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Inside the private room, the air seemed to solidify. Gu La sat calmly on the sofa, patiently meeting Ye Guyi's gaze.
It must be said that a top-tier martial soul profoundly shapes a cultivator's appearance and aura.
Though Ye Guyi wore a simple, even conservative, long-sleeved, long-pant soul guidance device expert's robe, she could not conceal the sacred radiance and innate grace that emanated from within.
Her skin was porcelain-smooth, her features exquisitely carved like a masterpiece of art. Her deep blue eyes were clear and bright, now filled with intense wariness, probing curiosity, and a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of hope as she locked onto Gu La.
Finally, Ye Guyi broke the silence. Her voice, cool and crisp, trembled slightly:
"Who are you? Why seek me out in such a manner? And…"
She raised her hand, palm up, revealing the dark red "Evil's Bane." "This soul guidance device—did you make it?"
"Yes," Gu La admitted directly, his tone matter-of-fact.
Ye Guyi's emotions surged visibly; her breathing quickened. She stepped forward, her voice thick with desperate hope and disbelief:
"Then… your martial soul… is it…?"
Gu La nodded. A thought stirred.
Instantly, brilliant golden light erupted from his body—warm, blazing, saturated with the holy aura of purification, cleansing all corruption.
A more majestic, sacred figure, seemingly forged from pure light and flame, slowly materialized behind him—the Holy Sun Angel!
Though its form differed slightly from the traditional six-winged angel, the essence of its pure, overwhelming, and even more intensely radiant divine and holy power was undeniable.
Feeling the sacred energy—same origin, yet evidently higher, purer—Ye Guyi's beautiful eyes widened in shock. Then, without warning, large tears spilled down her flawless cheeks.
No one knew how she had endured these years!
Her family annihilated by evil soul masters. She, alone, hiding among the common folk. Her greatest enemy: the vast, omnipresent Holy Spirit Cult.
The only woman who had saved her, who had offered her warmth, had died from wounds sustained in a battle against the Duskwater Alliance.
She bore a blood-deep grudge, yet dared not reveal her martial soul, terrified of drawing the attention of even stronger evil cultivators. Loneliness, terror, and hatred had tormented her day and night.
Today, she had finally found a "comrade"—another wielder of Holy Angel power, one who seemed impossibly stronger.
If a favor meter existed, Gu La would have seen Ye Guyi's affection for him skyrocketing—from complete stranger to absolute trust and dependence.
"You… you…" Ye Guyi choked, instinctively stepping closer as if to confirm this wasn't a dream.
But she halted mid-step, her face suddenly etched with frantic urgency.
"You… you haven't revealed your identity, have you?! You must not! The Duskwater Alliance hides many evil soul masters. If they learn of your existence, they will spare no effort to eliminate you!"
Her words jolted Gu La. He rubbed his chin, realization dawning. "Oh, evil soul masters… You reminded me. I'd nearly forgotten."
He recalled how, after several failed attempts against him in Shrek, the evil cultivators had vanished with eerie silence.
Now he understood—they weren't giving up. They were preparing something far larger.
He had come to the Sun Moon Empire—like a lamb walking into a den of tigers. The Holy Spirit Cult's strike was surely imminent.
Moreover, Ye Guyi had not detected that his "martial soul" was in fact a spirit. This eased Gu La's concerns—he'd been overcautious. But then again, this was the discipline of an actor: fully embody every role.
To be precise: in this era, before the spirit soul system had even emerged, even if Ye Guyi sensed subtle differences, she would attribute them to martial soul mutations or individual variance—never to the possibility of a spirit.
Their conversation flowed smoothly and warmly after that.
Gu La revealed his name and his status as an exchange student from Shrek Academy, and told her that if she ever encountered insurmountable trouble, she could find him at the Sun Moon Imperial Soul Engineering Academy.
Before parting, Gu La even gifted Ye Guyi one of his own trigger-type eighth-grade defensive soul guidance devices.
"Take this. It can block an attack from a Titled Douluo when it matters most. Protect yourself."
Ye Guyi accepted the precious device, feeling the lingering warmth and the unhidden concern emanating from it. Her heart swelled with emotion; her eyes reddened once more.
