The name hung in the sunlit courtyard like a shroud. Tang Chen. The Peerless on the Land. The name was a legend, a ghost story whispered in the highest echelons of the Spirit Master world. A man who had stood at the absolute pinnacle, a Level 99 Limit Douluo, and had then simply… vanished.
Qian Renxue stared at Zhang Tian, her beautiful face a mask of profound, unadulterated shock. The playful, flirtatious energy of their dance was gone, replaced by a cold, hard, and deeply unsettling seriousness.
"How?" she whispered, her voice a low, incredulous sound. "How could you possibly know that? That Tang Chen is alive? That he is… trapped?"
Her question was echoed in the wide, curious eyes of the other two women. Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing stopped their own gentle swaying, their full attention now fixed on their husband. They knew he was a man of a thousand secrets, but this… this was a secret that could shake the very foundations of the world.
Zhang Tian just smiled, a slow, lazy, and utterly infuriatingly confident expression. The grave, serious mood he had created just moments before seemed to melt away, replaced once more by a playful, roguish charm. The ethereal, beautiful music of the zither still filled the air, a strange, beautiful counterpoint to the heavy, world-shaking topic they were now discussing.
He did not answer with words. He answered with his hands.
He was standing between Qian Renxue and Zhu Zhuqing, his arms wrapped around their slender waists. His right hand, which had been resting on Qian Renxue's hip, slid down, a brazen, possessive journey that came to rest on the magnificent, perfect curve of her ass. He gave it a firm, appreciative squeeze, a gesture that was so unexpected, so shockingly intimate, that a small, choked gasp escaped her lips. A brilliant, beautiful blush, a color she had not felt since she was a young girl, flooded her cheeks.
His left hand was even more daring. It slid up Zhu Zhuqing's back, his fingers slipping beneath the collar of her dark top. He found what he was looking for. His hand closed over her magnificent, heavy breast, his thumb finding her hard, erect nipple with an expert's precision.
"Mmmph," Zhu Zhuqing purred, her body melting against his, her head falling back in a silent, blissful surrender.
He then looked at Qian Renxue, his blue eyes gleaming with a dark, mischievous light. "Are you truly asking me to reveal my secrets, Renxue?" he purred, his voice a low, intimate sound that was for her ears alone. "Some secrets… are best kept."
He then leaned in and pressed a long, slow, and incredibly passionate kiss to the side of her neck, his teeth gently grazing her sensitive skin. A sharp, electric jolt shot through her, so intense it made her knees weak. She had never been touched like this before, not in front of others. And the feeling… it was a thrilling, terrifying, and utterly intoxicating cocktail of shame and desire.
He then released her and moved to Ning Rongrong, who had been watching the entire, beautiful exchange with a mixture of possessive jealousy and a secret, thrilling excitement. He pulled her into a tight, fierce hug and captured her lips in a deep, passionate kiss that left her breathless and dizzy.
When he finally pulled away, he looked at the three beautiful, powerful, and utterly flustered women before him, and he finally, casually, answered their question.
"It is my spirit," he said simply, as if he were discussing the weather. "My Blood Silver Grass. You know that it can spread, that it can act as my eyes and my ears. The Clear Sky Sect has re-emerged. They have established a new home. And that home… it is covered in grass. The grass hears the whispers of the disciples, the conversations of the elders. It hears everything."
The explanation was so simple, so logical, and yet so utterly, completely, and terrifyingly profound, that it left them speechless. They had known, on some level, the power of his domain. But they had never truly, for a single moment, considered its full, world-shattering implications.
To have a silent, invisible, and utterly undetectable spy network that could cover an entire continent… it was not just a powerful ability. It was the power of a god.
Qian Renxue was the first to recover, her mind, a cold, brilliant machine, already processing this new, terrifying variable. The implications for the Spirit Hall, for her own plans, were immense. But her immediate concern was a more personal, and far more pressing, one.
"So, it is true," she said, her voice a low, serious murmur. "Tang Chen is alive. And he is a threat."
She looked at Zhang Tian, and her eyes were filled with a new, profound seriousness. "Then your plan… to let the Clear Sky Sect re-emerge, to let them make mistakes… it is too dangerous. If there is even a small chance that their defeat could unleash a monster like Tang Chen upon the world, we cannot risk it. We must crush them now. Before they have a chance to grow stronger."
