365. Trap

When Tang Hao regained consciousness, it was already noon.

He found himself lying in a dark, damp alley, his legs being held up by someone who seemed to be treating his injuries—and had been working on him for most of the morning.

An unpleasant sausage was clenched between his teeth. But as he fully regained awareness and realized his situation, feeling the searing pain in his body, Tang Hao’s eyes widened in rage, turning blood-red.

He clenched his teeth, and blood spurted from his mouth. The Slaughter Domain burst out in a flash.

“Ahh—!” The two scarred men, one on each end of him, screamed as the power overwhelmed them.

“Ugh!” Tang Hao spat out a mouthful of the rancid blood. Wielding his Clear Sky Hammer, he mercilessly smashed the two men who had taken advantage of him, reducing them to pulp. Blood splattered across the narrow alley, the stench rising on the air.

When Tang Hao sat up, he glanced at a torn cloth in the corner, then at his body, blackened from searing lightning.

He, the mighty Clear Sky Douluo, had been reduced to this—a cripple, disgraced in such a way!

The blood-red light in his eyes flared again, his face twisted with hatred, and he let out a furious cry.

“Noooo! Cursed… damned Fallen! I, Tang Hao, will tear you to pieces!”

As he shouted, he spewed another cloud of blood from his throat, trying to clear the nauseating taste. But then he collapsed again, his charred skin soaked in blood and the foul surroundings. His eyes, clouded with tears, fought to stay open despite his injuries.

He couldn’t stay here. The killing intent he unleashed earlier would likely draw someone’s attention. They would’ve heard his shout. He had to move!

“Aah!” he roared, struggling to his feet, pulling a black robe from his soul tool and loosely draping it over himself before flying shakily into the distance. His flight was unsteady, low to the ground. Nothing was left of his dignity—he didn’t care anymore.

Curse the Spirit Hall!

Tang Hao gritted his teeth, vowing to settle the score with them. If the Spirit Hall hadn’t botched their work, he wouldn’t have encountered such a vile Fallen Spirit Master!

With a loud thud, Tang Hao fell after barely flying any distance, crashing into a thorny bush. Overwhelmed with pain and rage, his injuries worsened, and his vision blurred as he slipped into unconsciousness, blood still oozing from his torn wounds.


---

Meanwhile, Qian Renjue didn’t go directly to Notting Academy’s entrance. Instead, he led Ling Yuan and Xiao Wu straight toward the Spirit Hunting Forest outside Notting City. They still had nearly an hour before noon.

Within the forest’s entrance, a small patch of land was covered by the purple-black aura of the Evil God's Heart, unnoticed by anyone.

There, Qian Renjue sat cross-legged on the grass, gently combing Xiao Wu’s long hair.

Xiao Wu sat with her head bowed, clutching her clothing, her face and earlobes flushed with a soft, rosy color.

The pink Soul Absorbing Pearl at her neck seemed to pulse, as if cheering her on, proud of her.

Ling Yuan leaned against Qian Renjue’s strong shoulder, a gentle, contented smile on her face.

The Holy Son hadn’t resisted her advances. Recalling the heated aura she felt last night after daring to challenge Qian Renjue and offend the Holy Son's dignity, Ling Yuan felt a little dizzy, unable to suppress a soft murmur.

“Your Highness~”

Qian Renjue frowned, glancing down at Ling Yuan’s restless hand, and reminded her gently yet firmly, “Ling Yuan, keep an eye on the door; we have important matters.”

“Yes, I’m watching~” Ling Yuan replied softly, slowly moving her hand away from his waist.

She didn’t mind taking things slow; there would be a second chance.

Besides, the Holy Son might have already thought about such matters of affection, likely with someone else in mind.

Ling Yuan understood this well, but she wasn’t discouraged. Just being by his side, even as a bodyguard without official recognition, was enough for her.

Content, she glanced toward the entrance, her lips faintly curving in satisfaction.

“All done, little rabbit,” Qian Renjue said, gently sweeping the end of Xiao Wu’s braid across her neck.

“Ah~ Haha, Your Highness, that tickles~” Xiao Wu giggled, blushing as she shrank back, beaming with joy.

With a chuckle, Qian Renjue stopped the playful teasing, as braiding her long hair had been quite a task.

Thanks to Bibi Dong and her daughter's teachings, though, his skills had improved a lot.

Once Xiao Wu’s laughter subsided, she turned around, her cheeks still flushed, and threw herself into Qian Renjue’s arms, pressing a quick, grateful kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Mm,” Qian Renjue responded with a slight smile, gently holding the little rabbit in his arms.

Then, a voice from his system rang out in his mind.

[Congratulations to the host for successfully spreading love! (Recipient: Xiao Wu)] [Reward received: 300 points!]

Hearing the system’s message and checking his points balance, Qian Renjue couldn’t help but think back to the previous night.

When Ling Yuan swallowed her pride, the system had announced a successful spread of love—something he had tried to ignore.

This system sure knew how to play games.

Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, a loud, echoing frog croak broke his focus.

In a corner of the area, a ten-year-old soul beast—a Crispy Frog—was restrained by chains formed of dark gray ice. Its bulging green eyes looked weak, emitting an occasional croak.

This Crispy Frog was the second soul ring Qian Renjue had prepared for Tang San. Known for its tender and crispy skin, it got its name from its texture when cooked. Its primary attack method was its long tongue, which it used to snatch small prey into its mouth.

The frog’s croaks had barely died down when a fragrant breeze approached, and Ling Yuan’s voice came through.

“Your Highness, they’re here.”

“Hm?” Xiao Wu turned, gently tugging Qian Renjue’s sleeve.

“Your Highness, Tang Xiao San and his group have arrived.”

“Yes, I see them.” Qian Renjue nodded, casting a look at the wiry young man with slightly darkened skin from working iron. There was a hint of amusement and anticipation in his gaze. Spotting the middle-aged man with short-cropped hair, his expression turned colder.

At that moment, Yu Xiaogang’s stiff, pale, and yellowish face showed the aftereffects of illness. His thick, bloodless lips and frail state revealed he still hadn’t purged the toxins from his body; his legs trembled slightly in the sunlight, and he leaned on a cane. His right eye was covered, and his split ears had been stitched back together.

Yu Xiaogang coughed weakly, looking at Tang San, who was helping him along. “Xiao San, slow down a bit; hunting soul beasts can’t be rushed. Cough, cough!”