Douluo Dalu: Transforming Soul Rings into Soul Veins

"Tang Hao's whereabouts?" Qian Daoliu's expression froze momentarily.

In truth, he hadn't pursued Tang Hao with full intensity after the incident years ago. Part of him had pitied the man—after all, Tang Hao wasn't the primary culprit behind his son's death. And there was his complicated history with Tang Chen...

Though lifelong rivals, they shared a warrior's mutual respect. What would Tang Chen think if he knew Qian Daoliu had hunted down his grandson? The Clear Sky Clan had already retreated from the world without suffering casualties. As long as Tang Hao remained in exile, Tang Chen couldn't rightfully seek vengeance.

Where was that old bastard anyway? Disappeared for so long—could he be undergoing divine trials? Qian Daoliu sighed inwardly. Sorry old friend. But my position leaves me no choice. Tang Hao's assault on the Pope was undeniable treason. Blood called for blood—his son's life demanded repayment.

"Should it indeed be him," Qian Daoliu said after composing himself, "I'll handle this personally. Chrysanthemum and Ghost, you'll accompany me. We can't risk a cornered Tang Hao harming civilians."

Qian Renxue's eyes lit up. With her grandfather taking action, that bastard's fate was sealed! She'd see every brick of his hideout reduced to dust!

"Grandfather, we should depart immediately! What if he flees?"

Qian Daoliu nodded, observing his granddaughter's fervor. Indeed, at this stage of his life, only Qian Renxue could stir such emotions within him. Tang Chen and... that woman belonged to the past. As the Angel God's High Priest, his sole concern now was ensuring his heir's succession.

"Chrysanthemum Douluo, Ghost Douluo—you'll accompany me to Notting City."

Two voices answered simultaneously as the mentioned figures materialized beside them. Lin Feng arched an eyebrow—weren't these two technically under the Pope's jurisdiction now? How could Qian Daoliu command them so freely?

Before he could ponder further, Bibi Dong's melodic voice echoed through the hall. The Pope made her entrance, scepter in hand, each click of her heels commanding attention.

"So much for 'no interference between the Pope's Hall and Douluo Hall,'" she remarked with a wry smile. "Yet you constantly appropriate my subordinates. At this rate, I'll have no Titled Douluo left—even Ling Yuan is yours now."

She sighed theatrically. "But given the circumstances, I'll permit this expedition. In exchange, should emergencies arise during your absence, I expect temporary authority to mobilize the Worshipers."

"Granted," Qian Daoliu conceded. "But only until our return. The Golden Crocodile will oversee Douluo Hall in my stead."

"Then I await your triumphant news."

Qian Renxue nodded approvingly at Bibi Dong's cooperation. Perhaps, despite their strained relationship, even the Pope took satisfaction in seeing her father's killer brought to justice.

Or so she thought.

In truth, Bibi Dong viewed this development as divine intervention. Only she and Qian Daoliu knew the full truth of that night. While rumors claimed Tang Hao's assault led to Qian Xunji's demise, who could guarantee Tang Hao hadn't realized the former Pope might have survived? His reappearance risked unearthing buried secrets. Eliminating this variable was imperative.

"No trouble at all!" Chrysanthemum Douluo chuckled, patting Lin Feng's shoulder with unusual familiarity. "Quite the accomplished young man, aren't you? What does the High Priest think of—"

Qian Daoliu frowned. "Think of what?"

Chrysanthemum Douluo blinked. "About Xiao Feng and... them?"

Qian Renxue moved with serpentine speed, clamping a hand over the man's mouth. But Bibi Dong merely laughed. "Youthful passions are natural. By soul master maturation standards, they're practically adults."

Now thoroughly perplexed, Qian Daoliu channeled soul power through his eyes for enhanced perception as he studied the trio.

What.

The.

Actual.

Fuck?!

While preoccupied with Tang Hao, he'd neglected to notice... this?! Months! Just months apart, and they'd...?!

"Xiao Feng!" The temperature in the hall plummeted. "A few more years and you'd have given me great-grandchildren, wouldn't you?!"

Qian Renxue and Ling Yuan feigned embarrassment, subtly moving to flank Lin Feng in silent solidarity against the coming storm. The blatant defiance made Qian Daoliu's vision swim with rage.

Fine! They thought him some indulgent pushover, did they? Time to correct that misconception!

"Return the whale glue," he growled. "All of it. And Lin Feng—regardless of what these two want, you will exercise restraint. Am I understood?"

Understood? Oh, I understand perfectly. Lin Feng barely suppressed a shudder at recent memories. Without personal experience, the old man could never comprehend these women's... enthusiasm. Thank the heavens for his extraordinary constitution.

"Your wisdom guides me, Grandfather."

"Hmph." Qian Daoliu's glare shifted to his granddaughter and Ling Yuan, their poorly-acted bashfulness only fueling his exasperation. "Enough theatrics. I'm not angry—just concerned for your cultivation progress. Don't let... distractions hinder your growth."

Qian Renxue peeked through her fingers, all traces of remorse vanishing instantly. "This granddaughter shall heed your advice~"

Like hell she would. As the undisputed primary wife, Qian Renxue claimed four nights weekly. Now that she'd tasted paradise, abstinence was unthinkable. At least Ling Yuan showed restraint—her tenderness stood in stark contrast to Qian Renxue's... appetites.