Douluo: My Spirit is Fallen Angel

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Without hesitation, Bibi Dong turned and left the Spirit Hall branch. She was no cripple—she had hands and feet, and she had once been both a saintess and the Pope. Did they really think she couldn't earn the fare to Soto City on her own? 

The staff watched her leave, their faces filled with confusion. Why had they set such an outrageous price? Commoners wouldn't come, only wealthy merchants and nobles. 

Capturing a Grand Soul Master earned fifty gold soul coins, requiring only fifty hours of kneeling before the angel statue. That was essentially one gold soul coin per hour—a single coin was enough to sustain a small family for months. 

These commoners would willingly kneel before nobles who exploited them, so why did they refuse to do the same for the Spirit Hall? 

After leaving the Spirit Hall branch, Bibi Dong returned to the same pawnshop. 

After a brief wait, she asked, "Boss, how much can I get for these clothes?" 

The pawnshop owner was momentarily surprised to see her return but soon chuckled. "At most, I can give you twenty gold soul coins for them." 

"Twenty gold soul coins? Boss, that's far too little." Bibi Dong frowned. Twenty coins wouldn't last long—staying in a high-end hotel for a few days would drain it completely. But she found the cheap inns filthy, noisy, and chaotic. She was worried she wouldn't rest well and wouldn't be in her best state when she met Yu Xiaogang. 

"Your clothes are already damaged and covered in dust. Twenty gold soul coins is a fair price," the pawnshop owner said, acting as if he had her best interests in mind. 

"Fine." Bibi Dong sighed. She would have to be frugal. She couldn't afford lavish meals, but ordinary meat and fish should be acceptable. 

When she stepped out of the pawnshop, her once-luxurious gown had been replaced by simple cloth garments, and she now carried a small money pouch. 

"Xiaogang, wait for me." 

Clutching her money pouch tightly, Bibi Dong planned to hire a carriage and head straight for Soto City—she couldn't afford any delays. 

But as fate would have it, the very thing she feared happened. 

A young soul master walking past the pawnshop caught sight of Bibi Dong. She was dressed plainly, yet held a money pouch in her hand. Without hesitation, he reached out and snatched it. 

Pawnshop Owner: You little brat, how dare you steal my money! 

Bibi Dong stared at her now-empty hands, then at the young man who had just opened her pouch, his eyes gleaming with greed. She shouted angrily, lunging to take it back. 

"Who are you? Why are you stealing from me?!" 

"Who am I? I am a noble soul master! Taking money from a filthy commoner like you is already showing you mercy!" The young soul master sneered and shoved Bibi Dong to the ground. 

A bright white light flashed at his feet as his soul ring appeared, his face full of arrogance. 

The surrounding commoners, busy tending their stalls, merely shook their heads. They pitied Bibi Dong, but none dared to interfere—the young man possessed a soul ring, after all. 

Soul masters were celestial beings—figures they could only look up to. It was said that every soul master possessed extraordinary strength, and Titled Douluo had the power to destroy cities. To these ordinary people, whatever a soul master did was justified. 

Ever since the soul master stipends had stopped, those free soul masters with no income—too accustomed to spending lavishly and unwilling to do real work—had begun abusing their strength. It was common for them to eat at street stalls without paying or, worse, rob small vendors to fund extravagant meals at high-end restaurants. 

This was why merchants and pawnbrokers kept their valuables hidden—fearful of soul masters. But Bibi Dong had foolishly held her money pouch in plain sight, and now, she had run into the worst kind of soul master. Who could she blame but herself? 

Simply put, powerless commoners now lived worse than dogs. Nobles could trample them as they pleased, and soul masters could do the same. 

"Give it back! Give me my money back!" 

Bibi Dong screamed and threw herself at the young soul master, desperate to retrieve her stolen pouch. But how could a middle-aged woman possibly overpower a young man, let alone one with soul power? 

The young man glanced at her, raised an eyebrow, and without hesitation, slapped her hard across the face. 

"You lowly commoner dare defy a great soul master?" he scoffed. 

Smack! 

A crisp, resounding slap echoed through the street. Blood trickled from Bibi Dong's lips as she collapsed onto the ground. Her long hair draped over her face, but beneath the strands, her wide, disbelieving eyes burned with shock and fury. 

She had been slapped. 

