Chapter 14: The Saint's Tongue and the Serpent's Feast
The air in the council hall, once brittle with the threat of a Limit Douluo's wrath and an elder's spite, began to thaw. Qian Gu Zhangting's rhetoric had been a masterclass in political alchemy. He had spoken of the Federation, of Shrek Academy's "peace," and of the public's thirst for justice.
To the untrained ear, it sounded like a sermon. To the masters of power sitting at that table, it was a beautifully wrapped ultimatum. By conspicuously leaving the Spirit Pagoda off his list of "righteous" observers, he had made their presence the most undeniable truth in the room. He had used the art of metaphor to provide a definitive answer without leaving a single shred of evidence for future critics to seize upon.
But Zhangting wasn't finished. He knew that to truly bind a beast like the Body Sect, he needed to offer more than just a "Spirit Pagoda" promise. He needed to offer a person.
"Furthermore," Zhangting added, his voice regaining that cool, detached edge, "from this day forth, I am not merely a representative of the Tower. I am a disciple of the Body Sect. I will call Sect Master Mu Ye 'Teacher' with all the sincerity that title demands."
He turned his gaze toward the younger disciples and the vacant seats of the future.
"I may be the heir to the Tower, but to the next generation of this sect, I will be a brother, a relative, and a comrade-in-arms. What is the difference between my relationship with the future Sect Master and the bond between Elder Poison and Sect Master Mu?"
He let the question hang, then struck the final blow.
"Once my cultivation reaches the required height, it will not be the Spirit Pagoda 'purging a traitor.' It will be me, a disciple of the Body Sect, cleaning my own house. It is my duty to my teacher. It is my duty to our honor."
The logic was as flawless as the golden body they so revered. He promised nothing on behalf of the Spirit Pagoda, yet as the probable future Master of that very Tower, his personal promise was worth more than a dozen signed treaties.
Elder Poison, the man who had been ready to walk into a suicidal exile, slowly sank back into his seat. He was a man of the old world; he understood the weight of a disciple's oath.
"I have waited decades," the old man rasped, his toxic green eyes softening with a flicker of genuine hope. "I do not mind waiting a few more for a talent such as yours to bloom."
The Silent Coronation
A collective sigh of relief rippled through the hall, but beneath it lay a new, profound realization. The high-ranking members of the Body Sect began to look at Zhangting with a fear that surpassed their respect for his grandfather.
If the earlier negotiations were a script prepared by the Spirit Pagoda, this last exchange was pure, unadulterated Zhangting. Qian Gu Dongfeng had watched from the side, his expression unreadable, but his heart swelling with a dark pride. He had intended to train his grandson; he hadn't realized he had unleashed a sovereign.
Mu Ye, the Sect Master, watched with a heart that felt like it was being squeezed. Why? he thought, a familiar envy burning in his chest. Why can't the Body Sect produce a successor like this? If he had a Zhangting, he wouldn't be signing away his sect's autonomy for a handful of resources.
With a heavy heart and a trembling hand, Mu Ye began the ritual of the ink. He signed his name, then pressed his personal seal and the ancient jade seal of the Body Sect onto the stack of documents. The scrolls were passed to the elders—each signing for their specific jurisdiction—and finally, they came to Zhangting.
Zhangting was the only one required to sign every single page. He was the bridge. He was the person primarily responsible for this "peaceful evolution."
As the final seal was pressed, the deal was done. The Body Sect, once the fierce guardians of the Heavenly Soul Empire, was now officially a limb of the Spirit Transmission Tower.
The Banquet of Moonlight and Marrow
To mark the occasion, a banquet was held under the silver light of a rising moon. The Body Sect might have been declining, but they were still masters of the physical form, and that mastery extended to the culinary arts of body refinement.
The tables groaned under the weight of legendary ingredients:
Deep-Sea Red Jade Shrimp: Harvested from the crushing depths to strengthen the marrow.
Arctic Moonlight Rice: Grown in soul-rich permafrost to stabilize internal energy.
Ancient Earthworm Tendons: Braised for days to enhance the flexibility of soul master meridians.
The atmosphere was electric. Toasts were made, and the phrase "Drink to the brim!" echoed through the courtyard. It was the age-old tradition of the Douluo Continent: once you bleed and eat together, you are no longer strangers.
Zhangting did not use this time to cultivate. He knew that power was found in the shadows between conversations. He drifted through the crowd, his exceptional mental talent acting like a high-speed camera. Within an hour, he had memorized the faces, temperaments, and subtle tics of over a hundred Body Sect elites.
As he walked toward the back of the pavilion, he noticed a group of children—too young for martial soul awakening, but old enough to watch the world with hungry, curious eyes. They were the "children's pavilion," the future that he had just bought and paid for.
Chapter 15: Aruheng
In this world of men, one must not only do well; one must be influential.
Zhangting stepped into the shadows of the secondary courtyard, away from the clinking glasses. His eyes, sharpened by soul power, caught sight of a boy standing apart from the other children. He was larger than the rest, his frame already showing the rugged sturdiness of the Body Sect's lineage.
The boy wasn't looking at the food or the lanterns. He was staring at his own hands, his fingers twitching in a rhythmic, martial pattern.
"The banquet is out there, little brother," Zhangting said, his voice startling the boy.
The child turned. His eyes were fierce, lacking the polished restraint of the elders. This was a raw, uncarved stone.
"I don't care about the food," the boy grunted. "I want to know when I can start hitting things."
Zhangting smiled, a genuine, dangerous expression. "Strength isn't just about hitting things. It's about knowing where to hit so they never get up again."
He looked at the boy's broad shoulders. "What's your name?"
"Aruheng," the boy replied, squaring his jaw. "And one day, I'll be the one they call the Flawless Golden Body."
Zhangting's eyes flashed. In his memory of the future, Aruheng was a name that carried weight—the future senior brother of Tang Wulin, a man of terrifying physical power.
"Aruheng," Zhangting whispered, reaching out to pat the boy's shoulder. As his hand touched the child, a jolt of static soul power snapped between them.
The "mystery" of the timeline was shifting again. Zhangting could feel it. The scent of lilies returned, faint but unmistakable, drifting from the very direction Aruheng had been staring.
"Tell me, Aruheng," Zhangting said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Who else has been talking to you tonight? Someone... with silver hair?"
The boy's eyes widened in shock. "How did you know about the Big Sister?"
Zhangting's heart skipped a beat. Gu Yuena. She was already here, moving through the shadows of the Body Sect. The game was no longer a slow burn—it was a forest fire.