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Yu Xiaogang.
The moment the maid whispered those three cursed words, Bibi Dong's killing intent—
which she had barely suppressed—
exploded again like a volcano being stoked with oil.
He actually dared to come?
He actually dared to step into Spirit City?
He actually dared… to come see me?!
Her nails dug deep into her palm, drawing blood.
Yet she felt no pain.
Every instinct urged her to rush out of the room—
—to summon her spider lances, razor-sharp and dripping poison—
—to tear that man to pieces, inch by inch, bone by bone—
—to shred him until he was nothing but bloody pulp and regret.
But—
Just as her foot lifted—
Lin Feng's calm, indifferent voice echoed in her mind.
"Death is nothing."
Yes.
Death is mercy.
Death is too easy for him.
Killing Yu Xiaogang outright?
That would be letting this hypocrite off lightly.
Bibi Dong forcibly pulled back her murderous aura.
In its place poured a deeper, icier malice.
She knew exactly what men like Yu Xiaogang—
those who worshipped their reputation above their own life—
feared most.
Not death.
But—
Shame.
Exposure.
Losing the illusion of dignity they clung to.
The corner of Bibi Dong's lips curled upward.
A smile—
Beautiful.
Sinful.
And terrifying.
She unclenched her fist.
Blood dripped onto the luxurious carpet.
Her voice returned to its regal, frosty calm.
"Understood."
Yu Xiaogang enters the Supreme Pontiff Palace
Guided by the maid, Yu Xiaogang limped toward the most sacred building in Spirit City.
His heart burned with humiliation, rage, and injured pride.
Earlier—
He had woken outside Feng Ran Pavilion, lying on the freezing stone floor like discarded trash.
The restaurant was closed.
The terrifying doorman who slapped him dozens of times was gone.
He was starving.
Bruised.
Spirit exhausted.
And so, with trembling legs, he dragged himself to the Supreme Pontiff Palace—
for "protection."
But every beating he endured today…
every humiliation…
He remembered all of it.
He carved it into his bones.
Savagely mauled by street guard dogs.
Slapped senseless by a random Titled Douluo at the Pavilion door.
And finally—
That arrogant boy Lin Feng actually dared to insult him.
Those shameless women even dared to strike him!
Unforgivable.
All of it—
ALL of it—
was Bibi Dong's fault.
Her inability.
Her negligence.
Her failure to maintain order.
He would make her pay.
He would make her punish every person who dared humiliate him today.
Only then could his shattered pride be patched back together.
Soon—
Yu Xiaogang entered the grand hall.
At the highest seat, on the golden throne dazzling enough to suppress heaven itself—
sat Bibi Dong.
Her beautiful legs crossed.
Her Supreme Pontiff robe flowing like celestial fire.
The gem atop her scepter glowing like a star.
Her amethyst eyes looked down, cold, distant, breathtaking, and untouchable.
The moment Yu Xiaogang saw her—
All the hatred in his eyes evaporated.
Instantly replaced by—
Pretended gentleness.
Fake heartbreak.
Manufactured devotion.
He angled his face just so, lowering his head slightly to display the "perfect melancholy profile."
His voice turned hoarse, magnetic, dripping with calculated emotion:
"Dong'er… after so long… have you been well?"
He thought this would move her.
Make her tremble.
Make her guilty.
Instead—
Bibi Dong's hand clenched the throne armrest sharply.
A vein pulsed on her white forehead.
Dong'er?
That name—
the name that kept her chained in self-loathing and heartbreak for the first half of her life—
He had the audacity to say it again?
A fresh wave of crimson anger hit her head.
She nearly crushed the scepter into Yu Xiaogang's skull.
But she held it in.
Barely.
No rush.
The performance had just begun.
She lifted her eyes lazily, cold as an executioner's blade.
"May I ask—
'Grandmaster'—
what business you have with my Spirit Hall?"
"And one more thing."
Her gaze was contempt itself.
"You will address me as—
Supreme Pontiff."
Yu Xiaogang's smile froze.
His body stiffened.
But he quickly rationalized it:
Ah…
women are reserved…
hard to get…
she must be pretending!
The more she pushed him away—
the more she must care for him!
He even put on a wounded expression, dramatically turning his back as if to silently accuse her of heartlessness.
"Yes… Supreme Pontiff."
He almost choked on the title.
Then—
Smoothly, with false casualness, he steered the conversation toward his true goal.
"Supreme Pontiff, I heard Spirit City has a place called 'Feng Ran Pavilion.'"
"A place where an extraordinary expert helps Spirit Masters evolve their Spirits… break their limits… transcend themselves?"
Yu Xiaogang waited.
He expected her to soften.
To take the bait.
To explain everything—
That she created Feng Ran Pavilion as a gift to him.
That she recruited Lin Feng for his sake.
That this was her way of apologizing.
He waited—
For the admiring tone…
the guilty explanation…
the romantic reconciliation.
Instead—
Bibi Dong's eyes widened slightly.
Realization dawned.
Then—
Deep, profound contempt flooded her amethyst gaze.
A cold, mocking smile tugged at her lips.
So that was it.
This man's nose was sharper than she expected.
Lin Feng had been in Spirit City less than half a month—
And this dog actually sniffed his way here so quickly?
But of course.
For a man whose life peaked at Spirit Power Rank 29—
The idea of evolving his spirit…
becoming stronger…
breaking his limits…
How could he resist?
Bibi Dong looked down at him like he was a clown.
"So?"
Her tone was flat, emotionless.
Yu Xiaogang froze again.
This wasn't right.
None of this was right.
She wasn't following his script.
She wasn't apologizing.
She wasn't hinting at surprises or affection.
Her voice said—
Who are you? Why should I care?
Yu Xiaogang's warped mind spun rapidly.
And then—
He "understood" again.
(Incorrectly, of course.)
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