Douluo Dalu: From Shinobi to Spirit Master

The visitor was a young girl.

She stood tall, her skin as pale as freshly fallen snow. A light white dress adorned her elegant frame, fluttering gently in the breeze. Long golden hair cascaded like a silken waterfall, glimmering under the soft morning sunlight. Her delicate features bore a resemblance to Bibi Dong, though she lacked the allure and seduction of the Pope. Instead, she radiated a youthful purity, untouched by time or corruption.

Yet, what caught Su Chen's attention most were her eyes—eyes so golden they seemed to pierce through one's very soul. They mirrored Bibi Dong's but held an indifference so profound it bordered on cold disdain, as though nothing in the world was worth her time.

Su Chen recognized her immediately. The faint, familiar fragrance confirmed it.

"Qian Renxue," he thought, his gaze narrowing slightly.

Her golden eyes were calm and unyielding, devoid of warmth. It wasn't mere aloofness; it was the aura of someone who had long since severed ties with frivolity.

If Bibi Dong's cruelty had bloomed after heartbreak, Qian Renxue was born into her cold detachment.

This was the same girl who infiltrated the Tiandou Empire at the tender age of nine, replacing Xue Qinghe, the Crown Prince. At fourteen, she had ruthlessly eliminated the empire's Second Prince. Her hands were stained with blood, yet her heart never wavered.

Such a prodigy—innate full soul power at level 20, inheriting a hundred-thousand-year soul bone at nine—was a rarity even in the annals of Spirit Hall.

And yet, Su Chen couldn't help but scoff inwardly. This same Qian Renxue, praised for her sharp mind and decisive actions, had later fallen victim to her emotions. Her obsession with Tang San, the so-called God King, had reduced her to nothing more than a lovestruck fool.

"How ironic," Su Chen mused.

The Angel God's inheritance, just like the Rakshasa God's, seemed less a blessing and more of a meticulously crafted cage. These inheritances shaped their bearers, but at what cost?

Su Chen's thoughts stirred momentarily, but he quickly reined them in. Now was not the time to challenge the schemes of the God Realm.

As he stepped aside to let her pass, their shoulders nearly brushed. Her fragrance lingered in the air, a fleeting trace of her presence.

For a moment, Su Chen felt her gaze linger on him. Golden eyes swept over him, sharp and calculating.

But just as quickly, that feeling vanished.

"Why is she here?" Su Chen wondered. "At this time, she should still be in Tiandou Palace. Could she be reporting back to Bibi Dong?"

It was a possibility. If her position in Tiandou was secure, Qian Renxue would undoubtedly play a pivotal role in his future plans.

"Stealing a kingdom through bloodshed is nothing but a fool's errand," Su Chen muttered under his breath.

He had no interest in wasting years on a campaign of violence. True power lay in subtlety. Control the economy, the military, and public opinion—replace the very foundation of a nation with your own agents. Twenty years was all it would take. When the time came, the monarchy would crumble on its own.

But first, strength. Without it, all plans were meaningless.

"Enough scheming for today," Su Chen sighed, stretching lazily. "I'll focus on developing usable ninjutsu once the lab is ready."

A small smile crept across his lips. "After all, it wouldn't hurt to recreate that technique…"

-----

In the Pope's Private Garden

Bibi Dong sat alone, the morning light spilling over the garden's delicate blooms. Her jade-like arm propped up her chin, her gaze fixed on a single substitute flower placed in a vase—Su Chen's gift.

Her thoughts were in turmoil.

Now that the illusions of her past had shattered, so many things she once ignored suddenly made sense.

Yu Xiaogang's fame, for instance, had little to do with his so-called "theories."

It wasn't his brilliance that brought him renown—it was her.

The Saintess of Spirit Hall, lending her name to his laughable ideas. Was there any better advertisement?

And yet, she had believed in him. When he abandoned her, she had clung to the delusion that he still loved her.

But now, with her heart laid bare, the truth was painfully clear.

When she was at her lowest, Yu Xiaogang was likely celebrating his escapades with her cousin.

