Martial Soul City. Elder Hall.
Kneeling on the cold marble floor in front of the towering angel statue, Qian Renxue bowed her head. Her golden hair spilled like flowing light down her back. No matter how calm her expression seemed, her knees pressed against the unforgiving stone betrayed her stubborn resolve.
Standing before her was an old man with snow‑white hair. His frame wasn't broad, but simply standing there gave off a suffocating pressure, as if heaven and earth bowed before him. He wore nothing but a plain gray robe, yet his very presence inspired worship.
This man was the one who had devoted his life wholly to the Martial Soul Hall.
The ninety-ninth level Peerless Douluo—Qian Daoliu!
His voice was as sharp as a blade when he looked down at his granddaughter.
"What do you want me to say to you?"
"As the heir of the Angel Clan, you dared to release an evil soul master?" His beard quivered with rage, his sharp eyes seeming to tear into her. "Utterly ridiculous!"
That day, when Lu Yuan's aura had erupted at his ascension, Qian Daoliu had clearly sensed the thick, corrosive energy of evil. Without hesitation, he had dispatched six of the Martial Hall's consecrated Douluo to besiege him. With such a lineup, it should have been effortless to subdue an "evil soul master."
Yet the unexpected happened.
Not only had Lu Yuan escaped unscathed, but it was Qian Renxue—his very own granddaughter—who helped conceal him, openly shielding an "evil soul master" from capture.
For the Angel Clan, which took pride in their sacred purity, this was unprecedented, an act bordering on betrayal.
Worse, years of Qian Renxue's painstaking infiltration into the upper echelons of the Heaven Dou Empire were now shattered—all because she risked everything to save that boy.
How had his granddaughter become so reckless? So blind to the larger picture?
"He is not an evil soul master!" Even kneeling, Qian Renxue's voice was steady as she refuted him, head bowed but spirit unyielding.
Because she knew that unless her grandfather—the great Qian Daoliu—believed her, unless he personally declared to the world that Lu Yuan was innocent, then Lu Yuan would forever be branded, hunted by every sect and spirit master alive.
Qian Daoliu's face darkened further. "Don't tell me you didn't feel that darkness seeping from him? Have you forgotten what nearly happened to your own hand?!"
Qian Renxue froze momentarily. Her pale palm had indeed once turned black, invaded by the taint of that sinister energy. On her return to Martial Soul City, she kept enduring the pain in silence. It was only due to Qian Daoliu personally invoking the divine power of the Angel God that the corruption had been purged in time. Two days later and she might have lost her hand entirely.
The memory gnawed at Qian Daoliu's anger. His granddaughter's stubbornness was unbearable!
"A person who has never committed atrocities against the innocent, who has never acted against humanity—how can you blindly call him an evil soul master?!" Qian Renxue's voice rose. Her golden eyes, usually calm like still water, now carried sparks of fire.
But the Martial Soul Hall had already issued the decree. Thousands of elite spirit masters were hunting Lu Yuan relentlessly, and every whisper in the continent painted him as a monster.
"I think you've been completely brainwashed!" Qian Daoliu thundered. "Do you even realize what you are doing right now? You are defending an evil soul master! Why?!"
Qian Renxue's heart trembled. He thought she was lost, bewitched. Her throat tightened. For years, she had buried her true feelings, suffocated beneath the weight of duty, mission, and destiny. Yet now, pressed into a corner with no escape, the words slipped out like an arrow shot from her heart.
"Because…" Her voice quivered, eyes misting as her nose stung. "Because I… like him."
The hall fell utterly silent.
Qian Daoliu's mind trembled. His vision spun in disbelief. Did he mishear? Surely he misheard! How could a descendant of the Angel Clan—God's chosen spokespeople on earth—fall for an evil soul master? Impossible!
"What… did you say?" His chest heaved violently.
Qian Renxue sucked in a breath, then lifted her chin to meet his gaze directly.
"I said I like him!" Her voice cracked but grew firmer with each word. "I like him!"
She exhaled in relief. For the first time, she voiced the secret she had buried deep within her heart.
Qian Daoliu's entire being staggered. This future successor of the Angel God lineage had fallen in love with—him? With Lu Yuan?
Unimaginable. Intolerable.
A long silence stretched. Finally, he spoke, voice heavy as iron.
"Do you even understand what you are saying? You are the inheritor of the Seraphim Martial Soul, symbol of divinity, embodiment of purity. And that boy—Lu Yuan!—he walks the path of corruption! The two of you are bound to be eternal enemies!" He stabbed his staff against the floor, each syllable like a thunderclap.
"He! Is! An! Evil! Soul! Master!"
But Qian Renxue, eyes unwavering, still repeated, "He is not an evil soul master."
Her refusal drove Qian Daoliu to the edge. "Then tell me—where have you hidden him?!" His voice was laced with fury.
She turned her head away, lips pressed tight. Impossible. She would never betray him.
"Stubborn girl!" Qian Daoliu flung his sleeve angrily. "You will remain here in reflection. Until you come to your senses, do not set foot outside this hall again!"
With that, he departed swiftly, lest his rage truly overwhelm him.
Elsewhere within Martial Soul City, Golden Crocodile Douluo approached cautiously.
"Great Worship, what should we do now?" He had already rallied men to pressure the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, intending to force Ning Fengzhi to hand Lu Yuan over. But after Qian Renxue's actions, the situation shifted.
