Zhang Tian took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea, the fragrant steam warming his face. He set the cup down with a soft click, the sound a quiet punctuation mark in the sun-drenched courtyard. He looked at Qian Renxue, at the barely suppressed storm of fury in her beautiful violet eyes, and a faint, almost pitying smile touched his lips.
"I did read about it," he confirmed, his voice a calm, placid lake against the raging river of her anger. "And you are looking at this from the wrong angle, Renxue. You see a simple, shameless petition. I see a beautiful, intricate trap."
Qian Renxue's brow furrowed, her anger momentarily overshadowed by her curiosity. "A trap? What are you talking about?"
"This isn't just the Blue Lightning Clan making a polite request," Zhang Tian explained, his tone shifting to that of a lecturer dispassionately dissecting a complex political problem. "This is a coordinated power play. Tang Hao is no longer just a ghost hiding in the shadows. He has forged a true alliance with Yu Yuanzhen. This letter… it isn't just about bringing the Clear Sky Sect back into the world. It's about creating a third, powerful faction to challenge the current status quo."
He leaned back, his posture relaxed, his mind a brilliant, flashing chessboard. "Think about it. The Clear Sky Sect and the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan. The two most powerful attack-type sects in the world, united. Their combined influence would be a hammer that could shatter the current balance of power. They could pressure not just the Spirit Hall, but the two great empires as well. Every other sect, every other clan, including my own Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect, would be forced to choose a side which would either be to support the Spirit Hall or not."
Qian Renxue listened, her initial, fiery rage slowly cooling into a cold, hard, and deeply analytical focus. He was right. Of course, he was right. She had been so blinded by her personal hatred for Tang Hao that she had failed to see the larger, more dangerous political game that was being played.
"And the public opinion…" she murmured, her voice a low, frustrated sound as she picked up the thread of his logic. "They are masterfully manipulating it. I have heard the whispers in the city. The common people, the minor nobles… they are all starting to see the Spirit Hall as an oppressor, as a tyrant that is unjustly persecuting a noble, wronged clan. If we reject this petition, if we go against the tide of public opinion, our reputation, the very foundation of our authority, will be damaged."
"Exactly," Zhang Tian said with a nod. "Which gives the Supreme Pontiff, only one logical choice."
Qian Renxue's face hardened, a deep frown marring her perfect features. "To accept," she spat, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. "To allow the Spirit Hall's enemy's clan to return to the world, stronger and more united than ever before. I will not allow that to happen. I will send a message to my grandfather. He must…"
"He must do nothing," Zhang Tian interrupted her, his voice gentle but firm. He reached out and placed a calming hand on her arm. "You must also do nothing. Let them have their little victory. Let the Clear Sky Sect emerge from their exile."
"What?!" she stared at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief.
"Think, Renxue," he said, his voice a low, hypnotic murmur. "Why has the Clear Sky Sect been able to maintain this image of a noble, wronged clan for so long? Because they have been hidden. They have been a myth, a legend. The world has forgotten what they are truly like."
A slow, cold, and incredibly predatory smile spread across his face. "Do you remember what they were known for, before their exile? Not just their power. Their arrogance. Their pride. The disciples of the Clear Sky Sect were infamous for their domineering, contemptuous behavior. They saw themselves as gods among men, and they treated everyone else like ants."
He leaned closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "The common people have a short memory. They are swayed by stories, by emotions. But they also have a powerful sense of fairness. Let the Clear Sky Sect return to the world. Let them walk among the common people again. And then, just wait. It will not take long. A month? Two? Before the reports start to filter in. A Clear Sky Sect's disciple humiliating a commoner. A Clear Sky elder demanding tribute from a small town or a small clan. An act of casual, arrogant cruelty that will shatter their carefully constructed image of a noble, wronged clan."
He saw the dawning, brilliant light of understanding in her violet eyes and pressed his advantage. "And when the public's opinion begins to turn," he said, his smile widening, "when the people begin to remember why they feared the Clear Sky Sect in the first place… that is when we make our move."
