Dang—Dang—Dang!
The bells of a hundred towers pealed across the valley. Music rose, echoing through the hills, mingling with the rhythm of drums. The long-awaited day had arrived: the completion of Subei's palace.
From the air, the city looked like an array drawn by immortals. Green belts coiled like dragons, gardens and rivers woven into symmetry. At the heart of it sparkled the sprawling palace itself—its walls gleaming like jade, its courtyards as vast as fortress squares. It looked as though divine beasts had gathered here, circling to guard a single shining pearl.
Bridges arched like rainbows, streams gushed with mountain clarity, and blossoms swayed in fragrant tides. Every stone, every ripple seemed enchanted to please the eyes and ease the spirit.
Welcoming the World
"Visitors, this way, please."
At the palace gates, a striking purple-haired young woman in the Deacon's uniform smiled at the swelling crowd. Her voice, crisp and lively, managed both grace and warning:
"The reception hall is prepared. Wine, meat, fruits of every kind—for ten days, the feasting is free. Enjoy yourselves!"
The quiet countryside Subei had chosen was no longer silent. Merchants, soul masters, nobles, curious travelers—all streamed toward the miraculous city.
Some came for the architecture. Liang Sicheng, the famed designer from Tiandou, walked proudly between them, declaring, "Only such a palace barely deserves to shelter His Highness."
Others came only to gawk—drawn by the endlessly swelling rumors of Subei.
The boy with the childlike face of a god.
The teacher-killer, stealing hearts as easily as breathing.
The millennium's most beautiful man, raising the ceiling of human aesthetics forever.
They whispered, eyes darting eagerly, fantasies stirred into flame. Rumors said women who merely glimpsed him could no longer marry ordinary men. Others claimed painters had grown rich selling his likeness, though every sketch paled to reality.
Indeed, the entire painter's guild had exploded into prominence, their greatest ambition summed up in one impossible dream: to capture Northern Jiangsu's face honestly, without insult to the divine truth.
Today's event only magnified that frenzy. Every corner was filled with sketchbooks. The moment Subei raised the palace plaque would mean dozens of "masterpieces" born in ink.
Guardians of Beauty
"Strange, isn't it…" two soul masters gossiped outside the gates, eyeing the passing honor guard. "Not a single male escort. They're all women—every soldier!"
The purple-haired deacon smirked knowingly.
"His Highness embodies the Yang of the Dragon. To balance such energy, Feng Shui dictates an army of Yin. Thus, every knight of this palace is female. Don't underestimate them. Each is a Soul King-level guardian. And there are thousands."
The warning in her voice came with laughter, but her eyes gleamed sharp. "Oh, and one more rule. Don't. Flirt. They serve His Highness only. Offend them… and the consequences are very serious."
To prove her point, guards dragged two wailing men out of the marble path, clutching their crotches, faces screwed in agony. Whispers rippled as they were tossed aside like garbage.
"Salty pig hands," the deacon girl said cheerfully. "They thought our knights were for teasing. A mistake they regret—and survive only barely."
The crowd laughed nervously.
One old man elbowed his friend. "Come on, Wang. Enough gossip. Let's head in and sample that free wine."
A Beastly Gift
But just as the laughter rose—
Screeeeech!
A wild crane's cry split the heavens. The sunlight dimmed as black shadow swept overhead. The crowd gasped as a vast crane, wings spanning ten meters, descended beyond the palace. Its wings blotted sky, its aura radiated fierce age. The valley trembled under its landing.
"Ziji!"
Subei nearly fell off his chair. His mouth twitched uncontrollably as he looked up at the smug dragoness mounted atop the beast.
"Dear King," Ziji said brightly, patting his cheek as if consoling a child, "your home is complete. As the future mother of your little dragons, of course I must bring gifts."
She tugged on the giant crane's leg as though presenting a puppy. "This Immortal Crane has cultivated seventy thousand years. Its strength is pure, its temperament rare. Though weaker than the Titan Ape, it is loyal. Play with it as you like—it's been tamed."