Qian Daoliu's expression was complicated, but his decision came swiftly.
"Search for him quietly." His voice dropped cold. "And stop this matter where it stands."
He dared not let word spread that Qian Renxue had openly shielded an "evil soul master." If this scandal ever reached the other sects, her name, her claim to being heir of the Angel God, everything would shatter.
He leaned beside Golden Crocodile Douluo, transmitting his words through spirit power so no one else could hear.
Meanwhile, far from Martial Soul City…
Within the Great Star Dou Forest, Tang Hao and Tang San continued their journey. Father and son had wandered for days through mountains, stopping frequently to rest and recover. Both their injuries had mostly healed. Though the winding paths were rough, to them, the terrain now felt manageable.
Beyond a ridge of stone peaks, they reached a serene pool where a waterfall plunged down, churning white foam. Tang San paused in wonder.
"Dad, why do we come here?"
Tang Hao's figure stiffened. For days his state of mind had been unstable, his silence heavy. Finally, stopping here, his expression grew even heavier.
"Little San," he said quietly, "come with me."
The grief etched in his weathered face deepened as they passed through the cascading curtain of water. Behind it lay a narrow cave, barely two meters wide and three meters tall.
"This…" Tang San whispered.
For him, the cave was dark and humble, with nothing but a shallow pit in the dirt. Yet Tang Hao's gaze was filled with pain.
"Here," Tang Hao's voice trembled faintly, "is where your mother once stayed."
Tang San froze. His mother… here? He had dreamt of her countless times, picturing her as a gentle woman in simple clothes waiting at the village gate, or perhaps a proud sect disciple with heroic presence. But a cramped, bleak cave? A dirt pit for a bed?
His heart refused to accept it.
"Little San," Tang Hao said, his voice hoarse, "sit. I will tell you everything… slowly."
And so he began recounting his past—his youth with Tang Xiao, his fateful meeting with A Yin, their love, their life together. The words scraped painfully from his chest, every memory reopening wounds that had never healed.
By the end, his body trembled. Because… A Yin was gone. Lost forever.
Tang San listened numbly. Shock drowned his thoughts. His mother wasn't human—she had been a hundred‑thousand‑year soul beast, who sacrificed herself, leaving only her soul bone and spirit behind.
Impossible. Unbelievable. But the truth stood before him.
Slowly, he extended his right palm. Blue Silver Grass sprouted between his fingers, soft, with that faintly sweet fragrance. Yet now he realized—this was no mere Blue Silver Grass. What flowed in his veins was the bloodline of the Blue Silver Emperor.
He turned to see his father silently gazing at the crude pit where A Yin had once lain. His sorrow was endless.
Tang San felt a corresponding ache. Just as he mourned Xiao Wu's absence, his father mourned A Yin. Father and son shared the same tragic fate—both had fallen for spirit beasts and lost them. Indeed, fate was cruel.
His thoughts twisted darkly. Murderous intent flared in his eyes. All of this… it was because of that damned Lu Yuan!
"Little San," Tang Hao's rumbling voice cut into his son's thoughts, "I had wanted to wait until you stood strong before telling you this. But you…" His face tightened, anger seeping into his grief. "You should never have stolen the forbidden technique of the Clear Sky Clan!"
Tang San's heart clenched. His father was right. The moment he wielded the Great Sumeru Hammer in the All‑Continent Tournament, Clear Sky Sect would have known. Now, not only Martial Soul Hall, but also Clear Sky Sect might become their enemies.
"Dad, I know… it's unforgivable to steal the school's unique arts. But I never exposed the secrets publicly. Isn't the Great Sumeru Hammer called a divine skill? Shouldn't we spread it, so the Clear Sky Sect can rise again? One day I'll return and bring it prosperity!"
His defiant words drew silence.
To Tang Hao, they sounded like sophistry. to Tang San, it felt like déjà vu—just like his previous life, when theft of forbidden techniques cast him off the cliff and into another world.
"…Enough." Tang Hao finally cut him short. "From today on, I'll personally train you. You practice here. The hammer techniques your uncle taught you are good, but there are gaps. I'll correct them."
At the same time, within Clear Sky Sect itself.
Elders gathered in fury.
"I objected from the beginning to bringing Tang San back. And now? Our sect's most sacred inheritance, the Great Sumeru Hammer, has been stolen by that little brat!"
"If the father is a traitor, the son is the same! They are both ungrateful wolves!"
"Kill him! Hunt him to the ends of the world if necessary!"
The chamber filled with thunderous rage. Tang San's use of the forbidden technique had ripped open old wounds.
Tang Xiao, the Sect Master, sat heavy with guilt, age showing between every line of his face. "This incident… I will account for it," he rasped. "From this day, the sect's scripture pavilion must be guarded even more strictly."
Chief Elder stepped forward. "Sect Master, we should depart for now. You've already endured too much."
Tang Xiao barely nodded. The Elders withdrew, though not without side‑glances.
At last, alone in the chamber, Tang Xiao struck the table with explosive force, shattering it into dust. His chest heaved as fury erupted at last. He had gone against the elders to shelter Tang San, had poured effort into teaching him the sect's treasured techniques, even risked the sect's safety. And what did he receive?
Betrayal. Ingratitude.
That child had still stolen their forbidden arts.
How could he not be consumed with hate?
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