The silence that followed Zhang Tian's devastatingly polite insult was a fragile, crystalline thing. It hung in the cold, opulent chamber for a long, tense moment before it was shattered by a soft, dangerous sound.
A teacup being placed back on its saucer with a sharp, deliberate click.
Xue Qinghe looked up, the warm, princely smile completely gone from his handsome face. It was replaced by a look of profound, chilling coldness. His eyes, no longer the color of a calm sky, were now two chips of ice.
"You have a sharp tongue, Mister Zhang Tian," he said, his voice a smooth, silken threat. "But I fear it will not serve you well here."
He leaned forward, his hands steepled before him. "I am not interested in your juvenile attempts to provoke me. I will ask you one last time. Tell me the name of the Titled Douluo who brought such destruction to Suotuo City and the other kingdoms. Tell me what you know."
His voice dropped, becoming a low, dangerous murmur that promised a world of pain. "If you do not speak that name, I can assure you that your new engagement will be a very, very short one. You, and your two beautiful fiancées, will find yourselves in a great deal of danger. And I will show you no mercy."
The two Titled Douluos guarding him, Snake Lance and Porcupinefish, took a half-step forward, their immense, oppressive auras flooding the room, a tangible, suffocating weight.
Before Zhang Tian could even respond, a sharp, furious voice cut through the tension.
"You dare?!"
Ning Rongrong stepped forward, her body trembling not with fear, but with a pure, unadulterated rage. She stood protectively in front of Zhang Tian, her hands on her hips, her beautiful face a mask of furious indignation as she glared at the Crown Prince.
"Crown Prince Xue Qinghe!" she spat, her usual sweet, respectful address of 'Brother Qinghe' gone, replaced by a cold, formal title that was an insult in itself. "How dare you capture us! How dare you threaten my husband! Do you have any idea what you have just done?"
Her voice rose, ringing with the absolute, unshakeable authority of her station. "If my father or my grandpas get to know of this, I can promise you, even your position as the Crown Prince of the Heaven Dou Empire will not be enough to save you from their wrath!"
Xue Qinghe just looked at her, his expression one of calm, almost pitying, amusement. "Little Sister Rongrong," he said, his voice a smooth, condescending balm. "You are young. You do not understand the true nature of power. Your Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect is powerful, yes. But they cannot harm me. Not at all."
"Hmph! We'll see about that!" Ning Rongrong was about to launch into another furious tirade, but a warm, steady hand landed on her shoulder.
"Rongrong," Zhang Tian's voice was calm, a steadying anchor in her sea of rage. "Calm down."
He gently moved her behind him and stepped forward, his gaze locking with Xue Qinghe's.
"He is right, you know," Zhang Tian said, his voice a quiet, conversational tone that was somehow more chilling than any shout. "The Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect indeed can't harm this individual."
Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing stared at him, their faces a mask of pure, bewildered confusion.
"Because," Zhang Tian continued, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his lips, "this individual isn't the Crown Prince of the Heaven Dou Empire."
The world seemed to stop.
The statement, so simple, so direct, so utterly impossible, hung in the air, a cataclysmic bombshell that shattered the reality of everyone in the room.
Ning Rongrong's jaw dropped. "What… what are you saying?"
Zhu Zhuqing's icy composure finally cracked, her dark eyes wide with a profound, earth-shattering shock.
From his hidden vantage point outside the chamber, Sword Douluo Chen Xin, who had been listening with a grim, controlled patience, felt his own heart stop for a beat. 'An… imposter?'
The two Titled Douluos, She Long and Ci Xue, who had been standing with an air of arrogant confidence, froze. A flicker of pure, unadulterated panic flashed through their eyes before they ruthlessly suppressed it. How? How could he possibly know?
Zhang Tian's gaze remained fixed on the figure in the throne-like chair. "This person is an agent of the Spirit Hall who has been infiltrating the Heaven Dou Imperial Palace, successfully acting as the Crown Prince of the Heaven Dou Empire, for the last twelve years."
The number, so specific, so precise, was the final, undeniable proof.
Xue Qinghe did not gasp. He did not deny it. He simply let out a long, slow, and strangely weary sigh. The cold, masculine mask of the Crown Prince seemed to melt away, and for the first time, a hint of a tired, feminine grace touched his features.
She looked at Zhang Tian, her expression no longer one of anger, but of a deep, profound, and grudging respect. His guess had been correct. This boy knew. But…
'He cannot possibly know my true identity,' she thought, her mind racing. 'He cannot know that I am Qian Renxue, the inheritor of the God-blessed Seraphim Spirit. He only knows that I am an agent of the Spirit Hall. That is all.'
