With the dust settled, Li Chang'an had protected Xiao Wu by sheer strength—and behind him stood both the Pope's Hall and the Elder Hall. The matter, for now, was closed.
After all, who would dare provoke the Holy Son of Spirit Hall—so young, yet bearing seven scarlet soul rings—whose parents were also among the continent's wealthiest? Money is not everything, but without it, nothing moves.
Ning Rongrong temporarily took her leave to return to the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Sect with Ning Fengzhi, Sword Douluo, and Bone Douluo. Meng Yiran was fetched home by her grandparents. Ye Lingling went to find her teacher. Zhu Zhuqing headed back to the Star Luo Empire to handle family affairs.
Liu Erlong returned first to tidy up matters at Crimson Rose Academy—and, for now, she preferred not to see Bibi Dong. Li Chang'an specifically had Miao Ling accompany her for company and protection.
That left Xiao Wu, Hu Liena, and Mu Xi by Li Chang'an's side—fewer fires to put out in Spirit City. As for Tang San and the others, they departed smoothly. Where Tang San would go next, Li Chang'an did not know—surely some god had already arranged the path.
Still, he wondered: with the Abyss showing its hand, why was the Divine Realm silent? A glaring inconsistency—unless the Abyss had somehow masked its presence.
Those concerns would come later. For now, Hu Liena and Mu Xi had places to be. After settling Xiao Wu into his own hotel, Li Chang'an went to the Pope's Hall.
His passage remained unimpeded; no one had the standing to revoke the Holy Son's privileges. He entered her chamber.
Bibi Dong wore a simple lavender dress, long hair loose, casually tied mid-length. She had clearly just bathed: a faint flush on her cheeks, damp hair, beauty undimmed—refined features, flawless skin, poised bearing with a mature allure, long legs, a soft rose-red mouth, clear, luminous eyes. Even without adornment, she was breathtaking.
"What are you doing here? Go keep your little sweetheart company," she said coolly, back to him, voice crisp but chilled.
The image of Li Chang'an risking life and limb for another girl in front of the world still stoked her temper.
"Dong'er, I was wrong. I'm sorry." He stepped in without shame, slipped his arms around her waist from behind, and rested his head on her shoulder.
First rule: admit fault.
"But whatever happens—if any of you were in that same danger—I would stake my life to protect you." His hold tightened, the vow steady.
"Hmph. At least you know your place. But you overlooked one thing," Bibi Dong sighed.
She was the Pope; her heart was not so petty. If he loved her steadfastly, she would not demand the impossible.
"Xiao Wu's mother—I killed her. You…"
Before she could finish, Li Chang'an cut in with the solution he'd prepared. The method was so uncanny it stunned her.
"That works. A hundred-thousand-year ring is precious, but if it resolves the grievance, it is worth it." She let it go with rare ease—only for Li Chang'an to pass her a softly glowing orb.
"Who said we must lose out? Dong'er, take this chance to change a ring. Inside is a god-bestowed million-year soul ring, perfectly compatible with your martial soul. Your cultivation will take a clear step forward."
He had planned to save it for his eighth ring—a universal million-year ring, the very picture of a "cheat." A million-year ring's terror lay in this: not two skills, but four.
But since Bibi Dong would soon relinquish a ring—and a crucial hundred-thousand-year one at that—how could he, as her man, not compensate her?
By his estimate, this ring could push her past a bottleneck—at least toward Rank 98 Titled Douluo. Rank 99 would require more than soul rings: chance, insight, fate—hence the rarity of Peerless Douluo.
"Million-year…?" Even the Pope wavered. Did such a thing truly exist? Yet the pressure emanating from the orb set her heart racing. Still—how could she take it?
"Chang'an, it's too valuable. Hunt another hundred-thousand-year beast with me later. Keep this to push yourself to Spirit Douluo—wouldn't that be perfect?"
"No, Dong'er. You need it more now. I'm not yet at the right moment to advance."
He had burned through his points earlier to exchange soul Ring Fruits—and gifted several more to the girls before they left. He was, in a word, broke.
"You could at least hold onto it…" she murmured, feeling the warmth behind the gesture.
"Take it, Dong'er." He pressed the light into her hand, then drew her gently back against him.
A soft gasp escaped her as she relaxed into his arms, turning to kiss him.
"Dong'er… call me Classmate Li Chang'an, will you?"
"Then… what should I call you?" Eyes closed, she smiled.
"I'll call you… Your Holiness."
"You'll be the death of me…"
"Please?" He paused, teasing.
"Li—Li Chang'an… classmate." She blushed brighter, embarrassment tinged with a novel thrill.
"Yes, Your Holiness," he answered obediently… and the room fell quiet again.
"Classmate Li Chang'an," she whispered at last, "you must work hard."
"Yes, Your Holiness. I'll work hard—and work well."
…
Outside Spirit City, Tang San was stopped by a gray-robed man.
"State your business," Tang San said, wary hand near his Twenty-Four Moonlit Bridges.
"Tang San, son of Haotian Douluo. I've been sent to bring you back to the Clear Sky Sect." The man turned his wrist, revealing a black hammer in his palm.
Haotian Hammer.
A plant of the Haotian within Spirit City—of course.
"The sect? You mean the Clear Sky Sect?" Tang San blinked. The sect wanted him back?
"Yes. The Sect Master commands your immediate return. Your father's whereabouts are unknown; we need any leads you can offer."
Tang San didn't hesitate. "Very well. I'll go."
"You're a rare talent. The Sect Master and elders all say that with proper guidance, you'll be the next Haotian Douluo."
"My thanks."
The two vanished beyond the city. By a twist of fate, Tang San returned to the Clear Sky Sect. With Tang Xiao's full support, his future was unwritten—but when he heard of his father, a hollow ache opened in his chest, as though something had been lost.