Meal money?
Monthly subscription?
When these words calmly left the mouth of the Supreme Pontiff, the kneeling Spirit Douluo elder felt his mind implode.
His thoughts were blasted apart as if struck head-on by a Titled Douluo's spirit skill. His brain buzzed, blank, unable to form a coherent thought.
Had he misheard?
That was Vault Number Seven!
The heart of Spirit Hall's wealth—accumulated over nearly ten thousand years!
And Her Holiness was going to… use it…
for meals?
And not even once—
but for a monthly subscription?
What kind of meal required such a price?
What kind of being could demand the entire strategic reserve of Spirit Hall as pocket change?
The thought alone nearly made the elder faint.
He almost blurted out a desperate plea for her to reconsider.
But before a single word left his mouth—
Bibi Dong's eyes, clear and calm but sharp as a blade, swept over him.
"Do I need to repeat myself?"
There was no rage.
No madness.
Only a cold, absolute authority.
Boom—
The elder felt as if thunder had struck his spine. All doubt, confusion, and the urge to resist evaporated instantly beneath that chilling pressure.
He lowered his head so fast he nearly smashed it on the floor.
"Y–Your subordinate obeys!"
He didn't dare stay a second longer.
Before he even finished speaking properly, he stumbled out of the main hall, fleeing as though a god were hunting him.
The night passed in silence.
Before dawn — Soto City
Inside a modest hotel room, Zhu Zhuqing slowly opened her eyes.
Her once-cold cat-like pupils now glowed faintly with moonlight, her entire aura becoming ethereal and sacred—like a silent goddess of the night.
One night of cultivation had fully fused the power of the Immortal Herb, moon soul flowing light epiphyllum, into her spirit power.
She didn't rise.
She simply sat, calm and still—yet her perception flowed outward like mercury, silently penetrating the walls.
To her left—
A suppressed aura seethed with burning greed.
Tang San.
To her right—
A violent, jealous, possessive aura twisted like a beast's snarl.
Dai Mubai.
All exactly as she had expected.
Shrek Academy was, at its core, a crude and chaotic makeshift group.
A place where a teacher dared to strike a student over a disagreement would never simply let her go.
Especially not Tang San.
She was now certain:
The look he gave her earlier wasn't curiosity…
and it wasn't suspicion.
It was hunger.
The naked greed of a starving wolf eyeing a wounded deer.
He knew the value of the Immortal Herb.
And the two blazing, restless auras pressing against the walls were final confirmation of all her suspicions.
Yesterday, she might have felt fear.
But today—
there was only calm.
Cold, detached calm.
Just then—
The maple leaf badge on her chest glowed gently, releasing a warm red light.
The radiance swirled, forming a silently rotating oval portal—leading to the divine realm.
Zhu Zhuqing stood, brushing off invisible dust from her black-and-red uniform.
Without sparing a glance at the anxious auras beyond the walls, she stepped into the portal with a serene, pilgrimage-like smile.
Silence returned to the room.
Meanwhile, next door—
Tang San and Dai Mubai, who had been holding their breaths and pushing their perception to the limits, snapped their eyes open at almost the same moment.
She was gone.
Zhu Zhuqing had not moved.
She had not walked away.
She had simply—
vanished.
Both men burst from their rooms, slamming open Zhu Zhuqing's door.
Empty.
"Damn it!"
Dai Mubai punched the wall with a deep thud, frustration and fury twisting his features. His prey had escaped.
Tang San's face was dark as frost.
His plan.
His opportunity.
His Immortal Herb—
Gone.
Vanished into thin air.
The moment Zhu Zhuqing stepped into the warm light of the portal and returned to Feng Ran Pavilion—
Two more ripples appeared beside her, and Hu Liena and Zhu Zhuyun stepped out as well.
Overnight, all three women had undergone earth-shaking transformations.
Hu Liena's innate charm radiated subtly now—not as a technique, but as an instinctive presence.
Zhu Zhuyun's eyes, once burning with ambition, now concealed all sharpness—like a peerless divine weapon resting within its sheath, more terrifying in its restraint.
The three had fully refined the divinely bestowed Immortal Herbs.
Their gazes met, and invisible sparks flickered in the air.
But before any of them could speak—
A suppressed argument drifted from outside the door.
The voices carried a terrifying aura that would have made any ordinary Spirit Master collapse under pressure.
The three women exchanged a glance, then leaned lightly toward the entrance, pushing the heavy door open just a crack.
Three heads stacked neatly—top to bottom.
Three pairs of eyes widened with synchronized shock.
The sight outside was simply… absurd.
The entire Spirit Hall Elder Council, led by Supreme Pontiff Bibi Dong herself, stood outside the restaurant like devoted pilgrims.
Yet what truly stole their breath was not the Supreme Pontiff.
Their gazes shifted—
And their pupils shrank sharply.
That was not a "mountain."
It was a mountain of wealth.
A blinding hill of unimaginable treasures—its radiance enough to hurt the eyes.
Gold coins formed the flooring beneath richer treasures.
Rare ores, precious enough to drive Divine Craftsmen mad, were piled casually like rubble.
Gemstones the size of a baby's fist bent light around them as if the air itself bowed in awe.
"G–gulp."
Hu Liena swallowed with difficulty.
As the Holy Maiden of Spirit Hall, she recognized many items instantly.
Treasury Number Seven.
The core of Spirit Hall's heritage.
The lifeline that could support a full-scale continental war.
A reserve untouched for millennia.
Now—
completely emptied.
Dumped like trash outside the door of Feng Ran Pavilion.
Across from the treasure mountain—
Qian Daoliu, the High Priest, the living legend of Spirit Hall, stared at Bibi Dong as though she had lost her mind entirely.
Elders Guang, Ling, and Jiang Mo clung to him desperately, their expressions pale with terror.
"High Priest! Calm down! Please calm down!"
"This is Feng Ran Pavilion! You must not offend the senior!"
But Qian Daoliu heard nothing.
His body trembled with fury, his aura leaking uncontrollably—a Level 99 Peerless Douluo on the brink.
Pointing at Bibi Dong, his voice cracked—not in reprimand, but in devastation.
"Bibi Dong—are you insane?!"
"You emptied Treasury Number Seven! That is the ten-thousand-year foundation of Spirit Hall! The glory of the Angel God!"
"And now you want to exchange it…"
His voice shook.
"…for a few meals?!"
_____________________
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