"How?" she asked, and her voice had changed. The pleasant tenor of the prince was gone, replaced by a clear, cold, and undeniably female voice. "How did you know it has been twelve years?"
The shift in her voice was the final confirmation. Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing let out a collective, sharp gasp, their hands flying to their mouths, their minds struggling to process the sheer, mind-bending audacity of the deception that had been playing out before their very eyes. This man… this Crown Prince… was a woman. An imposter from the Spirit Hall. The implications were staggering, terrifying.
Zhang Tian simply smiled, a calm, professorial expression on his face. "It wasn't difficult to deduce, once I realized you were an imposter," he explained, his voice the calm, steady tone of a lecturer explaining a simple problem. "With the vast information network of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect at my disposal, I simply had to look for the point of divergence. The point where the real Xue Qinghe disappeared, and you took his place."
He began to lay out his deductions, each point a hammer blow that chipped away at her carefully constructed facade.
"The records show that when the true Crown Prince was nine years old, he went on a supervised hunt for his second spirit ring. There was an 'incident'. A powerful spirit beast attacked. All of his guards, his protectors, were killed. He alone returned, but unharmed. It was the perfect opportunity. The perfect time for a substitution."
He continued, his gaze unwavering. "And shortly after that incident, a strange thing happened. The second and third princes, both of them talented and powerful contenders for the throne, died. Mysteriously. Both of them died due to strange untreatable illnesses that must have been poisons. And their political factions, their supporters… they were absorbed by the Crown Prince's faction with a speed and efficiency that was simply breathtaking. It was as if you were not just reacting to their deaths, but had been preparing for them all along."
"The fourth prince, Xue Beng, was left alive, of course," he added with a dismissive shrug. "A known wastrel, a fool with no ambition and no powerful backing. He was no threat. Leaving him alive was the perfect way to make yourself look magnanimous, to dispel any suspicion."
He paused, a faint, mocking smile touching his lips. "And then, there was the final, most glaring clue. Your personal life. To be the Crown Prince, a handsome young man in the prime of his life, and yet to show no interest in women, to have no wife, no concubines, no heir… It is, as I said, quite strange. And politically, it is foolish. Without an heir, how could the Emperor ever pass the throne to you with a peaceful heart? It was the one part of the role you could not properly play."
He finished his explanation and simply stood there, watching her, his calm, analytical gaze a mirror that reflected the truth of her entire, long, and arduous deception.
Qian Renxue stared at him, her mind a silent storm of emotions. Awe. Resentment. And a strange, new, and powerful desire.
'He is a monster,' she thought, her heart hammering against her ribs. 'His intelligence… it is terrifying. He took a few, scattered pieces of information, events that the entire empire dismissed as coincidence or simple political maneuvering, and he saw the entire picture. The reasoning, the confidence, the sheer, unadulterated brilliance of the deduction…'
She looked at him, at his handsome face, at the calm, unshakable certainty in his blue eyes. 'I am intelligent. I have been trained by the greatest experts in the Spirit Hall. But this man… he is on another level entirely. In front of him, my own intellect feels… childish.'
The realization was a humbling, intoxicating thing. A powerful, burning desire, a thought she had never had before, ignited within her. 'I must have him. A man of his intellect, his talent… he should not be my enemy. He should be mine. He should be serving me.'
She ruthlessly suppressed the thought, locking it away in the deepest corner of her heart. She could not afford such distractions now. She had been exposed. She had to regain control of the situation.
Her expression hardened, the brief flicker of vulnerability gone, replaced once more by a cold, imperious authority.
"Your deductions are impressive, Mister Zhang Tian," she said, her voice now completely devoid of its princely warmth. "But you have not yet answered my original question. The Titled Douluo. Tell me who he is. Or I will not remain polite any longer."
Zhang Tian just smiled. "Are you truly telling me you have no idea who it was? After all this time?"
Qian Renxue's eyes narrowed. "The attacker was a master of concealment. He left few survivors in his wake, and those that did live were low-ranking spirit masters or civilians who could not provide a clear description of his spirit or his rings. It was as if he used only pure spirit power or his physical body to wreak his destruction. All those who saw his true power are already dead. We have no concrete clues."
Zhang Tian chuckled, a low, amused sound. "I see. Well, I can indeed tell you his identity. But information of that value requires a price of equal measure."