As Gu La took his leave, she stood at the doorway, watching him depart with reluctant, lingering eyes—as if witnessing a sudden beam of light in her life, fearing it might vanish again.
…
Meanwhile, Jing Hongchen arrived at the imperial palace, his heart heavy, seeking an audience with the Emperor of the Sun Moon Empire.
In the opulent yet medicinally scented imperial bedchamber, Jing Hongchen faced a middle-aged man lying on a soft couch—pale, frail, and racked with illness—the current Emperor.
Jing Hongchen immediately knelt and begged forgiveness, offering no explanation, merely expressing his remorse for introducing such a dangerous individual.
The Emperor, exhausted, waved a weak hand. "I absolve you. Rise and speak."
When Jing Hongchen stood, he recounted everything that had transpired in the laboratory—especially the dozens of soul guidance devices, each equivalent to an eighth-grade fixed-type projectile, strapped to Gu La's person, and the madman's threats to blow up the academy, the palace, and kill the Crown Prince…
The already frail Emperor nearly choked to death.
He convulsed in violent coughs, his face turning crimson. This exchange program—intended to learn Shrek's technology and demonstrate imperial strength—had resulted in… what?
A sentient, walking bomb, capable of detonating the capital at any moment.
Yet he had already declared Jing Hongchen innocent. He could not retract his words. Moreover, strictly speaking, it wasn't entirely Jing Hongchen's fault—who could have foreseen Shrek sending such a madman?
The Emperor gasped for breath, finally waving him off with a feeble gesture: "I… I understand. I will increase palace patrols… and assign watchers to ensure he never approaches any critical area… Master Hongchen… you may go…"
He felt he needed immediate rest—and a stronger dose of medicine.
Jing Hongchen bowed deeply and withdrew.
After leaving the palace, he hurried directly to the Crown Prince's residence. This visit was open and aboveboard; the Emperor knew, and no secrecy was required.
Inside the Crown Prince's mansion, Xu Tianran, upon hearing of Jing Hongchen's arrival, was genuinely pleased, believing good news had come. He even mustered the strength to rise from his wheelchair and meet him at the gate, granting the Master of Mingde Hall due honor.
Yet, when he heard Jing Hongchen's full account in the private chamber—the threats, the weapons, the words "kill the Crown Prince"—
The crippled prince nearly leapt from his chair in rage.
Though he had reached the Titled Douluo level through pharmaceutical enhancement, his foundation was hollow. He could not withstand even one explosion of an eighth-grade fixed-type projectile, let alone a hundred detonating nearby. It was a blade hanging directly above his head.
His face darkened, almost dripping with malice: "Master Hongchen! Are we to allow this foreigner to threaten you, me, and the imperial heir so brazenly?!"
Jing Hongchen sighed helplessly. "Your Highness, I… have no solution for now. Direct action carries too great a risk. The Academy and Mingde Hall cannot bear the consequences."
"The Emperor has agreed to increase surveillance and ensure he is kept far from the palace, the Crown Prince's residence, and other key locations."
Xu Tianran's expression softened slightly—but his inner killing intent boiled over.
He forced down his fury, dismissed Jing Hongchen with vague words, and signaled him to leave.
Jing Hongchen bowed and departed.
As the Hall Master of Mingde Hall vanished from view, Xu Tianran's gentle facade dissolved completely, replaced by icy malice and lethal intent.
He spoke suddenly to the empty shadow beside him: "Old Xue… can you arrange an assassination? Eliminate Gu La?"
He could not tolerate a man who could end his life at any moment—and who showed him no reverence whatsoever.
The shadow twisted. A withered figure materialized soundlessly—the chief bodyguard of the Crown Prince's residence, and one of the Empire's most elite Venerables: the Shadow Douluo, Xue Chen.
He slowly shook his head, his voice dry as dead wood: "Your Highness, intelligence indicates Gu La possesses dual martial souls: Ultimate Fire and Ultimate Light. His Angel martial soul appears to command an exceptionally advanced elemental transformation technique—he can instantly convert his body into pure elemental form."