"How ridiculous," Bibi Dong whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

A single tear glimmered before disappearing as quickly as it had come.

Her thoughts drifted to the silver-haired boy who had stood by her side. His words, his presence—they had become a salve for her wounded heart.

Perhaps, Su Chen was right. Yu Xiaogang was nothing but a pitiful, ignorant fool.

For the first time in years, Bibi Dong felt a flicker of something unfamiliar—relief.

"Well, it seems I'll have to let the little one examine my body."

Bibi Dong's tone carried a mix of resolve and playfulness. This wasn't a ploy to tease him—though the thought amused her—but a necessary step. Many of her spirit rings had been chosen based on Yu Xiaogang's so-called theories.

Back then, love had blinded her. Even when doubts about his logic arose, she had dismissed them without question. Now, clarity illuminated the flaws in her choices. If her spirit rings were indeed mismatched, addressing the problem sooner was imperative.

Still, the thought of seeing Su Chen flustered brought a rare upward curve to her lips.

As she sat in the Pope's private garden, imagining the awkwardness that might unfold, her serene smile radiated an unfamiliar warmth.

"Your Holiness… You—"

A stunned voice echoed from the garden's entrance, shattering the tranquil moment.

Bibi Dong's smile froze. She looked up sharply and met the wide-eyed gaze of a blonde girl standing stiffly at the doorway.

It was Qian Renxue.

For a moment, mother and daughter simply stared at each other. But for Qian Renxue, this sight was akin to her world collapsing.

Since childhood, her image of Bibi Dong had been as cold and unforgiving as the deepest winter. This woman—her mother in name but her enemy in essence—had never shown her a trace of affection. All Qian Renxue had ever received was disdain, hatred, and suffocating indifference.

She had long accepted that their relationship could never be mended. It was merely an exchange between superior and subordinate, tainted by mutual animosity.

Yet now…

What was this?

Before her stood the Supreme Pontiff of the Spirit Hall, smiling gently and radiating an indescribable warmth. The elegance of her expression was mesmerizing, and her beauty seemed to transcend mortal comprehension.

Qian Renxue's icy demeanor faltered. Her indifferent mask cracked, and an unfamiliar blush crept up her cheeks.

"You know you're not allowed to leave Tiandou City without permission, don't you?"

Bibi Dong's voice cut through the moment, cold and distant, shattering the illusion.

The gentle warmth vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the indifference Qian Renxue had always known.

It was as if the earlier scene had been a mirage.

Qian Renxue clenched her fists, forcing herself to steady her breathing. Within moments, she had reassembled her mask of aloofness, her expression now mirroring Bibi Dong's icy detachment.

"The second prince of the Tiandou Empire will be dead within three years. Who should I target next?"

Her voice was calm, devoid of emotion, as if she were discussing the removal of a pawn on a chessboard.

Bibi Dong's crimson eyes bore into hers, unimpressed.

"If that's all you came here for, you've disappointed me."

Her tone was sharp, each word laced with authority.

"Third prince, fourth prince—it doesn't matter. Whoever stands in your way, eliminate them. But remember, poisoning is a one-time tactic. Don't overuse it."

"I understand."

"Good. And don't leave any traces. If the Tiandou royal family becomes suspicious, the entire plan will unravel. You know the consequences."

Bibi Dong waved dismissively, her focus returning to the flower before her.

As if on cue, her expression softened once more. Her fingers brushed delicately against the petals, and a faint, tender smile played on her lips.

Qian Renxue hesitated, her steps faltering as she prepared to leave.

That smile…

It wasn't the cold, cruel smirk she was used to seeing. It was something entirely foreign—a warmth that seemed almost… maternal.

A storm of emotions surged within her. Surprise, doubt, and an emotion she couldn't quite identify clawed at her chest.

Then, unbidden, the image of the silver-haired boy she had seen earlier surfaced in her mind. His presence had been peculiar—cold yet commanding, far beyond his years.

He had emerged from this very garden.

Could he be the cause of Bibi Dong's strange behavior?

The thought lingered as Qian Renxue turned to leave, her heart heavy with a growing unease.