Zhang Tian just chuckled, a low, warm sound. He walked over to her and, with a casual, almost offhand grace, he pulled her into another slow, intimate waltz, his hand resting on the small of her back.
"You worry too much, my dear Renxue," he said, his voice a soothing, confident murmur. "The Clear Sky Sect is a threat, yes. A potential one. But they are a distant storm. For now, they are weak. They are disorganized. And they are proud. It will take them years to rebuild their strength, to re-establish their influence. And in those years… they will make many, many mistakes. And we will be there to capitalize on every single one of them."
He spun her around, his hand sliding down to give her magnificent, perfect ass another firm, possessive smack. She let out another small, shocked gasp, a sound that was now more pleasure than surprise.
"As for the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan," he continued, his voice a dismissive, almost bored, sound, "they are a paper tiger. A loud, roaring beast with no real teeth."
He looked at Ning Rongrong, who had rejoined their dance, her body a warm, comforting presence on his other side. "You heard the reports from your father, did you not, my love? About the Sword Douluo's recent… progress?"
Ning Rongrong nodded, a proud, happy smile on her face. "I did," she confirmed. "Grandpa Sword had a breakthrough a few months ago. He has reached Level 98. He is a true Hyper Douluo now."
The news, which had been a closely guarded secret of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect, was another bombshell. Qian Renxue's eyes widened. A Level 98 Hyper Douluo. A being whose power was second only to her own grandfather's.
"So, you see," Zhang Tian said, his voice a cool, confident lecture as he now moved to dance with Zhu Zhuqing, his hands immediately finding her magnificent, heavy breasts, his thumbs gently teasing her hard, erect nipples through the thin fabric of her top. She moaned, a low, guttural sound of pure, carnal pleasure. "Even if the Blue Lightning Clan manages to create five, six, even seven new Titled Douluos… they will all be fresh, inexperienced Level 91 or 92s. Against a single, seasoned Level 98 swordsman… they are nothing. He could cut them all down in less than an hour."
He leaned in and kissed Zhu Zhuqing's neck, his teeth gently grazing her sensitive skin. "And their techniques…" he added, his voice a low, contemptuous sound. "They are crude. All brute force and a mindless, predictable aggression. They lack the artistry, the profundity, of the Clear Sky Absolutes. Their Dragon Transformation is a powerful ability, yes. But as we saw in Yu Yuanzhen's pathetic performance against the Thunder Roc Sovereign… it is a limited one. It can be countered. It can be broken."
The three women listened, and the last of their worries, of their fears, just melted away. He was right. He was always right. They had the power. They had the strategy. They had him. And that was all that mattered.
The music from the Speaker finally, slowly, faded into a gentle, lingering silence. The dance was over. The serious, world-shaking conversation had come to an end. The atmosphere in the courtyard returned to one of light, easy, and now deeply, profoundly, and wonderfully intimate camaraderie.
It was at that moment that a new, delicious aroma began to waft from the kitchens. Ah Yin appeared in the doorway, a tray of freshly baked pastries and a pot of steaming, fragrant tea in her hands.
"Snacks are ready," she announced, her voice the perfect, humble murmur of a dutiful maid, though her crimson eyes, when they met Zhang Tian's, held a deep, shared amusement.
They all moved to the small stone table, their bodies a comfortable, tangled heap of limbs and relaxed, happy energy.
Zhang Tian sat down and then, with a casual, almost offhand grace that was a masterpiece of subtle, manipulative charm, he reached out and pulled Qian Renxue down onto his lap.
She let out a small, surprised yelp, her body going rigid for a fraction of a second before relaxing into his embrace. She was sitting on his lap. In front of his two fiancées. And her heart was hammering against her ribs with a wild, frantic, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly thrilling excitement.
He wrapped an arm around her slender waist, pulling her flush against his chest. His other hand, a brazen, possessive thing, came to rest on her flat, toned stomach, his fingers just brushing the lower swell of her magnificent, perfect breasts.
He then looked up at her, his blue eyes shining with a playful, innocent light that was anything but. "I am tired from all that dancing," he said, his voice a low, pleading murmur. "And my arms are so very sore. Would you be a good girl and feed me, Renxue?"