"Unless a Limit Douluo intervenes directly, or a specialized countermeasure is employed, even I cannot guarantee the instantaneous annihilation of all his elemental forms. Should I fail—even for a single instant—he will react. The consequences would be catastrophic. The cost outweighs the gain."
Xu Tianran fell silent, fingers digging into the armrests of his wheelchair. After a long pause, he ground out: "…Understood. We'll… plan carefully."
Yet in his lowered gaze, dangerous light flickered. He silently repeated four words in his mind: Angel martial soul…
That day, both the imperial palace and the Crown Prince's residence simultaneously raised their patrol intensity and alert levels to unprecedented heights.
The tension spread rapidly, leaving Mingdu's nobles and high officials bewildered—but all instinctively bolstered their personal guards. A hidden current surged through the upper echelons of the capital.
To prevent mass panic, the Emperor and Xu Tianran issued strict orders to suppress all information. The truth remained utterly hidden from the public.
That night, in the Crown Prince's study.
A shadowy figure appeared without warning before Xu Tianran, radiating chilling, sinister energy.
Clad in a black robe, his face concealed beneath the hood's shadow, stood the Sect Leader of the Holy Spirit Cult—the Level 98 Super Douluo: Zhongli Wu.
His demeanor showed no respect—bordering on condescension—yet he maintained surface courtesy:
"Crown Prince, why summon me at this hour?"
The Holy Spirit Cult and the Crown Prince were allies, not master and servant. But since the Cult had needs, they tolerated Xu Tianran's arrogance.
Xu Tianran was accustomed to Zhongli Wu's attitude. He seethed inwardly but dared not lash out—he still needed the Cult's formidable power.
His face darkened. "I need you to kill someone."
"Oh?" Zhongli Wu's interest stirred. He reclined, composed. "Who is so foolish as to anger the Crown Prince? Killing is no problem. But… does His Highness intend to fulfill the conditions you already promised us? Trade requires reciprocity."
Xu Tianran had anticipated this. He replied calmly, evasively: "Sect Leader Zhongli, no need to rush. When I ascend the throne, the Holy Spirit Cult shall become the state religion, and you, its Grand Preceptor, shall enjoy endless honor. Why rush? Moreover…"
His tone shifted: "The man I wish you to kill… is one of your Cult's greatest enemies."
Zhongli Wu was immune to Xu Tianran's empty promises—but the latter half piqued his curiosity. "Oh? Who?"
Xu Tianran's lips curled into a cold smile. He spoke two words slowly:
"Gu La. The Angel martial soul wielder. He is now in Mingdu."
"What?!" Zhongli Wu's voice sharpened into a shriek of murderous intent, his demonic aura surging violently.
The Angel martial soul—his Cult's sworn mortal enemy! He had once dispatched three Titled Douluos, confident of success. But Shrek Academy had proven even more monstrous: they sent the Level 98 Xuan Zi himself to lead the mission. The operation failed utterly. The Evolution Watches recovered could not be replicated. He had been furious.
Zhongli Wu had intended to bide his time. After all, what threat was an Angel martial soul? It took decades to mature. Until then, it was merely a Soul Ancestor.
But that didn't mean he'd let a gift-wrapped target slip away. Learning Gu La was in Mingdu, his eyes flashed with lethal brilliance.
Xu Tianran briefly explained the exchange program orchestrated by Jing Hongchen and Gu La's current identity and location. He had no qualms about making Jing Hongchen's life more difficult.
When Gu La was killed, Shrek Academy would erupt in fury and retaliate. As the primary responsible party, Jing Hongchen would bear the blame—and Xu Tianran could use the chaos to seize full control of Mingde Hall and its master.
In one move, he transformed a deadly threat into an opportunity to consolidate his own power.
"Good! Excellent!" Zhongli Wu's voice turned glacial. "He has no path to heaven, yet rushes headlong into hell. Rest assured, Your Highness—this man is our mortal enemy. I will kill him myself."
Without another word of courtesy, he rolled his black robe around him and vanished into the shadows as if dissolving into darkness.
Xu Tianran sat alone in his wheelchair, gazing at the heavy night beyond the window, a cold, satisfied smile spreading across his face.
He reveled in the power of authority—the ability to decide the fate and life of others with a single word.
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