Ning Fengzhi channeled healing light into him—soft beams sinking into the stump of the arm.
But as soon as the healing light touched Gu Rong's body, Ning Fengzhi's brows knit tightly.
"This…"
It wasn't blood loss.
Gu Rong's spirit sea—was trembling violently, as if something had weighed down on it. It would recover eventually, but this was no simple injury.
A chill ran down Ning Fengzhi's spine.
"Qian Renxue… has the Seraphim Martial Soul. Her soul power should be light-oriented… but Gu Rong's condition—"
He froze mid-thought.
Slowly… mechanically… he reached into his breastplate pocket.
He pulled out a token.
Twelve-pointed star, a half-shut hooded eye.
The secret sigil used by the Twilght Hermit Order
He stared at it and laughed.
A hollow, self-deprecating sound.
"Qian Renxue…" he whispered.
CRACK—
A branch broke overhead and crashed to the ground.
Perfectly missing Ning Fengzhi, Ning Rongrong, and Gu Rong by inches.
It felt as if it was a coincidence.
No it felt as if the world itself whispered—
// Don't utter that name carelessly.//
Ning Fengzhi trembled uncontrollably.
He gently hugged his daughter as he stood up, Gu Rong slung across his shoulder.
His legs felt weak, but he forced himself to move.
Because he felt that he understood Qian Renxue's identity—
'Qian Renxue must be HER blessed one.'
(Author notes: Not knowing much, Ning Fengzhi concluded Qian Renxue as someone very close to Angel Goddess.)
-----
Six years ago
A few months had passed since Ning Fengzhi returned to the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan after attending Qian Xunji's funeral.
The world had not yet recovered from that shock when, only days later—
Bibi Dong ascended the Pope's throne.
Ning Fengzhi had been present at her coronation.He had watched the woman in purple and gold step onto the altar with cold dignity.
Now, as he walked back toward his office, followed by Chen Xin, the Sword Douluo, his mind churned like a storm.
'The balance of power on the continent has shifted.'
One of the Three Great Clans had withdrawn entirely from secular affairs.A terrifying piece on the chessboard had vanished.
'And Spirit Hall…'
Before, its power had been oppressive yet restrained.There had been whispers of internal reforms, small changes that suggested the Hall was preparing for a long-term restructuring.
But the moment Bibi Dong sat on the Pope's throne— then everything changed.
A faint smile crossed Ning Fengzhi's face, though there was no warmth in it.
'Spirit Hall's overbearing nature has returned in full.'
Their pressure on the sects had increased. Their presence across the continent had grown heavier. Their stance—harder than ever.
And in response—
'All other clans and forces have begun to subtly unite. Strange… but ironic.'
Spirit Hall's aggression had forced scattered powers to consolidate.
This strange unity, forged under pressure, benefited everyone—everyone except Spirit Hall.
Yet…
An expression of confusion overtook Ning Fengzhi's face.
'But why the mass food distribution?'
The Spirit Hall branches across the continent had begun distributing something they called Blessed Food to refugees and hungry , supposedly offered in the name of the Angel Goddess. The food can be received if a person comes and offeres his prayers to the Angel Goddess. Cheap porridge.Enough to sustain a starving child.
Food meant for beggars and slum-dwellers.
( Author notes: It's a mass distribution of food and Spirit Hall does not have a large hoarding of food like the emperor that can be disturbed to the common man.
This was done mostly because Qian Renxue had just become a demigod and many people praying can stabilize her )
It made no sense.
What political influence could be gained from feeding the lowest strata of the population?People who could be suppressed or redirected with a simple decree from the local officials?
And yet—
He felt a faint uneasiness.
A lingering thought he couldn't explain.
He opened the door as he along with Chen Xin , the Sword Douluo entered the room.
His mind returned to something that had lingered ever since that day in Spirit City, Qian Renxue.
She had stood beside Qian Daoliu, a small child with golden hair and purple eyes.
Her presence at the funeral had been brief—fleeting.Yet every attempt to investigate her afterward…
Had returned the same result:Nothing except only a name.
Qian Renxue, Daughter of Qian Xunji, Possibly was part of the Angel CorpsNothing more.
Ning Fengzhi leaned against the doorframe, a deep frown on his face.
Chen Xin wondered the reason for Ning Fengzhi's frown asked "Fengzhi, what makes you so worried."
Ning Fengzhi said out his thoughts aloud "How can information about a little girl… be so impossible to find?"
"Just what makes her information so secret?"
At that moment his gaze went towards his desk, on which a token was keptalong with a letter.
A twelve-pointed star, hooded eye watching from the darkness. The unmistakable sigil of the Twilight Hermit Order.
The token looked ordinary—but that only made it even more unnerving. It was placed there deliberately, elegantly, as if the owner had all the time in the world.
Ning Fengzhi's fingers trembled ever so slightly.
This was the clan leader's personal office— patrolled by elite disciples, and monitored constantly by the perceptive senses of Sword Douluo and Bone Douluo whose residence were nearby… yet someone had strolled in, left a token and a letter, and walked out without causing even a ripple.
He swallowed hard.
If a stranger could reach this room…They could reach him.Ning Fengzhi exhaled slowly, calming his heartbeat. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the trembling fading into sharp, cold clarity.
Chen Xin also noticed the token " Fengzhi this...."
However Ning Fengzhi cut him off
"Looks like, Elder Chen," he continued, "I have to re-evaluate the danger of the Twilight Hermit Order."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Up until now… I truly underestimated them."