He met her cold, hard gaze with a calm, challenging one of his own. "Reveal your true appearance, and your true identity to me. And I will tell you his."
Qian Renxue thought for a long, silent moment. "My identity is a high price to pay," she said finally. "The information you provide must be of equal value. I will agree, but only if your answer satisfies me. The man in question cannot be some new, low-ranking Titled Douluo. He must be a true threat. Someone nearing the level of a Super Douluo."
Zhang Tian's smile widened. He had her.
"Oh, I assure you," he said, his voice a low, confident purr. "Since you are a high-ranking member of the Spirit Hall, you will be very, very satisfied with his identity."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a dramatic, stage murmur.
"After all, he is none other than the man who killed your previous Supreme Pontiff, Qian Xunji. The youngest Titled Douluo in the history of the world."
He paused, letting the final, devastating words land with the force of a physical blow.
"The Clear Sky Douluo, Tang Hao."
The name, spoken with such calm, devastating finality, was not a word. It was a lit fuse dropped into a barrel of gunpowder.
Tang Hao.
The moment the name left Zhang Tian's lips, the carefully constructed, porcelain mask of the Crown Prince, Xue Qinghe, did not just crack. It exploded.
A wave of pure, unrestrained, and utterly murderous fury erupted from her. It was an emotion so raw, so potent, that it was a physical force in the room. The temperature in the chamber seemed to plummet, and the two Titled Douluos, She Long and Ci Xue, instinctively took a half-step forward, their own immense auras flaring to life to shield their Young Miss from her own emotional backlash.
Her eyes, which had been a cold, calculating sky-blue, were now blazing with a violet fire so intense it was almost black.
"Tang… Hao…" she hissed, the name a curse, a venomous sound torn from the deepest, most poisoned corners of her soul.
The transformation was absolute. The calm, calculating strategist was gone, replaced by a daughter whose father had been stolen from her.
She rose from her chair, her movements no longer the graceful, measured steps of a prince, but the stiff, jerky motions of a puppet whose strings had just been violently yanked.
She stared at Zhang Tian, her gaze a physical thing, a pair of sharp, poisoned daggers.
"What is your connection to him?" she demanded, her voice a low, dangerous growl that held none of the feminine grace from before. "Are you his ally? His subordinate?"
She took a step forward, her killing intent a suffocating blanket. "Answer me. Truthfully. Your lives depend on it."
Before Zhang Tian could even open his mouth, two furious voices erupted in unison.
"Ally?!"
"With him?!"
Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing, who had been standing in a state of stunned, silent shock, were jolted into action by the accusation.
"That bastard tried to kill us!" Ning Rongrong shrieked, her own face a mask of furious indignation. She stepped forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Zhang Tian, her fear completely forgotten, replaced by a fierce, protective rage. "After my husband defeated his pathetic son in a fair duel, that Tang Hao showed up and threatened to annihilate all of us! He's an arrogant, overbearing brute who thinks his power gives him the right to do whatever he wants!"
Zhu Zhuqing's voice was colder, but no less venomous. "Anyone who threatens my fiancés is my enemy," she stated simply, her dark eyes like chips of ice. "Tang Hao's actions were dishonorable and unforgivable. We have no connection to him, other than that of bitter enemies."
Zhang Tian then added his own calm, final nail in the coffin. "His son, Tang San, in a fit of pique after being outmaneuvered in a spar, launched a cowardly, lethal sneak attack on my two fiancées. My subsequent actions against his son were merely a justified punishment for his dishonorable conduct. Tang Hao's appearance was that of a sore loser who could not accept his son's deserved humiliation. We have no love for the Clear Sky Douluo, or his equally contemptible son."
Their three voices, a chorus of shared, genuine hatred for Tang Hao, was the most convincing proof Qian Renxue could have asked for.
The murderous fire in her eyes slowly receded, banked but not extinguished. She looked at them, at their shared, visceral hatred for the man who had caused her so much pain, and a new, different kind of calculation began to form in her mind.
"I see," she said, her voice still cold, but the immediate, personal threat had lessened. "Your answer… is satisfactory."
She stood there for a long, silent moment, her mind a whirlwind of new possibilities. Then, she gave a slow, deliberate nod.
"I made a promise," she said, her voice regaining a measure of its earlier, imperious calm. "And I am a woman of my word. You have given me the information I sought. Now, I will give you the truth you desire."