Play?! Subei nearly sputtered. Ziji's "entertainment" vocabulary was going to kill him one day.
Carelessly she added, "Oh, and I roused other beasts too. They'll bring gifts soon enough. The Demon King has a Pure Soul Flower, condensing spirit and purifying poison. Red King and Brigitte guard a three-eyed Golden Dragon beast—its aura alone elevates cultivation. Even old Xiong Jun might lumber up with something… edible."
As though that weren't enough, she winked and whispered, "Once all gifts are delivered, we'll slip away quietly… and work on our little dragon cubs."
…Ziji, please.
Leaving that bomb, she caught sight of Bibi Dong approaching and stiffened. Remembering her past "brushing" against the Pope's terrifying strength, Ziji bolted instantly into the mountains, calling back: "I'll see you tonight, my King!"
Teacher and Disciple
The Pope herself ascended the steps, robes flowing. She glanced after the vanished Ziji but made no move to pursue.
"Xiaobei," she said gently, gesturing to the glittering city, "this is your home. Your kingdom."
Her voice softened as her gaze rested on him. "This city exists only for you. For us."
Gone was the steel tone of the Pope. Here was only a woman—tired, weary, yet easing into comfort at his side.
Bibi Dong had built empires in her youth. She once dreamed of toppling Tiandou, of forging Spirit Hall into a single unified nation. Her every breath had been politics, power, survival. But since Subei, her ambitions trembled, softened.
And now, her confession slipped through tired lips. "Sometimes, Xiao Bei… when I look at you, I think: if you never grew up… I may already be too old."
Her jealousy was bitter. Ziji, Brigitte—soul beasts who never aged, their beauty eternal. But she was human. Even as a near-Limit Douluo, she had at best two centuries left, her youth stopping well short of that.
Time would not be merciful.
Words Sweeter than Wine
Subei's smile glittered. "No, Teacher. Your youth will never fade. I'll make sure of it. When I see you, I will always see beauty."
Her cheeks flushed faintly. "Sweet-talker. Little fox. No wonder even Xue'er and Nana have fallen for you."
To others, sweet words from unexceptional mouths were cheap tricks. Ugly and poor—disgusting. Handsome but wealthy—disarming. But from Subei, whose face shattered hearts and demolished all standards of beauty, flattery itself became fragrance. Words became explosions.
She glared lightly at him. "Knowing you're sweet, you even blackmail us with threats of disfigurement."
"I can't help it," he teased. "I'm too weak against Teacher's power. Without my face, how else could I win arguments? Though one day, with enough strength, I'll conquer you head-on. Beat you down… maybe even spank you."
Her breath caught, heat blooming under her stern mask. Spank her? In Spirit Hall, ten thousand bowed before her name—yet no one had ever dared utter such words. The thought sent sinful warmth through her chest.
She swiped his nose with her fingertip, smiling shyly. "Then grow quickly, little Xiao Bei. I… will wait."
Secrets Whispered
But her eyes shifted again, troubled. "Xiao Bei… one more thing. Your schoolmate Tang San. He's locked himself away these months. Buying poisons, iron essence. He's changing, his aura feels strange. Have you any idea what he is planning?"
Subei blinked. Tang San? He nearly forgot that boy existed among his chaos of women. Probably training under Tang Hao, preparing schemes. His mind was already too full to chase that answer.
"I don't know," he said honestly.
"Mm." She mulled, unsatisfied, but let it pass.
Her gaze lingered again on the resplendent city, the female army of three thousand he had inexplicably mustered—fearless even against her Douluo aura. Another miracle stacking on his head, another secret locked inside this boy not even she could read.
The Plaque
A purple-haired knight approached quickly, bowing. "Master, the hour has come. Hundreds of envoys and soul masters are waiting."
She lowered her voice, eyes gleaming at Subei.
"It is time, Your Highness… to lift the plaque."
The day all of Douluo would see not just a palace—
but the boy who had already begun rewriting its destiny.
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