"This letter," he continued, his voice a blade of pure, irrefutable logic, "is not just a weapon for them. It is a weapon for us. It is a public declaration of the Blue Lightning Clan's support for the Clear Sky Sect. A declaration made while they are secretly, treasonously, allied with a wanted criminal, Tang Hao."
He looked at her, his eyes gleaming with a dark, beautiful, and utterly ruthless light. "All we need to do is create a situation. A situation that forces Tang Hao to reveal himself. And when he does, when the world sees that Yu Yuanzhen has been in league with him all along, this letter… it will become a joke. A proof of their hypocrisy. And the Spirit Hall will have a perfect, unassailable reason to act. Not just against Tang Hao. But against the entire Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan."
Qian Renxue stared at him, her mind a silent, screaming vortex of pure, unadulterated awe. He had not just found a solution. He had turned their enemy's greatest strength into their greatest weakness. He had transformed a political defeat into a future, catastrophic victory.
She let out a long, slow breath, a sound that was a mixture of relief and a deep, profound, and almost religious reverence. She looked at him, at the calm, handsome, and terrifyingly brilliant man who sat before her, and the desire to possess him, to make this incredible mind her own, was a physical, burning ache in her heart.
It was then that two other, equally sharp, voices joined the conversation.
"You worry too much." Ning Rongrong said, her voice a smug, proprietary purr as she snuggled closer to Zhang Tian, her arm wrapping possessively around his. "You should just trust him to handle that Tang Hao"
"He will not let Tang Hao escape his punishment," Zhu Zhuqing added, her own voice a low, cold promise. "His revenge will be far more… thorough than a simple rejection letter."
Qian Renxue nodded, a genuine, grateful smile touching her lips for the first time that day. "You are right," she said, her voice a soft, heartfelt murmur. "Of course, you are right."
With the heavy, political tension in the air finally, truly dissipated, the atmosphere in the courtyard returned to one of light, easy camaraderie.
"So," Qian Renxue began, her tone shifting, becoming the light, conversational sound of a simple, friendly visit. "Now that the fate of the empire has been settled, what are you three planning to do for the rest of the day?"
"We were just about to go for a walk," Zhang Tian replied, his own expression relaxing into a warm, genuine smile. "Explore the city a bit. The preliminary rounds for the Continental Tournament are starting soon, aren't they? The city must be buzzing with new arrivals."
"It is," Qian Renxue confirmed with a nod. "The four great Elemental Academies have all arrived. The Blazing Academy, the Divine Wind Academy, the Heavenly Water Academy… and, of course," she added, a flicker of something, a hint of a cool, professional interest in her eyes, "the Thunderclap Academy, from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan. They are all staying in the designated guest quarters near the Imperial Academy. The security is… tight."
She paused, a thoughtful look on her face. "And there is another. A smaller, but very interesting, team from the Plant Academy. Their captain, a young woman named Mu Qingzhu, has been making quite a name for herself in the city's smaller arenas. They say her spirit is a unique, mutated plant type. One with a… devouring ability."
Zhang Tian's calm expression did not change, but internally, a flicker of cold, sharp interest ignited. 'So, the little girl who absorbed the spirit bone of one of those sentient Blood Silver Grass has arrived,' he thought. 'Interesting. I will have to keep an eye on her.'
"And what of the Shrek Academy?" he asked, his tone one of casual, almost offhand, curiosity. "I have heard rumors that they have been making quite a name for themselves in the city's Great Spirit Arena as well."
Qian Renxue just shrugged, a gesture of polite, aristocratic disinterest. "I have heard the same," she said, her voice a cool, dismissive sound. "They fight as a seven-man team now. They have a high win rate, I believe. But their methods are… crude. All brute force and a reckless, almost suicidal, aggression. They are monsters, yes. But they are unrefined monsters. They lack the elegance, the tactical depth, of a true elite team."
She looked at him, and her smile returned, a slow, confident, and incredibly possessive expression. "They are not a threat," she said simply. "Not to you. Not to us."
The unspoken 'us' hung in the air, a silent, beautiful promise that made Ning Rongrong's and Zhu Zhuqing's eyes narrow once more.
