The moment Dai Chengfeng sensed the oppressive aura, his soul power instinctively circulated. A faint golden halo shimmered around him, effortlessly diffusing the mountainous pressure. His steps never faltered; instead, he tightened his grip on Qian Renxue's hand and strode straight toward the courtyard's depths.
Qian Renxue glanced at him in surprise. Seeing his calm expression, she relaxed slightly—but her anxiety remained.
They passed through the courtyard to an elegant pavilion. Its doors stood open, revealing antique furnishings within. At its center, Qian Daoliu sat upright on a zitan wood chair, silver hair immaculate, face serene as still water—unreadable. He held a teacup, leisurely skimming foam from its surface, as if unaware of their arrival.
But Dai Chengfeng knew better. The crushing pressure locking onto him emanated precisely from this Level 99 Limit Douluo—the Spirit Hall's Grand Worship, Angel God's sentinel.
"Grandfather." Qian Renxue released Dai Chengfeng's hand, stepping briskly into the pavilion. She stood before Qian Daoliu, head bowed.
Only then did Qian Daoliu lift his eyes. His gaze lingered on her first—a flicker of unreadable complexity in those all-seeing eyes—before shifting to Dai Chengfeng at the doorway. "You're back."
His tone was flat, emotionless—yet the pressure on Dai Chengfeng intensified threefold.
Dai Chengfeng entered, bowing respectfully without subservience. "Junior Dai Chengfeng greets the Grand Worship."
"Hmph." Qian Daoliu set down his cup—the clink piercing the silence. He didn't bid Dai Chengfeng rise, scrutinizing him like a blade. "Four days."
Two words—loaded with unspoken accusations.
Qian Renxue's heart clenched. "Grandfather, it was my—"
"Xue'er," Qian Daoliu cut in, voice steady yet absolute, "return to your quarters."
"Grandfather!" She frowned, about to protest.
"Go." His tone deepened.
She bit her lip, casting a worried glance at Dai Chengfeng. He offered a reassuring smile, nodding subtly.
After hesitation, Qian Renxue left—but lingered at the corridor's bend, cloaking her presence, ears straining. She knew Grandfather wouldn't truly harm Dai Chengfeng… yet unease gnawed at her.
Once her figure vanished, the pavilion's air thickened further.
Qian Daoliu finally spoke again, eyes like lightning. "Do you know how many sought Xue'er these four days? How many matters piled up? She missed the Worships' council—her duty as heir!"
Dai Chengfeng straightened, meeting Qian Daoliu's gaze evenly. "I understand your reprimand, Grand Worship. But Xue'er isn't negligent. She arranged urgent affairs before leaving. As for the council—given her usual diligence, the elders will surely forgive one absence."
"Forgive?" Qian Daoliu's fingers tapped the armrest—tap, tap, tap. "You think for her thoroughly. But do you know how many rumors swirl in Spirit City about our heir's disappearance?"
Dai Chengfeng remained unmoved. "Rumors die with wisdom. As heir, Xue'er owes no one explanations. Besides… some truths are overdue for revelation."
Qian Daoliu's eyes narrowed. "Oh? What truth?"
Dai Chengfeng inhaled deeply, solemn. "Xue'er and I share mutual affection. We wish to wed and spend our lives together. This journey was for that purpose. I ask for your blessing, Grand Worship."
Silence crashed down. Qian Daoliu studied him—piercing, dissecting. Minutes stretched; pressure suffocated the guards until sweat soaked their robes.
In the corridor, Qian Renxue's heart hammered against her ribs. She clutched her sleeves, breath held.
After an age, Qian Daoliu leaned back, breaking the tension. "Dai Chengfeng. Third Prince of Star Luo. Fifteen years old. Soul power…" He paused, recalling. "Level 53, if intelligence is correct. Your talent rivals Xue'er's prime. But…"
His tone turned glacial. "Star Luo's royal house and the Spirit Hall have always held… delicate relations. Your father, Dai Tianfeng—ambitious, strategic—has restricted our branches in Star Luo relentlessly. Your elder brothers, Dai Weisi and Dai Mubai, are no fools. The throne's succession brews chaos. Now you seek our heir's hand? How can I trust this isn't political maneuvering? Star Luo's scheming?"
The question laid bare their core conflict.
Yet Dai Chengfeng didn't flinch. He stepped forward, gaze unwavering. "You speak the truth. Empires and soul master sects clash—it's inevitable. My father has his strategies; my brothers, their plots. That's imperial politics."
"But," he declared, "I stand here as Dai Chengfeng—not Star Luo's prince—to ask for Qian Renxue's hand. My love for Xue'er transcends power or profit. It began in Star Luo, hardened through life-and-death trials in Spirit City. If you fear political entanglement, I swear: our bond won't become a pawn. Should Star Luo and the Spirit Hall clash, I am first Xue'er's husband—and only second, a Star Luo prince!"
His voice rang clear, resolute.
A flicker crossed Qian Daoliu's eyes—but his face stayed stone. "Oaths are easy; fate is fickle. Duty chains you. Today you speak boldly—but what when your emperor commands? When Star Luo demands? Will you drag Xue'er into royal chaos? Or force her to betray the Spirit Hall?"
"I'll never let Xue'er choose between loyalties," Dai Chengfeng vowed instantly. "Our future is ours alone. Star Luo's throne holds no interest for me. If needed, I'll cast off this princely title without regret."
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