The week following his another satisfying conquest of Liu Erlong was a period of tranquil domesticity and relentless progress. The news of Tang Hao's battle with the two Super Douluos had spread through the highest echelons of the empire like a shockwave, but for Zhang Tian and his small, private world, it was merely a data point, a confirmation of a theory that had shifted his long-term strategy.
He spent the week in a state of blissful, focused contentment. His mornings were dedicated to the grueling, yet rewarding, task of forging the new Emperor Team into a cohesive, deadly unit.
The initial resentment from the original members had been hammered into a grudging, and now a genuine, respect.
It was impossible to argue with results, and under his guidance, their power, their coordination, their very understanding of combat, was evolving at a breathtaking rate.
His afternoons were spent in the quiet, sun-drenched sanctuary of his own courtyard, a place of far more intimate, and far more profound, transformations.
He would train his two beautiful fiancées, their happy, exhausted cries of effort a beautiful, private music that was for his ears alone.
And his nights… his nights were a beautiful, chaotic symphony of shared passion, a nightly conquest that left his two wives sated, exhausted, and more in love with him than ever before.
He would regularly spend time with his secret Empress Ah Yin who continued to act out as his maid. But in reality, Ah Yin was managing the Blood Silver Grass clan and spreading them all over the world slowly so she would take more leaves from the estate to properly go and convert the Blue Silver Grass into Blood Silver Grass in other faraway locations.
He did, however, receive a piece of information through his silent, living network of Blue Silver Grass that brought a faint, amused smile to his lips.
Two days after his encounter with Liu Erlong recently … Tang Hao had come. A dark, sorrowful specter who had taken his broken, pathetic son away from the academy, and from the city, disappearing without a trace.
'Good,' Zhang Tian had thought, a cold, satisfied light in his eyes. 'Get him out of my sight. Let him train his little imposter. It just makes the eventual, inevitable fall even more satisfying.'
And now, a week after his last visit to the Imperial Palace, the time had come for his next, scheduled "private tea" with Qian Renxue.
He arrived at the now-familiar, beautiful, secluded pavilion in the center of the tranquil lake, a solitary, handsome figure moving through a world of silent, sculpted beauty. She was waiting for him, as he knew she would be.
She wore a simple, yet incredibly elegant, pale-blue gown today, the color a perfect, beautiful contrast to her long, golden hair. She looked… peaceful. A world away from the cold, calculating prince or the divine, imperious goddess he knew her to be.
"Zhang Tian," she said, her voice a low, melodic murmur. She offered him a soft, welcoming smile.
He offered her a polite, formal bow. "Renxue."
They settled onto the comfortable cushions, the delicate, porcelain tea set already steaming between them.
"I have some news," he began, his voice a casual, almost offhand sound as he accepted the cup of fragrant tea she poured for him. "It concerns our mutual… acquaintance."
Her beautiful face, which had been a mask of serene, welcoming calm, immediately hardened. The warmth in her violet eyes was extinguished, replaced by a cold, sharp light. "Tang Hao?" she asked, her voice a low, dangerous sound.
He nodded. "He has left the city. He came to the Shrek Academy two days ago. He took his son, Tang San, with him. They have vanished without a trace."
He watched her, his gaze sharp, analytical. He saw the flicker of pure, unadulterated frustration in her eyes. He saw the way her hand, which had been resting on the jade table, clenched into a tight, white-knuckled fist.
"Damn it," she hissed, the word a soft, venomous sound. "That slippery bastard. He is like a ghost." She let out a long, slow sigh, a sound of profound, weary frustration. "So, he has escaped again."
She looked up at him, and the cold, hard anger in her eyes was replaced by a look of genuine, heartfelt gratitude. "Thank you for the information, Zhang Tian. It is… invaluable. Even if it is disappointing news."
"You are welcome," he said simply. He took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea. "And on the topic of disappointing news," he continued, his tone shifting to one of polite, sympathetic concern, "how are your grandpas? Have they recovered from their… unfortunate encounter?"
She sighed again, this time a sound of genuine, worried concern. "They are well," she said, her voice a low, troubled murmur. "The Matriarch of the Ye Family, Ye Ruxue, she has been attending to them personally at the palace for the past week. Her Nine Heart Flowering Apple is truly a legendary healing spirit. She has healed all of their physical injuries. They are no longer in any pain."
