Inside a lavish private hall of the Spirit Hall Branch of Heaven Dou City, the scent of incense lingered in the air, blending with aged wood and faint traces of divine oils. Golden motifs of the Seraphim lined the walls, glowing softly in the filtered light.
Salas, one of the four Platinum Bishops of Spirit Hall, wore his formal robes with practiced ease. His silver hair was slicked back neatly, his posture refined and authoritative.
He smiled, an amiable, calculated expression.
"Young Master, your visit here is a great honor. Spirit Hall welcomes you to Heaven Dou City."
Across from him, Qian Renxue sat quietly in her travel cloak, her posture regal yet relaxed. Her golden hair spilled down her back, and her purple eyes calmly watched the man before her.
'So this is Salas,' she thought gazing at the old man in front of her
'Level 85—Soul Douluo. A man with authority over many of Spirit Hall's external branches'
Salas tilted his head slightly, his voice smooth.
"May I know the reason for your visit, Young Master?"
Qian Renxue didn't answer with words.
Instead, she reached into her sleeve and took out a simple candle, slender, unmarked, but faintly inscribed with subtle runes only visible when light hit them just right. She placed it on the low table between them and lit the wick with a flick of her finger.
The small flame flickered gently, casting elongated shadows on the wall. But the moment it ignited, the atmosphere in the room shifted.
Qian Renxue's mental power which was much larger than a Titled Douluo flared, dense, refined, and suffocating.
Salas stiffened. He was no weakling, but he couldn't tell whether the pressure that gripped him came from the child sitting in front of him or Ghost Douluo who was staring at him
Qian Renxue's voice was calm, almost whisper-soft.
"First... look at the flame."
Salas found himself obeying instinctively, eyes drawn to the dancing light. The flicker of the flame was steady, almost rhythmic. Left, right, left again, each sway etched deeper into his vision.
His breath slowed and his focus more narrowed.
'...Strange,' he thought distantly. 'Why... why does it feel so hard to look away?'
Qian Renxue's beyonder's abilities activated which coiled like a serpent, delicate yet merciless, wrapping around his consciousness with practiced precision. Subtle mental threads laced into his thoughts, not controlling, but only guiding.
Then she spoke again, calm, firm, in a voice that bypassed his ears and whispered directly to his instincts.
"Salas, I wanted to ask you some questions."
The bishop's lips moved before his mind could catch up.
"Yes."
His voice was low, honest, automatic.
A flash of satisfaction crossed Qian Renxue's eyes. The candle's flame danced slightly brighter.
She leaned forward slightly. "Then let's begin."
Sweat began to bead on Salas's forehead. His gaze was still fixed on the candle's flame, the flickering light mirrored in his pupils. His breathing had slowed to match its rhythm, lulled by the undercurrent of spiritual pressure washing over his mind like a quiet tide.
Across from him, Qian Renxue's tone remained steady.
Her first question came, clear and direct.
"Have you used Spirit Hall's power to do something unethical?"
Salas blinked slowly. Then, as though compelled by instinct, he replied in a flat, honest voice,
"No."
Qian Renxue's gaze didn't waver, but internally, she noted the flaw.
'Of course. The term "unethical" is subjective.'
A man like Salas, rooted in power and privilege, might never see his actions as wrong, even when they reek of corruption.
So she changed her tactic.
Her next question cut closer to the truth.
"Do you support slavers with your power?"
Again, the answer came, without hesitation:
"No."
Qian Renxue narrowed her eyes slightly.
It wasn't a lie. He likely didn't support them, because the Spirit Hall does not support such thing and even condemns slavery.
So she went for the most direct question.
"Do you buy slaves," she asked coldly, "to warm your bed?"
This time, Salas hesitated.
For a second, the candle's flame seemed to waver, his jaw twitched. Then, his lips parted, and the truth escaped like a breath he had been trying to hold back.
"…Yes."
Silence fell across the room, as the word lingered.
Qian Renxue didn't speak. Her gaze remained fixed on him, staring at him with purple eyes.
In her heart, in the fragments of her old self, the part that still remembered the world she once came from, such an act was unforgivable. Such acts were dehumanizing and attrocious.
But this world… was not that world.
Here, slavery was a hidden undercurrent flowing beneath gilded cities. Everyone knew, but no one cared. Unless it touched their own interests, their own blood.
Salas wasn't an outlier, he was the norm.
Qian Renxue's nails dug into her palm, hidden beneath the folds of her cloak.
'What right do I have to punish one man, when the entire system is diseased?'
Her eyes seemed to gaze past Salas… past the flickering candle… and up toward the open window, where the sunlight streamed in, soft and golden.
That light felt almost cruel, shining so gently in a world that had nothing gentle about it.
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
Inside her mind, a question stirred, silent but deafening.
'Is the world that is wrong…?'
At that moment Salas stiffened, his mouth opened, then closed. The trance was breaking.
In the end after much contemplation Qian Renxue did not punish Salas, she extinguished the candle with two fingers. A thin trail of smoke curled upward like a whisper to the heavens.
"This conversation never happened," she said softly.
And Qian Renxue turned away, walking slowly toward the window where the light fell like judgment through glass.
--
Author notes: Qian Renxue used a candle to fully unleash her beyonder abilities on Salas. Because Salas is not a person that can be easily hypnotized like other civilians and low level soul masters even if her mental strength has reached beyond a normal Titled Douluo.
And before you ask with having higher mental power will be good for her , but in Beyonder's growth higher the mental strength the more unknown knowledge clings to you.