twirling a strand of her golden hair playfully, "is probably holding a teacup right now, waiting for us to come negotiate terms." The gentle breeze carried his smiling voice away between the pillars, "After all... businessmen are best at playing both sides."
A flicker of struggle crossed Qian Renxue's eyes, her fingertips unconsciously tightening on her sleeve: "Little Feng... why don't we go see him now?" Her voice revealed her unwillingness—she truly couldn't accept twenty years of hard work going to waste like this.
Feng Xiao, however, gently shook his head, the sunlight casting a faint shadow between his brows: "Going now would only make Ning Fengzhi demand an exorbitant price." He helplessly curved his lips, "The terms he'd offer would probably be unacceptable even to you and Supreme Pontiff."
"You haven't even discussed it, how do you know—" Qian Renxue didn't finish her sentence when she saw Feng Xiao suddenly reveal a mischievous smile.
"I bet," he deliberately drew out his words, "that old fox will likely demand that I marry Ning Rongrong."
Qian Renxue's expression suddenly changed at his words, and she suddenly felt that the great undertaking she had painstakingly managed for twenty years didn't seem so important anymore. She abruptly reached out and pinched Feng Xiao's ear, her fingertips trembling slightly: "At a time like this, I see you're quite happy, aren't you?" Her tone carried a hint of annoyance, yet also a subtle tension.
Feng Xiao took the opportunity to grasp her wrist, his touch so gentle it could melt: "As long as I'm with you..." He gently placed her hand over his heart, "Every day, I'm incredibly happy."
Qian Renxue's cheeks instantly flushed crimson, even the tips of her ears dyed a faint pink. She indignantly pulled her hand away: "I'm talking about something serious!" As she turned, her hair brushed past Feng Xiao's nose, carrying a faint scent of orchids.
...
"Besides," a glint flashed in Feng Xiao's eyes, and a confident curve appeared at the corner of his mouth, "if the Clear Sky Sect only sends one or two Elders, they might even become our prey."
Qian Renxue nodded slightly, a thoughtful expression appearing in her golden eyes. Seeing this, Feng Xiao gently stroked her hair: "It's still early. I'll make a trip to the Sunset Forest to ask Senior Dugu for some help."
"Mm." Qian Renxue readily agreed. Remembering her tacit approval of Feng Xiao's closeness with Dugu Yan, she naturally felt this favor should be repaid. Her fingertips unconsciously stroked the jade pendant at her waist, which still retained the warmth of Feng Xiao's palm.
The breeze suddenly picked up, and Feng Xiao's figure had already transformed into a wisp of smoke, vanishing into the sunlight. Qian Renxue gazed in the direction he had left, her red lips pressed together—this gamble, in the end, would still be decided by strength.