While Lin Yuan was grieving for his loss of brew, Bibi Dong was lying on her bed slightly tipsy.
Hick.
From drinking too much alcohol.
Two months later
Bibi Dong sat by the open window of her private chambers, a gentle breeze fluttering the sheer curtains like ghostly veils. The pale light of the moon bathed the room in silver hues, glinting off the facets of a crystalline wine glass filled with a liquid as red as blood.
Bibi Dong swirled the wine with practiced grace, the crimson liquid tracing lazy circles against the glass like a whirlpool of sin. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from the alcohol or the solitude, none could say. She took a slow sip, sharp, bitter, but strangely comforting.
Her eyes, usually cold and commanding, softened slightly as they hovered over the booklet in her other hand.
The booklet crackled faintly as her fingers tightened. While she was staring at the booklet, her mind was elsewhere.
She wasn't reading, her eyes merely skimmed the lines while her thoughts drifted. She recalled that conversation with , Qian Xunji, her so called master.
There was once a time she respected that man more than anything else in this world.
Now that man is the person she detests most in this world. The one she had vowed to kill with her own hands someday.
Yet, like a venomous flower hiding its thorns, she still played the role of an obedient disciple.
She remembered his voice yesterday day, filled with insufferable pride.
"Spirit Hall will achieve unprecedented glory with this Soul Core cultivation method. Our soul masters will become stronger than ever before."
At that moment, her fingers had clenched so tightly that her nails pierced her own palm, blood oozing silently down her fingers, unnoticed.
She felt her revenge will be farther away if the Spirit Hall gets stronger.
But it was the next sentence that nearly shattered her carefully maintained mask.
"This idea, this entire cultivation method, originated from our daughter. That's what Father said."
Her face had twitched. Just for an instant. The calm, the submission, the perfect disciple act, nearly crumbled. She had to turn away, feigning contemplation, so he wouldn't see the rage, the pain, the storm in her heart.
'That angel spawn is getting in the way of my revenge.'
Now, under the pale moonlight, she sat in silence, holding the report in one hand, the blood-colored wine swirling in the other. The crimson liquid reflected in her eyes like flickering flame. Her cheeks were flushed from drink, but her eyes were haunted, distant.
She took a sip, the cool wine sliding down her throat like a razor hidden in silk.
The booklet lay open before her, filled with intricate diagrams and notes detailing the formation of a Soul Core, a method that could elevate a Titled Douluo to an entirely new realm of power.
' But why did I receive the news of her achievement from others and not from hers.'
Her gaze blurred.
'Yes! Because it is me that made sure she stays away.'
Was it pain? Confusion? Sorrow?
She wasn't sure. But the tears came nonetheless.
Silent and unbidden it was streaming down her cheeks and falling onto the pages like tiny bloodstains.
Drip. Drip.
Drops splattered the corner of the parchment, smudging the ink.
'Is it the alcohol… making me emotional?' she wondered bitterly.
She laughed quietly to herself, a dry, broken sound.
'I… I should try this cultivation method.'
She completely ignored the bold warning on the first page:
Only Soul Masters at Rank 90 and above should attempt this technique. The soul power below this threshold lacks the necessary condensation and purity required to form a core.
But she didn't care.
With that reckless thought, she sat cross-legged, the booklet resting beside her, wine cup abandoned.
She focused and her soul power surged, rotating rapidly as she attempted to compress it all toward her dantian, willing it to coalesce into a spherical form. The vortex began to spin, faster and faster, until her meridians trembled from the strain.
But it wasn't enough.
Suddenly, her eyes snapped open.
They locked onto the massive wooden barrel in the corner of her room, wine. A mystical brew brimming with the essence of soul power she had stolen from Lin Yuan.
That child had felt weird, the moment she met her. He had sent Niu , competent shadow guard to tail him, but he did not find anything.
Then one day, she found a Soul Douluo hiding and observing Lin Yuan due to her superior perception. Using her superior cultivation she masked her soul power and went for a search.
A personal search through his room led her to find two wine barrels. She tried it and found small sip of one can give her a boost in soul power cultivated for a few days.
The wine never gave a smell when she found it, but only knew its' effect after she tried it herself. She knew she had found a treasure.
She had been drinking the wine gradually, letting it push her cultivation forward.
Over the past few months, her soul power had risen two full levels.
She was now Level 85.
But at this moment, she didn't care about moderation, didn't consider the risk of forcefully breaking through too fast.
Without hesitation, she stood, staggered once, and then gripped the barrel tightly. She lifted it with both arms and began to drink directly from the source, letting the potent liquid burn down her throat and flood her meridians.
Soul power surged within her like a tide crashing against a dam.
The vortex than began to spin faster.
'Faster.'
She dropped the barrel, spilling wine across the floor like blood, and resumed her position.
She sat back down with her eyes closed, her breathing calm.
This was the beginning of Bibi Dong's long seclusion while holding a desperate, silent struggle with her own emotions.