In Bibi Dong's heart, it felt as if a brand-new door had just been kicked open by Zhu Zhuyun.
So…
It could be done like this?
That little girl from the Zhu family had only arrived a step earlier, yet she already dared to boldly claim sovereignty with a single word—
"Master."
And she succeeded in seizing favor instantly.
Then why couldn't she, Bibi Dong, say it?
In appearance, in status, in strength—
Where exactly did she lose to Zhu Zhuyun?
On the other side, Hu Liena stood behind the counter, clutching the corner of her robe.
An alarm blared in her heart.
A powerful, unprecedented sense of crisis!
She was the first employee, the earliest follower, and she still obediently called him "Senior."
Yet Zhu Zhuyun had appeared for just half a day before boldly ascending in rank—
jumping straight to "Master"!
Absolutely not!
Her veteran status must never be shaken by a newcomer!
It seemed… she needed to study even more advanced forms of address.
Inside the light screen—
The blood-drenched man thrown onto the floor struggled to lift his head.
What used to be a handsome face was now nothing more than a contorted mask of agony and despair.
"F… Father… save me…"
Dai Mubai squeezed out these last words with the remnants of his spirit power.
His voice trembled like a candle flickering in the wind—ready to die at any moment.
Zhu Zhuyun gazed down at him.
Cruel triumph curled on her beautiful lips—
the satisfaction of long-awaited revenge.
"Since you've said your last words…"
"Then, Dai Mubai—just die."
She raised her foot.
The sharp tip of her high heel aligned perfectly with his fragile throat—
and slowly pressed down.
No spirit power.
No flashy technique.
Just slow, deliberate, sadistic force.
Inside the vast hall, everyone could clearly hear the grinding creak—
the unmistakable sound of a windpipe on the verge of collapse.
"Presumptuous!!"
Dai Tianfeng's yellow robe flared without wind.
Terrifying spirit power burst out in all directions.
He didn't even look at Dai Mubai.
His bloodshot eyes locked onto Zhu Zhuyun.
His son—his bloodline—even if he was trash, even if he committed sins—
His life and death could only be decided by the Dai family.
By him.
By Dai Weisi.
Never by a woman of the Zhu clan!
To kill a prince in front of the Emperor—
this was a direct trampling of imperial authority.
Dai Tianfeng roared, lunging toward her in a blur of golden lightning.
But—
Someone else moved before him.
"Zhuyun, stop immediately!"
Zhu Chenfei—
the head of the Zhu clan, Zhu Zhuyun's father—
his face pale as death, rushed forward in a panic.
His eyes were filled with terror.
But he could not get close.
Sword Douluo and Bone Douluo didn't even lift a hand—
just the release of their aura made the entire council hall feel like the air had turned to solid iron.
The hundred-plus nobility inside felt as though their limbs were filled with molten lead.
Even moving a finger was a luxury.
That invisible pressure sank into their bones, crushing dignity, crushing will, crushing breath.
Zhu Chenfei felt all color drain from his face.
He wanted to rush over.
Wanted to push Zhu Zhuyun away.
Wanted to stop this catastrophe.
But his body refused to obey.
The pressure of two Titled Douluo pinned him like a mountain.
He could only watch helplessly as his daughter—
With her high heel on the Prince's throat—
pushed the entire Zhu family closer and closer to a bottomless abyss.
"Zhuyun!!"
Zhu Chenfei squeezed out a hoarse wail.
"Are you insane?! Do you know what you're doing?!"
"We cannot… we CANNOT bear the cost of killing the Third Prince!!"
His eyes were bloodshot.
His voice cracked.
He wasn't thinking of his daughter.
He was thinking of—
The Zhu Clan's annihilation.
He sobbed. He pleaded.
"Stop! Father begs you! Please—stop!"
Despair saturated every word.
But Zhu Zhuyun only paused for a heartbeat.
She didn't even turn around.
Her heel continued descending—
Slowly.
Methodically.
"Hoo… hoo…"
Dai Mubai gasped like a broken bellows.
His eyes rolled back from lack of oxygen.
His limbs—what remained of them—trembled in fear.
He could feel the final pressure crushing down on his throat.
Dai Tianfeng, Emperor of the Star Luo Empire—
Was now kneeling on one knee in front of his own throne.
A humiliating posture.
All his spirit power surged madly in his body, golden tiger stripes flickering beneath his skin.
The veins on his temples bulged, throbbing like they would burst.
But it was pointless.
A peak Spirit Douluo—
Was nothing in front of two Titled Douluo.
The golden tiles beneath his foot cracked like a spiderweb.
His voice was colder than death.
"Ning! Feng! Zhi!"
"You actually dare to interfere in the internal affairs of my Dai Family?!"
"Is your Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School declaring war on my Star Luo Empire?!"
The entire hall trembled from the force of his roar.
This was an Emperor's wrath.
A nation's ultimatum.
But Ning Fengzhi remained bowed, humble, silent.
Unmoving.
Unbothered.
As though none of this concerned him.
His disregard enraged Dai Tianfeng more than any insult could have.
His killing intent surged to the heavens.
He glared at Zhu Zhuyun, blood-red fury filling his eyes.
"Zhu Zhuyun!"
"I command you—IN THE NAME OF THE EMPEROR—"
"STOP!!"
But the only response he received—
Was a soft, mocking laugh.
"Stop?"
Zhu Zhuyun finally turned her head.
Her peach blossom eyes swept across the kneeling Emperor—
Cold.
Arrogant.
Utterly disdainful.
As if she were looking down at an ant.
"Heh~"
A soft chuckle.
And then—
She pressed down. Hard.
CRACK—!!!
The crisp, sickening sound of a throat shattering echoed through the imperial hall.
Dai Mubai—
Died instantly.
Dai Tianfeng's pupils shrank to pinpoints.
He saw—
with his own eyes—
his son's throat crushed beneath a woman's heel.
Zhu Zhuyun seemed not yet satisfied.
She lifted her heel slightly—
Then ground it viciously into the pulp that remained of Dai Mubai's neck.
Only after confirming her vengeance was complete did she withdraw her foot.
Crimson blood dripped down her slender heel—
splattering onto the tiles like blooming flowers of death.
Zhu Zhuyun straightened her back.
Closed her eyes.
And released a long, trembling breath—
as if savoring a decade's worth of repressed hatred dissolving into pure relief.
Inside Feng Ran Pavilion—
The Douluo watching the live broadcast breathed out collectively.
Satisfying.
Bloody.
Perfect.
Zhu Zhuqing had been silent the entire time—
But her clenched fists trembled violently.
Her nails pierced her palms.
She didn't even notice.
And then—
Ning Fengzhi's calm voice echoed from the light screen.
"Dai Tianfeng…"
______________
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