She just stared at him, her mind a dizzying, wonderful haze. She looked at Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing, expecting to see a storm of jealous fury. But they were just smiling, a shared, amused, and almost… welcoming expression on their beautiful faces. They knew their husband. They knew his games. And they knew, with a certainty that was as absolute as the sun in the sky, that this proud, powerful, and so obviously smitten goddess was already theirs. She just didn't know it yet.
With a deep, shuddering breath, her hands, which felt like they belonged to someone else, moved. She picked up a small, flaky pastry from the tray. And slowly, her heart hammering against her ribs, she brought it to his lips.
That evening, as the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of deep orange and soft violet, a new, and very interesting, proposition was made.
"You should stay the night, Renxue," Ning Rongrong said, her voice a casual, offhand sound, as if she were inviting a childhood friend for a sleepover.
"She is right," Zhu Zhuqing added, her own voice a low, cool murmur. "It is getting late. It would be… improper for a noble lady such as yourself to be traveling through the city alone at this hour."
Qian Renxue, who had been about to make her polite, formal excuses, paused. She looked at the two girls, at the genuine, if slightly mischievous, invitation in their eyes. She looked at Zhang Tian, at the warm, welcoming smile on his handsome face.
And she thought of her own, cold, empty, and lonely chambers in the Imperial Palace.
A strange, unfamiliar, and incredibly powerful feeling washed over her. A feeling of… belonging.
"I… I would be honored," she said, her voice a soft, almost shy whisper.
An hour later, she stood in a large, opulent guest chamber, a room that was even more luxurious than her own in the palace. A soft, silk nightgown, a beautiful, crimson garment that was far too large for her, but which smelled faintly of a strange, beautiful, and incredibly comforting floral scent, was draped over the back of a chair.
It was Ah Yin's. The beautiful, mysterious maid had offered it to her, a simple, quiet gesture of welcome.
Qian Renxue looked at herself in the large, ornate mirror. She looked… different. She looked… happy.
While a new, strange, and beautiful domestic harmony was settling over Zhang Tian's estate, a very different, and far more serious, conversation was taking place across the city.
Back at the Shrek Academy, in the quiet, cluttered office of the Dean, the air was thick with a palpable, almost suffocating, tension.
Flender paced the room like a caged animal, his usual greedy, cheerful demeanor completely gone, replaced by a mask of pure, unadulterated anxiety. Yu Xiaogang sat at his desk, his face a mask of stone, though the slight, almost imperceptible tremor in his hands betrayed his own, deep-seated unease.
Across from them, in the most comfortable chair the small, shabby office had to offer, sat the three powerful, imposing figures of the Clear Sky Sect.
Tang Xiao, Tang Ming, and Tang Haien listened, their expressions unreadable, as Flender, in a frantic, stumbling voice, recounted the events of that afternoon. He told them of the confrontation. He told them of the challenge. And he told them of the wager.
"…and he just said it!" Flender concluded, his voice a high, squeaky sound of pure, terrified disbelief. "He said if he loses, he'll take his own life! But if Dai Mubai loses… he'll be made into a eunuch! A eunuch! Sect Leader Tang, this is… this is madness! What if something goes wrong? The boy, Zhang Tian… he is the future son in law to the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect! If he is forced to take his own life on the tournament stage… the wrath of Ning Fengzhi, of the Sword Douluo and the Bone Douluo… it will be a cataclysm that will consume us all!"
He looked at Tang Xiao, his eyes pleading, desperate for some kind of reassurance.
Tang Xiao just sat there for a long, silent moment, his sorrowful eyes holding a deep, thoughtful light. He looked at Yu Xiaogang, who gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. He then looked at the two terrified, anxious men before him, and a faint, almost pitying, smile touched his lips.
"Do not be so worried, Dean Flender," he said, his voice a calm, steady sound that was a stark, jarring contrast to the frantic, panicked energy in the room. "This is a matter between the younger generation. A wager, however extreme, made in the heat of passion. As long as it is a fair fight, on the stage of the tournament, the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect will have no grounds to retaliate. And even if they did…"
He paused, and a flicker of the old, arrogant pride of the Clear Sky Sect entered his eyes. "My Clear Sky Sect will not stand by and watch our allies be bullied."
