As Qian Renxue walked through the corridors thoughts ran in her head,

‘The people of this world have never seen what it means for a protagonist to receive power-ups, the kind that shatter common sense.’

‘As expected, a normal mortal cannot find that the gods of the Divine Realm are interfering with the mortal world again.’

Her purple eyes narrowed, the sunlight reflecting like blades through the high windows as she lifted her gaze.

Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt when she reached her room.

Standing outside, arms clasped behind his back, was an unexpected figure.

Dugu Bo, the Poison Douluo.

His green robe shimmered faintly, the sharp fragrance of medicinal poison faintly seeping from him. His usually sardonic face was shadowed with unease, his brows knit tightly together.

From his expression alone, Qian Renxue knew, he was worried.

Seeing Dugu Bo, Qian Renxue had a hunch that something important was about to be revealed. The air around him carried urgency, as though he had wrestled with himself for a long time before coming here.

Before he could even open his mouth, she spoke with calm confidence.

“Senior Poison Douluo, why not sit inside and speak? I think you have a story to tell.”

Her voice was gentle, but the faint sharpness hidden beneath it made it clear she already knew this was no casual visit.

Dugu Bo nodded silently. The wrinkles around his eyes deepened with worry as he followed her inside.

---

They sat at the tea table in her chamber. Wu Meng moved swiftly, setting down fragrant tea before quietly withdrawing, leaving only the two of them.

The Poison Douluo took a long breath before speaking, his gravelly voice filled with hesitation.

“Young Master, forgive me. You are now passing through the immense loss of your father, and yet… I have come bringing my own burdens to you.”

Qian Renxue, who had just lifted her cup for a sip, paused mid-motion. Her brows twitched ever so slightly.

‘Loss of my father?’

Her thoughts turned

‘Did I truly seem to others as though I was grieving? No… I’ve been careful. I haven’t once shown weakness.’

But on the opposite side of the table, Dugu Bo was reading her silence in a completely different way.

‘Young Master truly has such a strong heart… even if her father has fallen, she bears the weight without shedding a single tear. Incredible… truly incredible.’

Qian Renxue’s purple eyes flickered as she touched upon the surface of his mind with her abilities. At once, the misunderstanding became clear to her.

She set her teacup down with deliberate calm.

“Senior, I think you misunderstand. My father is not dead. What has happened to him… is far more complicated than news outside suggest.”

Dugu Bo’s head jerked slightly at her words, shock flashing through his eyes.

Qian Renxue continued smoothly, her gaze sharp as a blade.

“As a Titled Douluo under Spirit Hall’s banner, you are eligible to know the truth. In fact, even if I do not tell you now, you will come to know it soon enough. But I suspect that the reason you’ve come here… is because your troubles are far heavier on your heart than mere curiosity about Spirit Hall’s secrets.”

Her words struck him directly, leaving Dugu Bo momentarily stunned. But soon the mask of composure crumbled, and his wrinkled features twisted with deep concern.

He leaned forward slightly, his voice low but hoarse with emotion.

“Young Master… you are right. I came here because of something that I can no longer shoulder alone.”

His fists tightened on his knees.

“You know, my granddaughter, Dugu Yan… she is my only weakness. My only family left in this world. Everything else—glory, status, strength—I can abandon them all. But not her.”

The old man’s eyes, so accustomed to cold indifference and the lonely path of poison, were now clouded with fear and desperation.

Qian Renxue leaned forward as well, her movements slow and deliberate. Her purple eyes glowed faintly as her mental strength reached out like invisible threads, brushing against the edges of his turbulent emotions.

Her voice was calm, soothing yet commanding, like a hand pressing gently against his heart.

“Then speak, speak freely of everything that has been eating away at your mind. You need not hide anything here.”

Under her psychological cue, Dugu Bo let out a long breath, his eyes narrowing as if replaying the scene in his mind.

“Two weeks ago, I had cultivating in the Ice and Fire Yin Yang Well, as I always do. That place is now Spirit Hall’s greatest secret, the foundation of our strength. I have made it surrounded by a poison array, to prevent anyone trespassing.”

He clenched his fist, his knuckles pale.

“But that day, I sensed disturbances outside the array. At first I thought it was some reckless adventurers, but when I emerged, I was met with the sight of none other than Yu Yuanzhen, the Clan Master of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, leading several Soul Douluos.”

His voice turned sharp, filled with bitterness.

“I greeted him as courtesy demanded. I told them that this was my place of seclusion and that outsiders were unwelcome. Yu Yuanzhen gave me that thunderous laugh of his, claiming they had only been passing by and meant no harm. It would have ended there… if not for him.”

Qian Renxue tilted her head slightly. “Him?”

Dugu Bo’s jaw tightened.

“A boy, no more than six years old, standing at Yu Yuanzhen’s side. At first, I thought him some favored descendent tagging along. But the moment he opened his mouth, I knew he was different. That brat’s words were like knives dipped in honey, sharp, glib, and utterly presumptuous.”

He sneered, his voice dripping venom.

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