She raised a hand to her face. A brilliant, golden light began to emanate from her, so pure, so holy, it seemed to suck the very shadows from the room.
A small, exquisite golden crown, or perhaps a tiara, materialized on her head. It was crafted from a light that was not of this world, and it pulsed with a divine, ancient power. It was the ninety-nine-thousand, nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine-year-old Angel's Skull Bone.
The moment the tiara appeared, the illusion that had cloaked her for twelve long years began to melt away.
Her features softened, the sharp, masculine lines of Xue Qinghe's face dissolving into a breathtaking, feminine beauty. Her skin, already fair, became as white and flawless as newly fallen snow. Her blonde hair, which had been cut short in a princely style, grew in an instant, cascading down her back in a river of pure, liquid gold.
Her eyes, which had been a simple blue, shifted, deepened, becoming a mesmerizing, enchanting shade of deep violet. Her nose was straight and elegant, her lips full and perfectly shaped. It was a face of almost divine perfection, a face that radiated a natural, stately dignity, yet at the same time, a holy, otherworldly aura that made her seem untouchable.
Her body transformed as well. The broad shoulders of the prince narrowed, the lean torso softening into a slender, graceful waist that flared out into perfectly curved hips. Her breasts, which had been bound flat, blossomed into two perfect, full globes, not as overwhelmingly large as Zhu Zhuqing's, but of a perfect, harmonious size that complemented her elegant, statuesque frame.
She was no longer the handsome, approachable Crown Prince. She was a goddess. A cold, indifferent, and impossibly holy goddess.
Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing stared, their mouths agape, their minds completely unable to process the miraculous, impossible transformation they had just witnessed.
"You… you're such a…" Ning Rongrong stammered, her voice a choked whisper.
"…beautiful woman," Zhu Zhuqing finished, her own voice filled with a profound, earth-shattering awe.
From his hidden vantage point, Sword Douluo Chen Xin felt his own breath catch in his throat. The beauty was one thing. But the aura… that holy, divine aura… it was a signature he had felt only once before in his long life.
Zhang Tian, however, remained perfectly calm. He watched the transformation with the detached, appreciative gaze of a connoisseur observing a masterpiece.
'She is beautiful,' he thought, his analytical mind cataloguing the details. 'A different kind of beauty from my own women. Rongrong has her sweet, noble charm. Zhuqing has her raw, lethal sensuality. Ah Yin has the irresistible allure of a mature, seductive mother. This one… she is a work of art. A cold, perfect holy woman. Beautiful, but untouchable.'
The newly revealed woman looked at them, her violet eyes holding no warmth, only a cold, regal authority.
"My name," she announced, her voice a clear, melodic chime, "is Qian Renxue."
As she spoke, a brilliant, golden light erupted from her back. Six magnificent, feathered wings, crafted from pure, solidified sunlight, unfurled behind her, bathing the entire chamber in a holy, divine radiance.
"And this," she declared, "is my Martial Spirit. The Six-Winged Angel."
The Seraphim.
The name, the spirit, the face… it all clicked into place in Chen Xin's mind with the force of a physical blow.
'Qian Renxue… Qian Xunji's daughter… the Seraphim spirit…' his mind reeled. 'My father… he was killed by the one who has the same spirit as this. By that Grand Elder of the Spirit Hall. Qian Daoliu.'
A wave of cold, helpless dread washed over him. 'If this girl is Qian Xunji's daughter, then that monster, that Level 99 Limit Douluo who is said to be invincible in the sky… he is her grandfather.'
He looked at the scene below, at the beautiful, terrifying young woman who held the fate of empires in her hands. 'We cannot harm her,' he concluded, his heart a cold, heavy stone in his chest. 'We cannot. If we did, Qian Daoliu would descend upon our sect like a vengeful god. Even with my new power, even with that Old Bone at my side and Fengzhi's support… we would be annihilated. She is untouchable.'
In the chamber below, Zhang Tian, having given them a moment to absorb the shock, stepped forward.
"Now that the introductions are complete," he said, his voice a calm, simple statement of fact, "and our deal is concluded, I believe it is time for my fiancées and I to take our leave."
Qian Renxue looked at him, a flicker of something unreadable in her violet eyes. "You may leave," she agreed. "But first, answer me one question, Zhang Tian."
She tilted her head, a gesture that was both elegant and deeply unsettling. "With your intelligence, you must have understood the danger. After our… conversation at your engagement, you must have guessed that I might target you. So why? Why did you still come out to roam the city? If you had remained within the protective walls of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect, my Uncle She and Uncle Ci would have had no opportunity to capture you."