She—Bibi Dong, former saintess and Pope of the Spirit Hall—had been slapped by a mere soul master, a lowly insect in her eyes. 

"Hmm… You've got quite the figure," the young soul master remarked, his gaze sweeping over her fallen form. 

Her body, now fully exposed to his scrutiny, was still alluring—her long, shapely legs and elegant curves remained exceptional, even if no longer at their peak. Though faint lines had begun to appear on her face, she was still undeniably beautiful. 

A flicker of lust ignited in his eyes.

The young soul master's hands moved instinctively toward Bibi Dong's body, his fingers itching to feel the curves before him. His mouth hung open, saliva threatening to drip as he reached for her thigh with his other hand, intending to both savor the sensation and carry her off to a secluded spot. 

He was just a soul master—not particularly powerful—so he couldn't act too recklessly. If he went too far and disrupted the city's order, the Lord of Nuoding City would not let him off easily. 

Just as his fingers were about to make contact, an overwhelming pressure suddenly descended upon him. A chilling killing intent enveloped him, freezing him in place. But in the next instant, the terrifying aura vanished as quickly as it had appeared. 

"P-Please spare me! Have mercy, senior! I won't do it again!" 

Terrified, the young soul master dropped to his knees, begging for his life. He assumed a high-ranking soul master within the city had intervened to warn him against his behavior. Without hesitation, he scrambled to his feet and fled. 

From the shadows, two figures—a man and a woman, both with golden hair and striking sky-blue eyes—watched Bibi Dong with expressions of disdain and disgust. 

The golden-haired man sneered. "Bibi Dong… What a worthless piece of trash. Without our Spirit Hall, she's nothing. I don't understand why the clan leader insists on monitoring her. Why not just kill her and reclaim her soul bones?" 

The golden-haired woman, though equally repulsed, held back her emotions. "She is, after all, the mother of both the young master and His Holiness, the Pope. Let her rot on her own. From Pope to a mere commoner—I doubt she'll last long. When she finally breaks, we can reclaim the soul bones then." 

These two were members of the Angel Clan, sent personally by Qian Daoliu to watch over Bibi Dong. Only those of their bloodline could be trusted with such a task. 

Aside from the clan's direct descendants, any member of the Angel Clan who knew what Bibi Dong had done would be utterly disgusted by her. Even if they had the patience of a saint, they would still find her repulsive. That was why they didn't care that a mere soul master had slapped her. In fact, they had even felt the urge to help him. But when it came to her personal safety and dignity, they had no choice but to intervene. 

After being robbed twice in one day, Bibi Dong was left penniless. She had no choice but to find work to survive—but her path to earning a living was anything but smooth. 

Washing dishes? The female boss complained she was too slow. 

Sweeping floors? The same boss claimed she didn't clean thoroughly enough. 

Selling goods on the street? Her voice wasn't loud enough to attract customers. 

She was like a pampered young lady from a noble family—unable to do even the simplest tasks. Every day, she was either scolded or beaten. And in truth, she had been a pampered lady, raised in luxury within the Spirit Hall. 

Whenever she worked for a male employer, things only got worse. The boss's wife would treat her with outright hostility, afraid she was a seductive vixen trying to steal her husband. 

Throughout it all, the two members of the Angel Clan watched with cold indifference. However, they frequently had to step in—not to help her, but to deal with men who harbored ill intentions toward her. 

In the end, Bibi Dong failed at almost every labor job she tried. She lacked the strength for hard labor, and now that she was an ordinary woman, she was no longer qualified for prestigious work. Eventually, no one was willing to hire her. 

She was reduced to drinking plain porridge and foraging for wild vegetables to sell just to survive. 

Her once-proud dignity had been shattered beyond repair. Humiliation, ridicule, and scorn followed her everywhere. Even the lowest of commoners, those whose lives were worse than dogs, still lived with more dignity than she did. 

Her once-brilliant, captivating violet eyes had lost their luster. She had been beaten, scolded, and reduced to tears more times than she could count. Now, her gaze resembled that of a weary, middle-aged woman—lifeless and empty. 

The only thing keeping her alive was a single desire. 

Love. 

She had to see Yu Xiaogang again. 

Yet no one in the Spirit Hall knew of Bibi Dong's suffering. 

Because the two Angel Clan members watching her had never intended to report back. 

(End of Chapter)