Chapter 11: I Am the True Director
Qian Renxue followed the voice and turned toward its source. Before her stood a man whose divine power was perfectly restrained, yet the depth of his aura felt unfathomable. A strange sense of familiarity washed over her, and soon she recognized him.
"It's you!"
Her words surprised Huo Yuhao slightly. After all, he hadn't existed in Qian Renxue's era.
"You know me?" he asked.
Qian Renxue replied calmly, "My soul drifted within the chaotic currents of time for twenty thousand years, carried along with the fragments of my shattered Angel God divinity. In those endless millennia, I have sensed countless so‑called geniuses—but only one truly left an impression on me. That person was you."
"The fate surrounding you was immense, far surpassing even Tang San's. By all logic, your ultimate achievements should have eclipsed his. Unfortunately, you chose to become his lapdog in the end."
The corner of Huo Yuhao's mouth twitched. His so‑called dark history was apparently known even to Qian Renxue.
"You brought me back," she continued coldly. "Was it Tang San's order that you revive me? If so, then kill me now."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Huo Yuhao frowned.
"No matter his motives, if Tang San is behind this, I will never let him succeed," she declared with conviction.
Huo Yuhao shook his head. "I revived you, not him. Tang San had nothing to do with it—and I am not his lapdog."
Qian Renxue's tone was sharp. "You married the heir of the Clear Sky Sect, revitalized the dying Tang Sect, and joined Shrek Academy, raising it to new heights. Tell me—how are you not his lapdog?"
If anyone else had dared speak to him that way, Huo Yuhao might have crushed their spirit with a single thought. But Qian Renxue's candor intrigued him. He could see through her intent—she wanted to provoke him, to make him kill her.
"What you see isn't the truth," he said evenly. "From the day I was born, I was caught within Tang San's web of fate. I am a child of destiny from ten thousand years after your time, yet my entire life was just another strand in his scheme. Tell me, what choice did I have but to play the role he wrote for me? Even bound by incomprehensible luck, I was nothing more than a puppet dancing in his shadow."
Then Huo Yuhao told her everything—from his birth to his betrayal, from his struggles against Tang San to the final strike that ended it all.
"So you destroyed Tang San… his wife, his parents, everything he built?" Qian Renxue asked, astonished.
"That was the price he paid for ruining my life," Huo Yuhao said coldly, his eyes like ice.
"You succeeded, yes," she admitted. "But even with Tang San and his parents gone, the Divine Realm faces disaster. The Douluo Continent is being invaded by the Abyssal Plane—"
"There was only one chance," Huo Yuhao interrupted. "If I didn't act then, the realms—both divine and mortal—would have remained his Tang family's kingdom forever. Maybe the world will fall to ruin without him. So be it. Oblivion is better than submission."
"I can hear the hatred in your voice," Qian Renxue observed quietly.
Huo Yuhao's gaze darkened. "If you were like me—forced to live every moment under his control, like a puppet on invisible strings—you'd hate him too." He paused, a bitter thought flickering behind his calm expression. Knowing the story yet being compelled to play your assigned role—that's the cruelest torment of all.
"My hatred toward him differs from yours," Qian Renxue said firmly. "He destroyed my faith, my lineage, my life—that is blood vengeance and the annihilation of our creed."
"Which is precisely why I revived you," Huo Yuhao replied with a sly smile. "Do you know what happened to me after I entered the time‑space turbulence?"
She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I went back," he explained. "Back to the distant past, long before your Angel God even ascended. I returned to the early Douluo Continent—thousands of years before Tang San's birth."
Qian Renxue's eyes widened with comprehension.
"That's right," Huo Yuhao said. "The Spirit Hall still stands—your grandfather's era, your father's era. The so‑called Sea God hasn't even been born yet. Everything… can be changed."
Her voice trembled. "Then—can I descend? I want to—"
"I know what you want," Huo Yuhao interrupted, his voice taking on a commanding tone. "You want revenge. So do I. But remember this: I am the director of this play. You will follow my script, and you will act according to my plan."
A long silence passed before Qian Renxue finally nodded. "Understood." Though she had her own goals, he was right—for now, their paths aligned. Both wished to see Tang San suffer.
After a moment of hesitation, her voice softened. "May I see my grandfather, the Supreme Worship, and… my mother? Please, Eternal God King."
Huo Yuhao opened the Eye of Eternity. Divine sight filled Qian Renxue's vision.
She saw the towering majesty of Spirit City—the golden radiance of the Worship Hall, where five great elders presided. It was almost as she remembered, though Qian Daoliu seemed a little younger, and the Lightning and Holy Plume Worships were not yet at their peaks.
She then saw her father—tall, radiant, a paragon of light. Despite the pain his memory caused her, joy welled up inside at the sight of him.
And then—her mother. A six‑year‑old Bibi Dong, newly awakened with the Death Spider Emperor and the Soul‑Eater Spider Emperor, nervously entering Spirit Hall for the first time. The child's innocent face carried faint echoes of the woman who would one day become her mother.
Two millennia of loneliness crumbled in an instant. Tears streamed down Qian Renxue's cheeks as she reached out a trembling hand toward the vision, desperately trying to touch them—but the moment her fingertips brushed the image, ripples shattered the illusion.
She lowered her head, whispering through clenched teeth, "I'll kill Yu Xiaogang. I'll stop my father. I'll kill Tang San. I'll end every tragedy before it begins…"
Huo Yuhao shook his head. "That's not part of my plan. Death would be too merciful for them."
"Then… may I at least go to Spirit Hall? To see my grandfather?" she asked softly.
"You? Like this?" Huo Yuhao chuckled. "Walk into Spirit Hall now, and Qian Daoliu will smite you on sight with the Judgment of the Angelic Sword."
Only then did Qian Renxue glance down at herself—and realize her transformation. Her late years consumed by despair had twisted her very nature. Her once‑holy divinity had inverted: her radiant six wings now dark, her light turned to shadow. The Seraphim had fallen; she was now a Six‑Winged Fallen Angel. Her grandfather would never recognize her.
Huo Yuhao produced a letter sealed with his divine insignia, together with a fallen angel's god seed and a ring shimmering with divine resonance. Handing them to her, he said, "This ring will connect our realms; you can reach me anytime through it. The letter, bearing the Eternal God's mark, will direct you to the current Angel God. Ask her to deliver an oracle to your grandfather. Through her temple's planar channel, you will descend safely to the mortal realm. While you're there… give this god seed to Qian Hanyu, the present Angel God. Let her decide its fate herself."
(END CHAPTER)
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