Zhang Tian just shrugged, a casual, almost dismissive gesture. "I did consider the threat," he admitted. "But having a date with my fiances was also quite important. And besides," he added, a faint, mocking smile touching his lips, "we were never in any real danger."
He then raised his right hand, his fingers clenching and unclenching in a simple, deliberate pattern.
Qian Renxue frowned, confused by the strange, seemingly meaningless gesture.
And then, the world changed.
An intense, suffocating pressure, a force so immense and so sharp it felt like the very air was being turned into a billion tiny needles, slammed down on the three of them.
Qian Renxue gasped, her holy aura flickering violently as she was forced to her knees. The two Titled Douluos, She Long and Ci Xue, roared in shock and pain as the pressure crushed them, their own powerful auras shattering like glass.
A figure flickered into existence in the center of the room. He stood there, his posture relaxed, almost casual. It was the Sword Douluo, Chen Xin.
In his hand, he held his Seven Kill Sword. It was a magnificent weapon, four feet and three inches of translucent blue crystal, its edges shimmering with a light that seemed to cut the very air.
The moment he appeared, both She Long and Ci Xue stared, their eyes wide with a mixture of terror and disbelief.
'Level 97!' She Long's mind screamed. 'When did he break through?! His pressure… it's immense!'
'And his Sword Intent…' Ci Xue added, his own spirit trembling. 'It's… it's on another level entirely. It's not just sharp; it's… solid. Like a mountain. To face him now… it would be suicide.' They both realized, with a dawning, sickening horror, that he must have been there all along, a silent, invisible predator, watching, waiting.
The Sword Douluo's cold, sharp gaze was fixed on Qian Renxue.
"Your identity is indeed special, Young Miss Qian," he said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "And I would not normally harm the granddaughter of that old monster. But you targeted my Rongrong. You threatened her."
His aura intensified, and the very stones of the floor around Qian Renxue began to crack under the strain. "Let me be perfectly clear. If you had harmed a single hair on her head, or on the heads of Zhang Tian or this little cat girl, I would have killed you. Whether your grandfather is the strongest individual in the entire world or not…I wouldn't have cared. Do you understand?"
Qian Renxue gritted her teeth, the pressure forcing the air from her lungs. She stared at Zhang Tian, at the calm, almost bored expression on his face, and she finally, truly, understood.
He had known. He had known from the very beginning that he had the upper hand. This entire, elaborate game, this interrogation, this reveal… it was all a show. A play he had orchestrated to learn her identity, and to reveal it to the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect, all while being in a position of absolute, unassailable safety.
The sheer, breathtaking audacity of his intellect made her head spin. The desire to have him, to make this terrifyingly brilliant man her subordinate, was now a burning, obsessive fire in her heart.
She forced herself to calm down, to regain control. She was Qian Renxue. She would not be so easily defeated.
"I understand, Senior Sword Douluo," she managed to say, her voice strained. She looked at him, her expression shifting to one of cool, political pragmatism. "I never intended to harm them. My only goal was to learn the identity of the Titled Douluo who was causing chaos in many cities and also destroying Spirit Hall branches. Now that I know it is Tang Hao, a man who is also your enemy, we are no longer adversaries. We are on the same side."
It was a masterful de-escalation.
Zhang Tian stepped forward then, a calm, mediating presence. "She is right, Grandpa Sword," he said. He then looked at Qian Renxue. "I look forward to seeing how you will deal with Tang Hao."
Qian Renxue nodded, a flicker of genuine gratitude in her violet eyes. "I will not show him any mercy," she vowed. She then looked at Zhang Tian, and her voice softened, becoming almost a murmur. "And thank you. For telling me. It… it means a great deal to me. You have given me the key to my revenge."
With a final, silent nod, Zhang Tian turned. He walked over to his two stunned fiancées and took their hands.
"Let's go home," he said softly.
Together, with the Sword Douluo as their silent, terrifying guardian, they walked out of the chamber, leaving a stunned, thoughtful, and deeply intrigued Qian Renxue in their wake. The game had been played, and the board had been completely, irrevocably, changed.
~~
A/N: Check out my other novels like "Harem Master: Seduction System" and the "Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist" and I hope you like this story and those stories as well.
Check out more chapters on my P.atreon. The P.atreon will have 20+ Chapters ahead for this story. I hope you like it.
The link of p.atreon is: bit.ly/evildragon