Spirit City.
Three days had passed since Yunchuan returned victoriously from slaying the bloodthirsty evil soul master.
During those days, he had made a decision.
He would leave on a journey.
At his current level of strength, ordinary forms of training were no longer effective. He needed new challenges—real experiences to sharpen him further. After all, in the twelve years since his birth, Yunchuan had barely left Spirit Hall apart from ceremonial appearances. Every excursion had been closely monitored and meticulously arranged performances—he was carted out as a spiritual symbol, a paragon of salvation to the masses—then escorted straight back in the cocoon of heavily armed retinues.
Never free to walk the world as he desired.
Now twelve, Yunchuan was no longer a child—not by the standards of this world. At that age, many from large clans were already engaging in independent cultivation journeys.
He didn't wish to remain in the shelter of Bibi Dong's wings forever.
To truly grow, he needed wind and rain—need to walk the land on his own two feet, to test strength against hardship, and to earn understanding through experience.
Only then would he cease being simply a prodigy—and become a man.
...
Bathed in the golden warmth of morning sunlight, Yunchuan approached the great golden gates of Spirit Hall. His noble looks and composed aura made him appear more like a vision than a mortal—every step seemed surrounded by light.
"Holy Son."
The two silver-armored temple knights at the entrance dropped to one knee the moment they saw the young man approaching.
With a slight nod, Yunchuan acknowledged them and continued inside, familiar as ever with the path to the Pope's ceremonial hall.
Inside the grand, gilded chamber...
Behind an ornate jade desk, Bibi Dong sat draped in a black robe interwoven with golden thread, a nine-layered golden crown resting atop her head. She was quietly reviewing petitions and scrolls—completely immersed in work.
The sound of footsteps on the shining mosaic floor caused her ears to twitch.
She looked up.
There, walking toward her with the light behind him, was her son.
Kill-sharp amber eyes softened in an instant.
"Chuan'er," she said, her coldness melting completely. "What's the matter? Come."
Yunchuan smiled bitterly at her inviting tone and beckoning hand—but still walked forward.
He knelt by her throne and gently laid his upper body on her lap, pressing his cheek against her soft silk robes like a child pleading for comfort.
He chuckled faintly.
"I'm not little anymore, Mom."
Bibi Dong looked down at him, brushing his once-boyish, now mature face with her jade-like fingers.
But in her eyes, he would always be her child.
"Speak. What is it that you came to ask me for?" Her voice was gentle, low, filled with warmth.
Yunchuan replied slowly, "I want to go out. Alone. Travel the world, temper myself."
Before he could finish, Bibi Dong's expression changed, her response swift and firm.
"No. Absolutely not."
"Why?" he asked, startled.
"You're too young," she said, fingers still stroking his hair. "The world outside Spirit Hall is vast… and dangerous. I can't—I won't let you go alone. What if something happened to you?"
"But Mother," Yunchuan said, lifting his head, his expression serious. "I'm a Soul Sage now. Do you truly believe I can't protect myself?"
His voice tightened into annoyance.
"Other disciples from great clans and sects go on journeys alone when they're barely Soul Kings or even Soul Elders. I'm at seven rings—and still not allowed?"
Bibi Dong hesitated.
Of course, she knew he was right.
She just couldn't say the real reason:
That she didn't want to be apart from him.
That she wasn't ready to let go.
To mask her emotion, she took a breath and shifted tone.
"If you want to leave, then prove to me… that you're truly capable of surviving on your own."
She smiled, though the gleam in her violet eyes was sly.
"There will be a test. Pass it—and I'll allow you to go."
Yunchuan narrowed his eyes, suspicion instantly spiking.
"A test?"
He didn't trust how quickly she'd agreed. Something was definitely up.
"You'll see tomorrow," she answered coyly, declining to elaborate.
That made him even more worried.
...
Next morning, just outside Spirit City in the wild countryside—
Yunchuan stood speechless.
He looked back and forth between Bibi Dong and the smiling man at her side… and sighed in defeat.
"...Mother, honestly," he muttered, "if you didn't want me to leave, you could've just said it. Did we really need to go through all this?"
Because Bibi Dong's "test" was clear:
Defeat—or survive against—Chrysanthemum Douluo.
The moment she said it, Yunchuan knew what it meant:
She never meant for him to pass.
Sure, he was a Soul Sage—unprecedented in strength, with seven black rings at just twelve years old, packed with original techniques.
But—
A Soul Sage was still a step away from Soul Douluo. And Chrysanthemum Douluo? He was a Titled Douluo.
The gap was... astronomical.
Even if he activated his plant domain, summoned vines from every direction, they wouldn't make a difference. Chrysanthemum Douluo could blast through them like leaves in the wind.
Game over.
Of course… if all he had to do was survive a single blow or resist pursuit, he could've pulled it off by hiding in his plant domain indefinitely.
But Bibi Dong added a rule.
"You're not allowed to use your domain," she had said gently, "no hiding. You must fight head-on."
"…How is that not the same as asking me to beat him?" Yunchuan moaned, face darkening.
"Relax," Bibi Dong chuckled, clearly entertained. "You don't have to defeat Elder Yueguan. All you need to do…"
She leaned forward ever so slightly, a teasing smile forming.
"…is survive for half an hour without losing."
Yunchuan went quiet.
Half an hour?
That… might be possible—if she hadn't thrown in the restriction.
Still, just when he saw a glimmer of hope, she slyly added, "Oh—and don't think you can just stall with tricks. No evasion tactics. You have to face him directly."
Yunchuan's face instantly collapsed again.
Seriously?
This was like asking a rookie fighter to spar Mike Tyson at full power while blindfolded.
But then Bibi Dong softened her tone.
"I'm not unreasonable," she said with a soft look. "Chrysanthemum Douluo will limit himself to only his first six soul skills. If you can force him to use any of the last three, or hold him off for half an hour—then you pass."
Yunchuan's eyes lit slightly. That was… workable.
While a Titled Douluo was terrifying, restricting their final three skills—which were often their aces—did indeed lower combat pressure. Maybe not to his level entirely, but close enough that he stood a fighting chance.
He thought it through—evaluated his options.
He could do this.
He had to.
"…Alright. I accept the challenge."
Across from him, Bibi Dong nodded slowly, pride and concern blending in her expression.
But inside—she didn't expect him to succeed.
After all, even with skill restrictions, a Titled Douluo was still on another plane: purer energy, honed instincts, decades more combat insight, and raw spiritual force that young Soul Sages just couldn't touch.
And Chrysanthemum Douluo wasn't just any Titled Douluo.
He was a monster among monsters—rank 95.
A legend whose Martial Soul had become synonymous with Spirit Hall authority.
And even if his strength had limits today—
He was more than enough to remind any hot-blooded youth of one simple truth:
There's always a higher mountain.
(End of Chapter)