"But," she added, her brow furrowing in a deep, worried frown, "there is a problem. A complication."
She looked at him, and her violet eyes were filled with a mixture of confusion and a deep, underlying fear. "There is a strange power left in their bodies. A sliver of his domain's energy. It is… not a poison. It is not a curse. It is… something else. Something… divine. It prevents them from accessing their full strength. It is a constant, draining presence that they cannot expel."
She shook her head, a look of profound frustration on her beautiful face. "My grandfathers believe that it is a power that belongs to a god. They believe that that Tang Hao… he has received the favor of a god. A god of slaughter. And they have no way to remove this divine energy from their bodies. They have even suggested that they may need to ask my own grandfather to intervene. To use his own, divine power to try and purge it."
Zhang Tian listened, his expression a mask of calm, thoughtful concentration. He took another slow sip of his tea, his mind a cold, brilliant chessboard, the pieces moving with a lightning-fast speed.
'A god of slaughter,' he thought, a flicker of dark, amused light in his eyes. 'The Asura God. So, they have recognized its divine nature. But they think Qian Daoliu can purge it? Fools.'
He knew, with a cold, hard certainty, that it was impossible. Qian Daoliu, for all his immense, Level 99 power, was still just a mortal. To ask him to directly confront the residual will of a God King… it was not just a foolish request. It was a suicidal one.
And he knew, with an even colder, more cynical certainty, that he could not allow that to happen. Qian Daoliu was a crucial, powerful piece on the political chessboard. To have him injured, or even killed, in a futile attempt to heal his subordinates… it would be a catastrophic loss. A loss that would weaken the one faction that was the greatest, most powerful check against the ambitions of Bibi Dong.
He had to intervene. He had to warn her.
He set his teacup down with a soft, precise click. He looked at her, and his expression was one of profound, almost sorrowful seriousness.
"You must tell your grandfathers to be exceedingly careful, Renxue," he began, his voice a low, somber sound that immediately captured her full, undivided attention. "And you must, at all costs, prevent your own grandfather from attempting such a foolish thing."
She looked at him, her violet eyes wide with a flicker of confusion. "What do you mean?"
"A power left behind by a man chosen by a god," he explained, his voice a low, analytical murmur, "is not a simple injury. It is a mark. And remember that one god does not always look kindly upon the followers of another."
He leaned forward, his gaze direct and piercing. "That god of slaughter is a being of chaos, of a pure, unadulterated, and almost religiously profound battle lust. Your Angel God, the one from whom your own, divine spirit is descended, is a being of light, of order, of a calm, holy purity. Their domains, their very essences, are antithetical. They are natural, eternal enemies."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "For your grandfather, the inheritor of the Angel God's legacy, to try and interfere, to touch that divine power directly… it would not be seen as a simple act of healing. It would be seen as a provocation. A challenge. The residual will of that god of slaughter, a thing of pure, instinctual, and almost mindless aggression, would not hesitate to lash out. And the consequences… they could be severe."
He looked at her, and his eyes were filled with a genuine, profound, and almost pitying concern. "Your grandfather may be a Level 99 Limit Douluo. He may be the most powerful mortal in the world. But against the divine will of a true God… he is nothing."
Qian Renxue stared at him, her heart a cold, heavy stone in her chest. The logic of his words was a sharp, undeniable blade that cut through her own, prideful assumptions. He was right. Of course, he was right.
A wave of pure, unadulterated, and almost physically tangible gratitude washed over her. He was not just thinking of her grandfathers' immediate recovery. He was thinking of her own grandfather's safety. He was thinking of her family. He… he cared.
"Thank you, Zhang Tian," she said, her voice a soft, heartfelt whisper. "I… I will tell them. I will warn him."
He just nodded, a calm, satisfied expression on his face. He had planted the seed. The rest was up to her.
The tense, serious atmosphere in the pavilion slowly began to dissipate, replaced once more by a comfortable, easy silence. Qian Renxue looked at him, and a new, different kind of light entered her eyes. The cold, calculating strategist was gone, replaced by a simple, curious, and almost… friendly woman.