The words were a quiet, simple, but incredibly powerful promise. The weight of an entire Upper Three Sect, the legendary power of the Clear Sky Hammer, was now a shield that stood behind their small, fledgling academy.
Flender and Yu Xiaogang let out a shared, shuddering sigh of pure, unadulterated relief. The terror that had been a cold, hard knot in their chests for the past few hours finally, completely, and blissfully melted away.
Tang Xiao then turned his attention to the true purpose of his visit. He had the students summoned. He stood before the seven proud, powerful young geniuses who would represent the future of their new, powerful alliance.
He looked at his nephew, at Tang San, and his eyes were filled with a deep, paternal pride. "You have all grown strong," he said, his voice a low, powerful sound that resonated in the quiet room. "But your journey is far from over. The Emperor Team, as you know, is a seeded team. You will not face them in these preliminary rounds. Your true battle will take place in Spirit City. On the grandest stage of them all."
He looked from one to the other, his gaze lingering for a moment on the fierce, determined faces of Dai Mubai and his own nephew, Yu Tianheng. "I have heard of the wager that was made today. Do not let it cloud your judgment. Do not let your anger, your pride, be a weakness that your enemy can exploit. Fight with your heads, not just with your hearts."
He then looked at Tang San, and his voice was a low, final, and utterly, completely, and non-negotiable command. "And you, nephew… you will lead them. You will lead them to victory. Do not lose. The honor of our clan is now on your shoulders."
Tang San met his uncle's gaze, and his own eyes were burning with a fierce, unwavering fire. "I understand, Uncle," he said, his voice a clear, confident sound that held not a hint of doubt. "I will not fail. We will win."
With a final, approving nod, Tang Xiao and his two elders departed. They did not linger. They did not waste another moment in the city. Their business here was done. They shot into the sky, three dark, powerful meteors, their destination the thunder-wreathed fortress of their new, and very powerful, allies.
The meeting took place in the same, grand, cavernous throne room where the pact had first been sealed. But the atmosphere was different now. The tense, almost hostile energy of before was gone, replaced by a new, shared, and dangerously ambitious purpose.
Yu Yuanzhen stood before his throne, and he was not alone. He was flanked by four new, and terrifyingly powerful, figures. His brothers. The elders of his clan. The men who had been trapped at the precipice of power for decades.
And now, they had broken through.
The spirit bones had been the key. They had shattered the bottlenecks that had held them for so long, and their spirit power had soared to the ninetieth rank. The hunts in the Star Dou Great Forest, a joint effort of the Clear Sky and the Blue Lightning clans, had been a brutal, bloody, and glorious success. They had all acquired their ninth rings.
They were Titled Douluos. All of them. Level 91. Level 92. The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan was no longer a fortress held up by a single pillar. It was a pantheon of dragons.
Yu Yuanzhen looked at Tang Xiao, a slow, predatory smile on his handsome face. "It is good to see you, Tang Xiao," he boomed, his voice a deep, resonant sound of pure, confident power. "As you can see, the first phase of our plan is complete. My brothers are ready."
He then turned his attention to the true, and far more delicate, matter at hand. "Now," he said, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial murmur, "it is time for phase two. It is time we dealt with those arrogant merchants."
He looked at Tang Xiao, his golden eyes gleaming with a cold, ruthless light. "We must choose our target carefully. It must be a Spirit Douluo. Someone high enough in their sect to possess the secrets we desire, but not so high as to invite the full, immediate wrath of the Sword Douluo and the Bone Douluo. And the location… it must be secluded. A place where we can act without witnesses, without leaving a trace."
Tang Xiao nodded, his own face a mask of somber, strategic thought. "It will be difficult," he said, his voice a low, cautious sound. "The Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect, for all their wealth, are not fools. Their elders do not travel alone. They are always protected."
"Then we will create an opportunity," Yu Yuanzhen countered, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "A distraction. An ambush. We have the power now. We have the numbers. We just need to be patient. We need to be clever."
The two great leaders stood in the center of the thunder-wreathed hall, their minds a whirlwind of dark, dangerous plots, their new, powerful alliance a silent, ticking time bomb that was about to be unleashed upon a peaceful, unsuspecting world.
~~
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