Leaning against the seat in the carriage, many thoughts swirled inside Qian Renxue's head like a storm restrained beneath calm waters.
'The time of our protagonist, Tang San's birth is coming closer.'
Her fingers tapped lightly against the window frame, an unconscious rhythm betraying her racing thoughts.
'Ah Yin's identity… discovered almost as if by fate. But fate is rarely so coincidental. Was it truly chance, or are the strings being pulled by some hand unseen? And now, Father is moving the full weight of Spirit Hall to hunt her down.'
The faint smile on her lips never reached her eyes.
'A hundred-thousand-year soul beast… Qian Xunji, my father dares not reveal the reason for pusrsuing Tang Hao and his lover. No one would believe that the young master of Clear Sky Clan would fall in love with a soul beast.'
' If word leaks, the empires and sects will throw their armies into the slaughter without hesitation. A single soul bone of that level could shift the balance of power, and history has shown—men are willing to drown the world in blood for far less. Over ten-thousand-year bones, kingdoms once burned. Over a hundred-thousand? Chaos would reign.'
Her eyes narrowed, purple irises glinting in the light.
'But Spirit Hall cannot afford chaos, at this time. We've only just restructured and smothered internal dissent. To expose ourselves in a scramble with the continent would be folly. '
She tilted her head back against the cushion, a soft laugh escaping her.
'Tang Hao and Ah Yin will soon go into hiding .How poetic—the mighty Clear Sky Douluo, forced into obscurity by love.'
Her hand rose to the carriage's curtain, pulling it aside. Sunlight spilled across her face, warm yet blinding.
'Story folding neatly into the lines I remember. But is it truly coincidence, or a script laid out long before I was reborn? Tang Hao, Ah Yin, Tang San… are they merely puppets on someone's grand scheme? '
Her smile widened, soft yet cold. Through the window, the noonday sun burned brilliantly above the city, glaring and oppressive. She stared at it until her eyes stung.
The carriage wheels rumbled onward, carrying her toward Spirit City.
(Author note: I will get back to Asura God, too bad he cannot see anything on the continent now.
Qian Renxue already suspects the Gods, but cannot particularly pin point the God, that is meddling.
Shura God = Asura God I will update chapter 2 later)
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Reaching the Elder's Hall, Qian Renxue's steps slowed as she passed through the towering archways. The marble walls gleamed faintly in the soft golden light, each carved angel and scripture pressing down on her with the weight of centuries.
Her mind, however, was far from still.
'There is still no viable information on Ren Xuan…' Her lips pressed into a thin line as she walked. She had given this name to members of the Hermit Order, but none could find any information.
'Searching for an Ultimate Douluo who vanished into history is like chasing shadows. Even with Spirit Hall's reach, the world is vast and memories fade. But the Order will not stop. Slowly, carefully, they will comb through connections, archives, whispers in forgotten towns. Somewhere, the name "Ren Xuan" must have left an imprint.'
Her eyes darkened.
'I will not allow myself to be blindsided. An old monster emerging from seclusion is already dangerous enough… but if he's a Reincarnator, one who knows more than he should, then he could threaten everything. That cannot be allowed.'
She exhaled softly, steadying her mind as her hand touched the cold handle of the main hall door. The heavy door opened with a low groan, revealing the heart of the Elder's Hall—now has become Qian Daoliu's private office.
The air inside was solemn, sanctified by the towering statue of the Angel Goddess that dominated the chamber. Its outstretched wings cast long shadows that seemed to embrace the entire hall.
Behind the desk, Qian Daoliu looked up from a thick bundle of files. His eyes softened faintly when he saw his granddaughter.
Qian Renxue, without a word, moved to the base of the statue and sat gracefully, her figure outlined by the radiant glow pouring down from above.
For the briefest heartbeat, Qian Daoliu's breath caught. With the divine light spilling over her delicate features, the illusion was almost complete—Qian Renxue was the Angel God descended, aloof and eternal.
His heart stirred with reverence and awe before he forcefully shook his head, suppressing the dangerous thought.
"Renxue…" he muttered under his breath, turning back to his papers with disciplined effort.
But Qian Renxue had noticed. She always noticed. Her eyes remained closed, her senses sharp as blades. She could feel his gaze lingering, heavy with expectation.
When Qian Daoliu concentrated in his work again, she raised her head slightly, her gaze drifting up toward the statue above her. The Angel's serene sculpted face reflected in her purple irises.
'This is the best place for cultivation', she thought.
Her fingers curled slightly on her lap. Memories flickered in her mind recalling what happened that day.