"So," she began, her voice a light, conversational sound, "I heard a rather… interesting rumor this week. A rumor that the legendary, and very reclusive, Treasure Silver Civet team has decided to join an academy."
She smiled, a slow, teasing expression. "And not just any academy. The Heaven Dou Imperial Academy. And not just as students. But as members of the Emperor Team."
She looked at him, her violet eyes shining with a playful, probing light. "Tell me, Zhang Tian," she asked, her voice a low, amused purr, "are you planning on participating in the Continental Advanced Spirit Master Academy Grand Tournament?"
He just chuckled, a low, warm sound. "It is as the rumors say," he confirmed with a nod. "It will be a good experience. A fine crucible to hone the combat power of not just myself, but of my fiancées as well."
She just nodded, a thoughtful expression on her beautiful face as she took a slow, deliberate sip of her tea. "It is a good way to train," she agreed. "And to gain a great deal of renown."
She looked at him, and her expression was one of perfect, unwavering sincerity. "If you require anything for your training," she said, her voice a soft, promising murmur, "or for your fiancées… a specific type of spirit bone, a rare herb, a particular training ground… you only need to ask. I will provide it for you. Anything."
He just smiled, a slow, lazy, and incredibly mischievous expression. He did not answer with words. His gaze, a hot, possessive thing, slowly, deliberately, swept over her. It started at her beautiful, perfect face, lingered for a moment too long on her full, rosy lips, and then traveled downwards.
It traced the elegant, graceful curve of her neck, the delicate shape of her collarbones, and then came to rest, for a long, appreciative, and utterly, completely, and shamelessly possessive moment, on the magnificent, full globes of her breasts, which were a perfect, beautiful silhouette against the fine, pale-yellow silk of her gown.
A brilliant, unsolicited blush, a beautiful, delicate rose that was a stark, jarring contrast to her usual, cold, regal composure, flooded her cheeks.
She did not look away. She did not reprimand him. She just sat there, her heart a frantic, excited drum against her ribs, her breath catching in her throat. She knew what he was asking for. She knew what he wanted. And she… she wanted him to say it.
But he didn't. He just smiled, a slow, lazy, and incredibly satisfied expression. He took a final, slow sip of his tea and then, with a calm, unhurried grace, he stood.
"Thank you for the tea, Renxue," he said, his voice a low, amused purr. "It was… delightful."
And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her alone in the beautiful, moonlit pavilion, her body a live wire of new, confusing, and incredibly, powerfully, and thrillingly unsated desire.
'He's playing with me,' she thought, her hands clenching into fists in her lap, her knuckles white. 'The bastard. And I… I love it.'
~~
One year.
A full productive year had passed.
The world had changed.
The Heaven Dou Empire was a place of quiet, simmering tension. The Spirit Hall's hunt for the elusive, and now completely silent, Tang Hao had turned up nothing. The great clans and academies watched each other with a new, wary respect, their agents and spies a constant, silent presence in the capital.
The Shrek Academy, under the new, and surprisingly effective, leadership of Dai Mubai, had become a force to be reckoned with. They had dominated the lesser arenas, their reputation as a team of ferocious, battle-hardened monsters growing with every brutal, bloody victory.
The Emperor Team, under the calm, brilliant, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly masterful guidance of Zhang Tian, had become a legend. They did not fight in the public arenas. They trained. In secret. Their power, their coordination, their very existence, was a beautiful, deadly secret that was known only to the highest echelons of the Imperial Family and the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect.
And the trio… the trio had become monsters.
Their nights of passion were a constant, beautiful, and deeply, profoundly, and wonderfully satisfying thing. And their days of training were a relentless, brutal and productive crucible.
Their spirit power had soared.
Zhang Tian had reached Level 50.
Zhu Zhuqing was at Level 48.
And Ning Rongrong was at Level 47.
The Continental Advanced Spirit Master Academy Grand Tournament was now just a few short weeks away.
The stage was set. The players were in place.
And the world… the world was not ready for the storm that was about to be unleashed.
~~
A/N: Check out my other novels like "Harem Master: Seduction System" and the "Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist" and I hope you like this story and those stories as well.
Check out more chapters on my P.atreon. The P.atreon will have 20+ Chapters ahead for this story. I hope you like it.
The link of p.atreon is: bit.ly/evildragon