Dai Tianfeng forcibly crushed the turbulent emotions rising in his chest.
He shot Dai Weisi a meaningful glance.
Weisi instantly understood—
and stepped forward, eager to re-establish his authority.
He puffed out his chest, channeling the arrogance of the Great Imperial Prince, and barked at Zhu Zhuyun:
"Why aren't you coming over?!"
"Can't you see there are esteemed guests? As the future Imperial Consort, do you have no manners?!"
It was a reprimand—
but also a proclamation of ownership.
He wanted everyone present—including the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School—to understand:
This woman, with her reborn beauty and perfect figure, belonged to him.
But then Zhu Zhuyun turned her head.
Her peach blossom eyes finally landed on Dai Weisi.
And in that instant—
Everything Dai Weisi thought he knew about her shattered.
No hidden fear.
No timid submission.
No tolerance.
Only an icy, crystalline indifference.
The kind of look one reserved for insects.
Her red lips curved slightly.
"What are you?"
Her tone was soft—
but in the deathly quiet hall, it detonated like a thunderstorm.
"And you think you are worthy of ordering me?"
The court froze.
Every official stood rooted in place, expressions blank, jaws slack.
Dai Weisi's fury evaporated.
Shock engulfed him.
Then disbelief.
What… did she just say?
His face contorted.
"Bitch! You're courting death!"
Spirit power surged to his arm as he swung a palm toward Zhu Zhuyun's perfect face.
She was his possession.
A toy.
A woman who dared disobey needed discipline.
But—
His hand never reached her.
Because—
A shadow flashed before his eyes.
He couldn't even comprehend what moved.
A split second later—
S L A P !!!
The sound was so sharp it drowned out even the thunder shaking the palace roof.
Half of Dai Weisi's face instantly went numb.
Then pain—raw, bone-crunching pain—flooded his skull.
His body left the ground entirely, thrown like a ragdoll.
He spun.
He flew.
The last thing he saw was his father's expression freezing mid-breath, the officials' eyes bulging in horror.
Then—
THUD!
He crashed onto the golden bricks and slid several meters.
Blood and broken teeth spilled from his mouth.
Silence.
Absolute, suffocating silence.
The officials who expected to watch the drama of the Prince disciplining his fiancée—
Now looked like petrified statues.
Their faces were stuck between disbelief and terror.
That…
That was His Royal Highness the Great Imperial Prince.
Future Emperor.
Slapped across the hall like a stray dog.
In front of the Emperor.
And by—
Someone behind Zhu Zhuyun?
Dai Tianfeng's face twitched uncontrollably.
He had watched with his own eyes as his most prized son was humiliated.
That slap struck not just Dai Weisi—
but the entire imperial lineage.
His temples pulsed.
A vein throbbed near his eye.
He stared at Ning Fengzhi, his voice trembling with suppressed rage:
"My Star Luo Empire has never wronged your Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School!"
"You barge into my palace with a Titled Douluo and injure my Imperial Prince before my entire court!"
His fury exploded.
He shot to his feet.
"I demand an explanation!"
"What is your Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School intending?!"
He wanted to believe Zhu Zhuyun was the cause.
But logic said—
Impossible.
A woman could not provoke the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School to act like this.
But Ning Fengzhi… simply shook his head.
Then—
He turned toward Zhu Zhuyun and made a slight bow.
A soft, humble "please" gesture.
As if…
Zhu Zhuyun was the true master here.
"Your Majesty has misunderstood."
Ning Fengzhi's voice was soft, calm, perfectly respectful.
"This Ning is merely an employee today."
Dai Tianfeng froze.
He thought he misheard.
The Sect Master of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School—
a leader of the Upper Three Sects—
An… employee?
For whom?
His gaze stiffened—
and unwillingly drifted toward the woman at the center of the hall.
Zhu Zhuyun.
A thunderclap exploded outside.
Lightning illuminated the hall—
and her cold, detached eyes.
She didn't look at the Emperor.
Nor at Dai Weisi, who lay on the floor like discarded trash.
She simply waved a hand.
A tiny gesture.
Bone Douluo understood instantly.
He flicked his arm—casually.
Like tossing garbage.
THUD—
A mutilated man landed heavily on the floor.
He rolled, revealing a blood-smeared face framed by golden hair.
Dai Tianfeng's heart dropped into his stomach.
Zhu Zhuyun finally spoke.
Her voice clear, cold, and carrying not even the slightest hint of respect.
"Your Majesty."
"My Master heard that your Third Imperial Prince caused trouble outside."
She approached with long strides, her heel nudging the man's bowed head.
"So he instructed me to return him to you."
A pause.
Then—
A sweet, beautiful, brutally arrogant line:
"No need to thank me."
Breathing stopped.
Dai Weisi, still struggling to rise, froze completely.
Feng Ran Pavilion – Live Broadcast Room
In the live image, Zhu Zhuyun's soft, intoxicating "My Master" echoed elegantly through the hall.
Every Titled Douluo in the pavilion went rigid.
They exchanged looks.
Then—they understood.
Completely.
So this is what the Senior liked.
Employee? Divine envoy? Outer titles.
The real ones…
used this title.
Chrysanthemum Douluo even fluttered his fingers, whispering to Ghost Douluo:
"The Senior… truly knows how to enjoy life…"
Lin Feng: "…"
His molars ached.
What nonsense was Zhu Zhuyun shouting in public?!
Privately—
when doors were closed—
No! They didn't even have private!
His reclusive, divine-master persona—
was about to derail into an unrecognizable mess!
Behind him, the jade-like hands massaging his shoulders paused—
then pressed harder.
A soft, fragrant body leaned closer to his back.
Bibi Dong's breath grew warm.
Master… hmm?
_____________________
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