"Well," Zhang Tian said, standing up and gracefully extricating himself from the budding, silent war of feminine possessiveness. "It has been a pleasure, Renxue. But my fiancées and I have a date to attend to."
He offered her a polite, charming bow. "We will see you at the tournament."
With that, he took each of his beautiful, triumphant fiancées by the hand.
Three days.
That was all it took for the carefully crafted letter from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan to explode into a continent-spanning political firestorm. The Spirit Hall, an organization that moved with the slow, deliberate certainty of a glacier, responded with a speed that was nothing short of breathtaking.
Their answer was not a quiet, diplomatic reply. It was a public declaration, a proclamation distributed to every major city, every noble house, every Spirit Hall branch across the two great empires.
The declaration, written in the elegant, authoritative script of the Pope's Palace, was a masterpiece of political maneuvering. It acknowledged the Blue Lightning Clan's petition with a tone of magnanimous, almost paternal, wisdom.
"The Spirit Hall has heard the voice of the people, and the noble plea of our esteemed allies in the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan," it began. "We recognize that the sins of one man should not be borne by an entire clan for eternity. The crime of Tang Hao, in his brutal and unprovoked assault on our beloved former Supreme Pontiff, Qian Xunji, is a stain upon the history of our world. It is a crime for which he, and he alone, must pay the price."
"Therefore," the declaration continued, its words a stunning, world-shaking pronouncement, "the fourteen-year-long exile of the Clear Sky Sect has come to an end. They are free to return to the world, to reclaim their place among the great sects of our time."
The news was a thunderclap that echoed in every corner of the continent. The public reaction was immediate, and overwhelmingly positive.
"They listened!" a merchant in a Heaven Dou City teahouse exclaimed, slapping his hand on the table. "I told you! The Spirit Hall isn't the tyrant everyone says they are! They are a force for justice!"
The sentiment was echoed everywhere. The Spirit Hall's reputation, which had been teetering on the edge of a precipice, was not just restored; it was elevated. They were seen as a reasonable, just, and merciful power.
But the declaration was not just a pardon. It was a death sentence.
"Let it be known," the final, chilling paragraph read, "that the end of the sect's exile does not absolve the criminal Tang Hao of his sins. The hunt for this murderer will continue with renewed vigor. And let this be a warning to all. Any faction, any individual, who is found to be aiding, abetting, or concealing the fugitive Tang Hao will be considered an enemy of the Spirit Hall. And they will face our full, and unforgiving, wrath."
The message was a blade of pure, unadulterated ice. The alliance between the two great sects, which had been a secret, powerful undercurrent, was now a potential liability. The Spirit Hall had not just pardoned the Clear Sky Sect; they had placed a leash around their necks.
A week later, the world held its breath as a procession of unimaginable power descended from the misty, secluded peaks they had called home for fourteen long years. The Clear Sky Sect had returned.
They did not return to their ancestral home, a place that was now a ghost of its former glory. They established a new home, a temporary fortress in a series of deep, defensible valleys just a few dozen miles from the main fortress of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan. The location was strategic, a clear, unmistakable statement of their new, powerful alliance. And it was a practical one. It intersected with several major trade routes, a vital necessity for a clan that was, for all its power, effectively bankrupt.
It was in one of these newly established, temporary halls that a reunion, fourteen years in the making, finally took place.
Tang Hao stood before his elder brother. Tang Xiao, the current Sect Master of the Clear Sky Sect, was a man who seemed to be carved from the very mountain they had just left. He was tall, broad, his face a mask of stern, weary authority. But the moment he saw his younger brother, the mask shattered.
"Hao," he said, his voice a low, choked sound. He stepped forward and pulled his brother into a tight, desperate hug, a gesture that was a release of fourteen long years of worry, of grief, of a shared, unspoken pain.
"You're back," he murmured against his brother's shoulder. "Are you well?"
Tang Hao returned the hug, his own body stiff, unaccustomed to such a display of affection. "I am as well as can be expected, brother," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.
They pulled apart, and Tang Xiao's gaze, filled with a deep, sorrowful concern, searched his brother's face. "And… and what about Sister-In-Law?" he asked, his voice a soft, hesitant whisper. He had loved her too, in his own quiet, self-sacrificing way. He had given her up for his brother's happiness, and the pain of her loss was a wound that had never truly healed.
