Qian Renxue's movements paused.
Her sauce-stained little face lifted, glaring up at Bibi Dong—yet the noodles dangling from her mouth continued disappearing at full speed.
Bibi Dong's tone remained calm. Too calm.
With that faint, knowing amusement that made people subconsciously straighten their backs.
"If I hadn't emptied the Spirit Hall's treasury and made that old Qian Daoliu panic…"
"How else would he agree to let you move the Heaven Dou national treasury back overnight?"
"If not for that, you'd probably have to wait years before you could taste such delicacies."
Qian Renxue blinked.
Chewing slowed.
Her thoughts tangled into a confused ball.
…It seemed… reasonable?
But something still felt off.
Whatever.
If she couldn't figure it out, she wouldn't think about it.
Thinking while eating was the greatest disrespect to food!
She buried her head back into the bowl, shovel-speed increasing.
Bibi Dong no longer spared her a glance.
Her movements stayed elegant, but her eyes drifted to Lin Feng with a subtle urgency.
"Senior, I have finished my meal."
The meaning was obvious:
Draw. My. Reward.
Lin Feng yawned lazily, lifting his hand.
Alright, alright. Today's le— cough, today's income wasn't bad.
A moment later, the System's familiar, irritatingly cheerful electronic tone rang in his mind:
"Ding! Congratulations to Leek No.1— oh no, 'Distinguished Monthly VIP' Ms. Bibi Dong— for drawing: three pairs of Epic Fashion— 'Eternal Black Stockings'!"
Lin Feng nearly rolled off his recliner.
Black stockings?!
Countless questionable images flashed across his mind. His soul froze.
System, what kind of setup is this?!
You want me, a dignified chef, to hand the Pope of the Spirit Hall a set of black stockings?!
If this got out, where would his 'Master' persona go?!
The System snorted.
"Small-fry host, adjust your thinking."
"This is battle divine attire. First: self-repairing, warm in winter, cool in summer. Second: its defense equals a thousand-year Spirit Ability."
"And most importantly: amplification is directly proportional to the damage to the stockings. The greater the damage, the stronger the boost—up to 50%."
"The more torn, the stronger! The more shredded, the crazier! It is a divine artifact forged for peerless female War Gods! What do you know?!"
Lin Feng stared blankly.
Combat power increases… the more torn they are?
What demonic game design was this?
In his mind, an image appeared:
During a fierce battle, Bibi Dong suddenly shouting:
"Are you even trying?! Hit harder! My stockings aren't even torn!"
The mental picture made his toes curl into another dimension.
If this got out, wouldn't he be remembered not as the Pavilion Master…
…but as the Black Stockings True Monarch?
As he struggled internally, a luxurious black gift box materialized in his hand.
He handed it over like it was radioactive.
"Ahem… your reward."
He braced himself for Bibi Dong's glare.
Bibi Dong accepted it with a flicker of doubt in her violet eyes.
She lifted the lid.
Three pairs of folded black stockings rested quietly on silk, exuding a dangerous, mysterious aura.
Even she paused.
…Stockings?
Was this senior harboring particular tastes?
Just as she silently questioned, Lin Feng's voice sounded again—
Completely flat, like he was reading a product manual.
"'Eternal Black Stockings', special defensive attire. To yourself, they feel like normal clothing. To others, their defense equals a thousand-year Spirit Ability."
"Warm in winter, cool in summer, water- and fire-resistant, self-repairing."
"And most importantly… their amplification is proportional to their damage."
He paused.
Then delivered the kill shot:
"The more torn, the stronger. Up to… fifty percent."
Bibi Dong's hand froze.
She looked up sharply.
The doubt vanished—
replaced by an unprecedented brilliance.
Fifty percent.
A fifty percent power increase.
And the more desperate the situation, the stronger the boost.
This wasn't a divine artifact.
This was a life-saving cheat.
A counter-kill trump card crafted just for her.
Bibi Dong reverently closed the gift box, holding it like the future of the Spirit Hall.
This wasn't equipment.
This was a bug.
With this, she could literally tear her stockings mid-battle and instantly power up, turning the tables on the spot!
What a sinister—
cough—
what a brilliant tactical design!
Watching her delighted, almost eager expression—
as if she wanted to put them on immediately—
Lin Feng's worldview crumbled.
No way…
You accept this too?!
You're the Pope!!
Where is your composure? Your dignity?!
Bibi Dong carefully tucked the box into her spirit tool.
Then she looked at Lin Feng, her tone filled with sincere admiration:
"Senior's gifts… are always so exquisitely precise."
Lin Feng: "…"
My reputation is officially ruined.
Just then, three figures appeared outside the crystal-clear glazed doors of Feng Ran Pavilion.
The lively atmosphere froze for a heartbeat.
Everyone turned—
including Lin Feng on his recliner.
What was happening today?
Customers were arriving in waves.
The newcomers were none other than:
Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect Master Ning Fengzhi,
Sword Douluo Chen Xin,
and Bone Douluo Gu Rong.
Ning Fengzhi originally only planned to bring one.
But Bone Douluo insisted on coming.
According to Gu Rong, he had to personally ask Qian Renxue whether his Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect had dug up her ancestors' graves—
to deserve such a fearsome weapon!
He had vomited all night!
He nearly vomited out his liver!
This grievance must be settled!
Sword Douluo…
Ever since slicing that chamber pot, his sword heart was like a savings book—
only the fold remained.
Leaving him in the Sect was pointless. Better to bring him out and let him breathe some air.
The trio arrived at Spirit City, marching straight to the Supreme Pontiff Palace to demand an explanation for the "Holy Maiden's undercover national treasury heist."
But they found the palace empty.
Bibi Dong? Gone.
Yue Guan? Gone.
Gui Mei? Gone.
Not a single leader in sight.
After asking around, Ning Fengzhi nearly exploded.
They all went out?
To eat?
At a place called Feng Ran Pavilion?
Ning Fengzhi was furious.
Your Holy Maiden's identity is blown.
She ran off with half a country's treasury.
And all you high-ranking officials have time to go out for lunch?!
Fine.
Today, he would ask Bibi Dong—
in front of everyone—
how she planned to compensate!
But the moment he confidently strode into the restaurant—
He froze.
His professional smile—
polished through years of political finesse—
shattered inch by inch.
_____________________
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