Douluo Dalu 3 - Qiang Ming's Journey

Chapter 76: Chapter 73 – Going Out for a Stroll



The night passed peacefully.

Qiang Ming awoke early, as usual, and after a brief round of cultivation, treated himself to a long, steaming bath. The water was filled with fragrant oils—lavender and cedar—and did wonders for the fatigue of his recent seclusion and the train ride. Today, he had no obligations. No practice, no missions, no sparring.

A free day.

Clad in a crisp set of clothes—dark slacks, an open-buttoned formal shirt with the Clear Flow clan's blue hammer stitched faintly along the collar, and his ever-present pin holding back his mane of gold-purple hair—he stepped out into Star Luo City.

He was just another tourist. For now.

The city was dazzling, equal parts imperial opulence and lived-in warmth. Towering pagodas stood alongside crowded market streets. Vendors shouted their specials, selling everything from grilled sea snake skewers to lotus-root candy, while children ran laughing through the crowds. Brass-carved signs and crimson banners fluttered in the breeze. Music played in distant alleys. The soul cars buzzed along ancient cobbled roads.

Qiang Ming indulged in it all.

He sampled the food—too much of it, honestly—won a handful of street games using sleight of hand and gentle charm, and spent hours watching puppet shows and traditional spirit dances. His heart, once honed into a steel blade during his training, felt strangely light. It wasn't often he could simply exist.

Of course, such a presence didn't go unnoticed.

Even dressed down, Qiang Ming was hard to miss. His golden-purple eyes, tall physique, and absurdly sculpted frame drew attention wherever he went. A few of the darker types—pickpockets, small-time thugs—thought he looked like easy prey. All it took was a single glance from him, his eyes narrowing with that detached, apex predator weight, and they vanished.

Then, the day shifted.

While strolling through a quieter district known for its smithing workshops, Qiang Ming felt a presence. Familiar. Steady. Confident.

He turned toward the sound of rhythmic metallic taps—an assay hammer striking ore.

There, in the middle of a modest blacksmithing shop, stood a golden-haired woman, clad in a fitted white tunic, black pants, and soot-streaked gloves. Her movements were precise as she examined a slab of refined darksteel. Her hair, bound in a high ponytail, shimmered in the sun like strands of flame.

Her green eyes were sharp. Focused.

Qiang Ming's lips quirked up. He walked quietly until he was just behind her. Then, leaning forward, his breath warm near her ear, he whispered:

"Small world, eh?"

She jumped.

The assay hammer almost flew out of her hand, but she caught it with a practiced motion. Spinning around, her brows furrowed as she looked up—and froze.

"You are...?"

"I'm hurt, teacher," Qiang Ming said, placing a hand over his chest, feigning offense. "You don't remember little old me?"

Her eyes swept over him—broad shoulders, tall frame, golden-purple hair like a lion's mane, and that smirk. Then, she saw the blue hammer insignia stitched faintly over his chest. Her jaw slackened.

"Little Ming?!"

"In the flesh," he replied with a mock bow. "You look well, Teacher Su."

"You… look… not so little anymore," Su Yang said slowly, still processing. Then she raised an eyebrow, pointing at his head. "What's with the hair? Someone prank you?"

"Second Martial Soul awakened," Qiang Ming said casually, puffing his chest a little. "I got taller, stronger, and more lion-esque. I am now… majestic."

Su Yang blinked.

"You're not even old enough to drink."

"And yet, here I am," he shot back. "Anyway—what are you doing here? I thought you were based in the Douluo Continent?"

"I was. Temporary assignment. I'm originally from Star Luo," she replied. "The work I had to do in Douluo ended. So I came back home. Your father never told you?"

"Not once," Qiang Ming muttered, vaguely offended. Then, flashing another grin, "Well then, how about a reunion tour? Show me the city, hometown girl."

She hesitated.

Then shrugged.

"I'm on vacation anyway. Follow me, Little Ming."

And so began their unscheduled adventure.

Su Yang led him through the hidden arteries of Star Luo City—alleyways known only to locals, rooftops with hidden tea pavilions, underground forge-arenas, and even a floating market accessible only by jumping between spirit-lit stepping stones over a river.

They drank soul fruit wine from cracked wooden cups and shared grilled meat on skewers. They laughed, bickered, reminisced. Qiang Ming shared some of his Shrek memories—he left out the life-threatening ones—and Su Yang shared the few things she could about her time away.

The hours blurred.

Eventually, as the stars blinked into the sky and the lanterns lit the roads, both were undeniably drunk. Laughing too loudly. Walking too crookedly. Faces flushed.

When they arrived back at the Grand Star Luo Hotel, Qiang Ming fumbled with his keycard for several long moments before managing to open the door. He held it open like a gentleman.

"After you, Lady Su."

She wobbled in, giggling. "Such manners."

The door clicked shut behind them.

Both collapsed onto the bed.

Neither knew how it happened exactly, only that one drink turned into three, and three turned into the kind of nostalgia-fueled bonding that made the heart vulnerable. Within minutes, both were snoring—fully clothed, draped over the sheets like the drunken fools they were.

And yet, neither realized the firestorm they had just ignited.


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