Tang Hao's face, which had been a mask of stone, seemed to crumble for a fraction of a second. A flicker of pure, unadulterated agony passed through his burning eyes.
"She… she is gone, brother," he said, his voice a hoarse, broken sound. "The Spirit Hall… they hunted her down. She… she sacrificed herself for me."
Tang Xiao's face paled, a look of profound, personal grief on his face. He had loved her too, in his own quiet, stoic way. He had given her up for his brother, a sacrifice that had cost him more than anyone knew.
"But she left me a gift," Tang Hao continued, a flicker of fierce, paternal pride in his voice. "A son. Tang San. He has Twin Spirits. He has her spirit, the Blue Silver Grass. But it has mutated. Into a… a Purple Spirit Grass. A poison attribute. And he has my hammer."
Tang Xiao stared, his grief momentarily forgotten, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated shock. "A son? Twin Spirits?"
"He is a genius," Tang Hao declared, his voice ringing with an absolute, unwavering conviction. "The greatest our clan has ever produced. He will be the one to restore our glory. He will be the one to have our revenge against the Spirit Hall."
He then told his brother everything. He told him of his alliance with Yu Yuanzhen, of their brutal, successful hunt in the Dragoncry Thunder Canyon, of the spirit bones they had acquired.
Tang Xiao listened, his expression a mixture of shock, of awe, and a dawning, brilliant hope. The future, which had been a dark, uncertain road for so long, was suddenly a bright, sunlit path.
"Whatever you need, brother," he said, his voice a low, firm vow. "The sect will support you. We will support your son. We will give him everything he needs to reach his true potential."
A week later, after the Clear Sky Sect had settled into their new, temporary home, a meeting of kings took place.
Tang Hao stood between the two most powerful men in the world, his own presence a silent, sorrowful, but undeniably equal, third pillar.
"I cannot show my face in public," Tang Hao stated, his voice a low, final command. "The Spirit Hall's declaration has made that clear. I will be a ghost. A shadow. But my power, my knowledge, is at your disposal."
Tang Xiao and Yu Yuanzhen both nodded in agreement.
"We will not need you for the hunts," Yu Yuanzhen said, his voice a deep, resonant boom of pure, confident power. "Your assistance in the Dragoncry Thunder Canyon was invaluable. You have given my clan the keys to a new era of power. My brothers are already in seclusion, their breakthroughs imminent. Now, we, the elders of my clan and your own, will hunt together. We will go to the Star Dou Great Forest. We will acquire the ninth rings for our new Titled Douluos. And then… then the world will see the true, combined might of dragons and hammers."
Tang Xiao nodded his agreement. "It is a good plan."
Tang Hao then made his final, most important request. He looked at the two powerful men before him, his gaze direct and unwavering.
"My son," he said, his voice a low, rumbling sound that held a father's desperate, pleading love. "He will be participating in the Continental Tournament. And the Spirit Hall… they know who he is. They will target him. I need you to protect him."
He looked at his brother, and then at the proud, arrogant leader of the Blue Lightning Clan. "I cannot be there myself. My presence would only bring him more danger. But you… you can be his shield."
The two powerful men did not hesitate.
"He is my nephew," Tang Xiao said simply, his voice a quiet, unbreakable vow. "I will protect him with my life."
Yu Yuanzhen's own response was more complex, his motivation a tangled web of pride, of ambition, and a deep, festering, and almost pathetic, hope. He had heard the reports from his own, secret informants within the new Shrek Academy. He knew of his son's, Yu Xiaogang's, almost obsessive devotion to this boy, Tang San.
'If I protect this boy,' he thought, a flicker of something, a hint of a desperate, paternal longing in his golden eyes, 'if I show my support for my son's dream, for his disciple… perhaps… perhaps he will finally come home.'
"You have my word, Tang Hao," he declared, his voice a deep, resonant boom that was both a promise and a prayer. "Your son will be safe under my watch."
~~
A/N: Check out my other novels like "Douluo Dalu: Time Travel", "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