The scenes in the mory shifted, moving from the oppressive Thunder Dragon Valley to the grand and solemn Spirit Hall City. Young Yu Xiaogang, with a mixture of despair, resentnt, and a glimr of hope for the new environnt in his heart, clutched a handwritten letter from his father, Yu Yuanzhen, and stepped into Spirit Hall.
Pope Qian Xunji, upon reading the letter in the papal palace, unexpectedly let a slight trace of joy appear on his solemn face. At that ti, due to the sudden ergence of Tang Chen, the three upper sects gained trendous prestige. After unification, their influence rivaled even the Spirit Hall's. The arrival of Yu Xiaogang, son of Thunder Douluo, was, even if he was considered useless, a subtle political signal for Qian Xunji. For Spirit Hall, which always sought to split and balance the three upper sects, it offered a perfect opportunity.
Therefore, Qian Xunji generously granted Yu Xiaogang a position as an assistant professor of theory at the Spirit Hall Advanced Soul Master Academy. The position was not high, but it gave Yu Xiaogang respect and, more critically, free access to the first two floors of Spirit Hall's imnse library. For soone fervently searching for a way to resolve his martial soul's flaws, this was undoubtedly a treasure trove.
Over the next few days, Yu Xiaogang spent nearly all his ti buried in the first and second floors of the library, devouring vast quantities of ancient docunts, soul master records, and martial soul research—anything that might hold a ray of hope. At the sa ti, he began to actively seek out different perspectives, swallowing his pride to engage in communication with teachers specializing in theory at the Academy. In order to win the attention and respect of these teachers, he did not hesitate to share the advanced theoretical knowledge he'd learned within the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan's library.
Even if these theories were sotis superficial or fragnted, they were still novel enough to provide a fresh perspective for most Spirit Hall instructors. Gradually, the na "Yu Xiaogang" started to spread in Spirit Hall's theorist circles. Despite his weak soul power, he beca known as a "theory genius," lauded as soone who "possessed deep knowledge, independent insight, and often made astonishing remarks." The teachers engaged him in deep discussions and paid careful attention to his views on certain matters.
Caught up in the vanity of being acknowledged and respected, Yu Xiaogang almost lost sight of his original purpose for coming. Yet even the best streaks of fortune must co to an end. As the "practical knowledge" gleaned from his family resources gradually dried up, his true shortcomings—such as a lack of real innovation and genuine deep investigation—beca painfully obvious. The teachers who had once been "impressed" slowly realized that this supposed "theory genius" was mostly repeating and recombining existing material, rarely offering genuinely groundbreaking insights.
Most crucially for Yu Xiaogang himself, he still hadn't discovered anything about the problem of his own martial soul.
"Bang!"
With a dull thud, Yu Xiaogang slamd the stack of books in front of him to the floor. He pressed both hands onto the cold table; the force turned his knuckles white, his eyes bloodshot, and his face dark and anxious.
"Damn it... If I don't find it soon… those old n will realize I'm an empty shell!" he muttered in a hoarse voice. "Spirit Hall… Those bastards are so strict at blocking knowledge—there are still three upper floors… and I have absolutely no way to get in!"
He straightened his back and began to pace restlessly around the empty library, his eyes darting about anxiously.
"I have to think of a way… I must think of a way… I have to get into those upper three floors…" Yu Xiaogang muttered again as he pondered, a sickly obsession appearing on his face.
Watching this mory—Yu Xiaogang, irritable, brooding, and calculating—Bibi Dong, whose consciousness was inside the vision, felt a chill run from the depths of her heart to the top of her head. Was this the "Grandmaster" she rembered, the one who supposedly cared only for knowledge with no interest in fa or fortune?
Hearing Yu Xiaogang's muttered desire to "find a way to enter the upper three floors," Bibi Dong's heart sank, a dread suspicion looming in her mind. Was this… that "first eting" after all…?
As if to confirm the doubt she least wanted to face, the mory scene changed at a perfectly tid mont.
The old, heavy door of the library quietly opened, and in stepped a girl in a floor-length lilac-pink dress. Her face was breathtakingly beautiful, her noble aura tinged with the bright liveliness and innocence of youth. This was none other than the young Bibi Dong, the Holy Maiden of Spirit Hall.
Bibi Dong had co to the library naturally, searching for an answer to the ultimate question that had long troubled her cultivation with twin martial souls. A rare talent, she was not only advancing rapidly in soul cultivation, but also demonstrating deep understanding in the study of martial soul theory—widely recognized as the most promising genius in Spirit Hall to resolve the conflict of dual martial souls.
But she was unaware that in a quiet corner of the library, a pair of predatory eyes was watching her intently. Yu Xiaogang regarded the beautiful girl moving between the bookshelves; at first, his gaze showed faint surprise, but this quickly turned into a cold, calculating light.
As the pope's top disciple, the Holy Maiden, and a future ruler, she had the privilege to access the library's deepest secrets.
"Opportunity..."
What followed almost exactly matched Bibi Dong's own nostalgic mory of their "romantic" first encounter, but now, from an outsider's vantage point, a disturbing implication erged.
