"Gulp, gulp, gulp…"
"Rongrong, stop pulling me. I can walk fine by myself."
What should have been a two-day trip turned into five. The reason was simple: Lucien drank the entire way. Every few steps, he "needed" another break atop a jar.
At last, they reached the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect. But as they approached, Lucien narrowed his bleary eyes. "Eh… Rongrong, why's it so empty? Where'd everyone run off to?"
Only a few duty disciples could be seen. The rest had vanished.
Rongrong forced a smile. "Ignore it. Come on, let's go see Father."
She already knew why. Word of Lucien's return had spread. The outer disciples, terrified of the timing, had scattered before he arrived.
Down the main steps, Sect Master Ning Fengzhi appeared personally to greet them.
His eyes brightened the moment he saw the boy. He strode forward, clapped Lucien's shoulder. "Good! Just come back."
He laughed warmly. "Smelly brat—you've grown up! Haven't seen you in four years, and you return as a Soul Sect."
"Gulp, gulp… ha!" Lucien drained his jar, then smirked. "Tch. Old geezer, I bet you haven't changed one bit either."
Chen Xin's face fell instantly.
"Pfft—hahaha!" Gu Rong nearly doubled over. "Ha! Kid's got a point. Finally someone says it!"
"You…" Chen Xin's hands tightened on his sword.
"You're not as good as him," Gu Rong added smugly.
"…." Chen Xin.
"…." Gu Rong.
"Come," Ning Fengzhi said quickly, ushering them inward. "Talk later, inside."
He supported Lucien with a steady hand. "This brat… still the same as before. Never changes."
"I'm already annoyed," Chen Xin muttered under his breath.
In the Sect chamber…
"Daddy!" Rongrong puffed her cheeks cutely. "Ever since Lucien Big Brother came, you don't care about me anymore."
"How could I not care about you?" Ning Fengzhi smiled, shaking his head.
"I'm teasing," Rongrong admitted, giggling. "How could I ever get jealous of Lucien Big Brother?"
With that, she spun lightly in the center of the chamber.
"Dad, Grandpa Jian, Grandpa Bone—time for a surprise. I promise your eyeballs will fall out."
Her Martial Soul surged forth.
Light blinded the hall as the familiar Seven Treasures Pagoda appeared—but this was no longer seven floors. Gleaming in nine layers of radiant brilliance, the Nine Treasures Glazed Tile Pagoda shone, lavish and divine.
"Nine… nine floors!"
Ning Fengzhi went pale with shock. Chen Xin froze mid-breath. Gu Rong leaned forward, wide-eyed.
"This… impossible," murmured Ning Fengzhi, trembling. "Rongrong—you, how is this possible?"
The Seven Treasure Glazed Pagoda—the Martial Soul that had defined their clan for centuries—was known to all. Its limit was absolute. No bearer had ever stepped into Title Douluo. And now—right before their eyes—the limitation was broken.
Rongrong bowed her head shyly. "This is all thanks to Lucien Big Brother."
All three turned to stare at him.
Lucien, sprawled on a seat with his wine jar, blinked back at them hazily. "…What're you looking at? Drink."
Their mouths twitched, remembering the rumors. The drunkard who frightened teachers, who toppled empires when smashed. Devil, genius, monster—names whispered from Tiandou to Xingluo.
And yet… they trusted he'd never harm Rongrong. Otherwise, they'd never have let him live this long.
Still. A Nine Treasures Pagoda?! Shock thundered through their hearts, though relief soon followed when Chen Xin and Gu Rong examined Rongrong's body. Sound. Better than before. Her foundation hadn't weakened—the immortal herb had enhanced it.
"Good. This… this is wonderful," Chen Xin said, though his tone was as gruff as ever. "But don't think this forgives your brat's nonsense."
"Why wait for later battles?" Lucien mumbled, one eye cracked open. "Let's spar now."
"Fear of you? Hah!"
"Then tomorrow."
"Agreed."
The challenge hung in the air, sharp and dangerous.
That night, in Lucien's room.
"Boom!"
"Xiao Yuan, it's me." Ning Fengzhi entered, carrying a tray.
"Ah! Uncle Ning—you brought wine, right?"
"…Porridge," Fengzhi said gently. "You need to eat."
Lucien sniffed, disappointed. "Uncle, don't waste your time. Next time bring wine."
Fengzhi sat across from him. "Lucien… do you still have more of what you gave Rongrong? That immortal grass?"
Lucien leaned back, took another swig. "No. If I find more later, I'll give it to you."
Fengzhi felt a pang of both loss and warmth. To be remembered even slightly was more than he expected.
Three rounds of wine later, Lucien's eyes narrowed. "Uncle Ning. What happened that day? When my Martial Soul awakened. Why do you all still avoid it?"
He only remembered waking up ten days after the ceremony, everyone treating him like a curse. Since then, Chen Xin's cultivation had stagnated. And it had all been because of the sword.
Fengzhi sighed. "That day, when your Martial Soul appeared, the sword erupted with power none of us foresaw. To save you, Uncle Jian resisted it—with his body. He was grievously injured."
Lucien tilted his head back and laughed drunkenly. "Bah. Leaving the Sect for that old thing? Don't make me laugh." He shoved another jar open. "Uncle Ning, drink!"
Fengzhi managed another two sips before darting out, gagging.
"Ugh…" He gagged against the wall. This brat could drink a horse under the table!
Inside, Lucien squinted into the night, eyes shadowed. "Chen Xin… you old fool."
Posted 22 hours ago