Yu Xiaogang straightened his clothes, put on the reserved aura of a scholar, and approached her with a polite smile. He pretended to want to consult a rare classic that she happened to be holding, using this as a pretext to naturally strike up conversation.
The pure-hearted young Holy Maiden felt a bit apologetic to have "disturbed" another's reading, but Yu Xiaogang skillfully dispelled the awkwardness with a self-deprecating joke, unobtrusively evoking sympathy.
"So... are you the novel 'theory genius' the teachers have been discussing lately?"
Upon learning his identity, genuine surprise appeared in the Holy Maiden's beautiful eyes. Even as just an assistant, receiving such praise from Spirit Hall's theorists was proof enough of his exceptional ability.
Yu Xiaogang gave a faint, humble smile. Despite this, his bright gaze showed a confidence unwavering in any adversity.
"Your Highness is too kind. You, so young, have accomplished surprising feats in martial soul theory. You are truly the genius."
"With my shallow knowledge, how could I dare call myself a genius?"
His eyes widened with sincerity, seeming to admit his own inadequacy. For Bibi Dong, accustod to empty flattery and arrogance, his confident humility in adversity made the deepest impression.
Among her peers, she had never t such a "special" man before—one with not just knowledge, but charm and compelling "stories" that fed her curiosity.
The rest of their conversation unfolded just as Bibi Dong had rembered. They delved from twin martial soul compatibility to the potential for martial soul mutations, then onto systematic analysis of soul master cultivation. Topic after topic, their thoughts aligned more and more, and the young Holy Maiden felt a thrill and joy she'd never known.
As dusk fell and the lights in the library dimd, the pair suddenly realized how much ti had passed.
"It was truly enriching talking with you, Master Yu," the Holy Maiden said with a smile, handing him an invitation. "Would you be free this ti tomorrow to continue our discussion?"
Yu Xiaogang bowed slightly with perfect poise.
"It is my honor to converse with Your Highness. I will be here at this ti tomorrow, awaiting you."
Watching the joyful Holy Maiden leave, and seeing her lilac-pink silhouette fade beyond the palace gates, the gentle smile on Yu Xiaogang's face vanished instantly, like a mask falling away.
He slowly turned, faced away from the palace gates, and looked deeply toward the library's innermost, symbolized by the authority-laden staircase. A cold smile appeared on his lips, and he muttered in a self-righteous, venomous tone only he could hear:
"Qian Xunji… This isn't my fault. If you're going to bla anyone, bla yourselves. If not for the deep-seated bias and stinginess of your Spirit Hall, refusing access to the upper three floors of the library… would I be forced to such desperate asures?"
"Ultimately... it's all your Spirit Hall's fault I ended up like this."
With that, he turned on his heel without hesitation and left the library, disappearing into the twilight. His shadow stretched impossibly long.
Boom—
Witnessing all this, Bibi Dong's consciousness shook violently, as if suffering a heavy blow. Her face turned pale and her lips trembled, unable to utter a sound.
So… this was why you approached ?
It wasn't shared ideals, mutual understanding, or even so vague notion of "fate"…
It was because I was the Holy Maiden, held power, and was useful to you!
All those beautiful first mories, the sparks of intellectual connection, everything that had seed so "special" and "understood"—from the very beginning, had it all been deliberate, calculated exploitation?
The "beautiful mories" that had once ward the cold, dark years of her life and seen her through countless hardships—now, exposed by the truth within her mory, tore apart to reveal the ugliness beneath.
Outside this sea of consciousness, the God of Rakshasa, watching the entire spectacle, wore a face brimming with self-satisfaction and mockery.
"Look, Bibi Dong! Now do you understand just how filthy the heart of that pure white moonlight, whom you idolized for decades, truly is?"
"Tch! If I'd known such trash could so easily shatter such absurd daydreams, I'd have acted long ago!"
But as the Rakshasa God laughed, her voice suddenly fell silent.
She sharply realized that Bibi Dong's consciousness in the cocoon of spiritual light had not collapsed as she expected, nor exploded in fury and despair. Instead, it grew ever deeper and calr, to a sowhat frightening degree—a deathly stillness, as if all feeling had been drained away, all thought frozen, leaving only pure darkness and void.
"This woman… I hope nothing goes wrong…"
The pride on the Rakshasa God's face faded. She frowned, an ominous feeling rising in her heart.
"It can't be that bad…"
She muttered uncertainly, but her unease swelled. Although suprely confident in the fantasy of the trial, a god too can find a mortal's heart beyond full control.
Suddenly struck by a thought, Rakshasa God narrowed her eyes. Her divine sense unconsciously pierced multiple spatial barriers, sending her attention toward a particular location on the Douluo Continent.
That direction… is the Slaughter City!
Not an instant later, a familiar, shocking aura began to disrupt the restrictions she had placed.
"Sothing is wrong!"
Staring toward the Divine Realm, she roared into the empty temple:
"Seven Elental Gods, what use are you?! How did that Asura bastard find a loophole!?"
…
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