Disappointed Chu Tianxiu
The wind screamed in Chu Tianxiu's ears, a bitter accompaniment to the storm raging in his heart. He urged the Amethyst Winged Lion King onward, pushing the mighty soul beast to its limits. They cut through the clouds, a black and gold streak against the vast blue sky, returning to Spirit City in a mere three days—a journey that should have taken a week. This time, he did not recall the lion king. He guided it directly toward the soaring spires of the Spirit Hall, a blatant, defiant declaration of his return that sent ripples of panic through the city below.
Soon, Spirit Hall experts with avian martial souls rose to intercept them, surrounding the majestic beast in mid-air. Because Chu Tianxiu was shrouded in a travel-stained black robe, they did not recognize him.
The leader, a seven-ring Soul Sage, stepped forward on his glowing wings. "Which expert trespasses into Spirit City?" his voice boomed, amplified by soul power. "Your actions have caused alarm! Land immediately and identify yourself!"
With a flick of his wrist, Chu Tianxiu threw back his hood, revealing a young, handsome face etched with cold fury. The moment the Spirit Hall experts recognized him, their aggressive stances melted into deep, uniform bows.
"Greetings, Your Highness, the Holy Son!"
Chu Tianxiu offered no more than a curt, imperious nod. "Disperse." He didn't wait for a response, piloting the lion king directly toward the heart of the Spirit Hall. As he disappeared from view, the guards exchanged nervous glances. The Holy Son's mood was a thundercloud, and they were all keen to stay out of the storm.
...
In the Papal Palace, Bibi Dong, clad in her formal papal robes, set down her pen and sighed, the sound hollow in the vast, empty hall. In the days since Chu Tianxiu's departure, a chilling dread had taken root in her heart. The more she thought about his plan, the more certain she became. Dealing with Tang San was one thing, but the personal, vicious intent he held for Yu Xiaogang... it could only lead to one conclusion. Her disciple, the boy she had raised, intended to slaughter them both.
And she knew him. He never acted without absolute certainty. Driven by a sliver of lingering, foolish hope for the man who had once abandoned her, and a growing fear of the tyrant her disciple was becoming, she had acted. She had gone to Notting City.
What she witnessed there had frozen the blood in her veins. She saw Chu Tianxiu's cold efficiency, his ruthless elimination of the Notting Academy dean—a man merely caught in the crossfire. She saw the ambush he had laid, the Soul Kings and Title Douluos who moved at his command, toying with Yu Xiaogang and Tang San. The boy she had cradled, taught, and loved had cultivated the heart of a merciless emperor.
When his two Title Douluo subordinates appeared, she could hesitate no longer. To conceal her identity, she used her second spirit for the first time in years, believing she could remain anonymous. But Chu Tianxiu's reaction—the raw, personal betrayal in his frenzied attacks, the way he left his own defenses open as if daring her to strike him down—told her he knew. He had seen through her.
Just then, a palace guard's shout echoed from outside. "Greetings, Your Highness!"
Hearing of his return, Bibi Dong forcibly smoothed her features, donning the aloof mask of the Pope once more.
But before he entered, his voice, cold as winter iron, rang out. "Jiu'an, you stay here. Anyone who dares approach before I come out, kill them without mercy!"
"Understood!" Ding Jiu'an's voice was a blade of solid ice.
The doors to the Papal Palace swung open. A figure shrouded in a black and gold robe strode in, his steps echoing with finality. Only when he stood directly before her throne did he remove the cloak, revealing a young, gentle face now twisted with a pain so deep it looked like physical agony.
Bibi Dong's composure broke. She rushed down the steps, her fingers grasping for his. "Little Xiu! Are you alright? Were you hurt?" Her concern was genuine, laced with a mother's panic.
Normally, he would have fallen into her embrace, reassuring her with a playful smile. Today, he took a deliberate step back, pulling his hand from her grasp as if her touch burned.
He spoke, his voice unnervingly calm. "Sister Dong'er, do you know? I successfully killed the four sons of the King's Banner this time. That old fool, Golden Crocodile Douluo, was also crippled by my hand..."
"Tianxiu, you did a great job," she said, trying to grasp for normalcy. "My Papal Palace will have fewer obstacles now."
The calm shattered. A bitter, broken laugh erupted from Chu Tianxiu's lips, devoid of any humor. "But I couldn't get rid of Yu Xiaogang and Tang San. Isn't that ironic?" His voice rose, cracking with emotion. "I killed four Title Douluos, but I couldn't kill two two-ring Great Soul Masters!"
"It's alright," she soothed, a desperate plea in her eyes. "Two Great Soul Masters alive is no big deal."
Chu Tianxiu looked at her, at the woman who was still trying to hide behind platitudes, and the dam broke. His laughter turned sorrowful, filled with a profound, soul-deep hurt. "Ha! Hah!... Ha! Ha!... Teacher," he said, the word a weapon. "How long are you going to keep pretending? Do you think I don't know that you are the one who saved Yu Xiaogang?"
The last vestige of color drained from Bibi Dong's face. "Xiaoxiu... when did you find out?"
"Teacher," he pressed, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Have you ever seen an eight-ring Soul Douluo who could protect two people while simultaneously repelling two Title Douluos and one Soul Douluo with a single blow?"
He took a step closer, his eyes boring into hers. "Sister Dong'er, I must ask you. Why?"
The mighty Pope, who decided the fates of thousands with a single word, found herself pleading with her own disciple. "Little Xiu," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Can you please... just stop? Stop trying to kill him."
For the first time in his life, Chu Tianxiu roared at her, the sound raw and full of a betrayed child's anguish. "Who am I doing all this for, Sister Dong'er? Don't you really know? Why do you keep protecting that good-for-nothing who abandoned you? The man who left you to suffer alone?"
Bibi Dong had no answer. She could only stand there, her silence a confirmation of his every painful suspicion.
The fight seemed to drain out of Chu Tianxiu, replaced by a weary, bottomless disappointment. He closed his eyes. When he opened them, the pain was gone, replaced by a frightening resolve. He circulated his soul power.
A profound, ancient energy filled the hall. Above Chu Tianxiu's head, three lotus flowers materialized, hovering in the air. One was black as the void, one white as pristine snow, and one a shifting, nebulous grey. The black lotus began to swell, pulsating with a malevolent aura. A figure stepped down from it, its feet touching the marble floor with a soft, definitive sound.
The figure was dressed in robes of pure black. Its face was identical to Chu Tianxiu's, but where his usually held warmth or cunning, this one's expression was one of pure, unadulterated viciousness. It was surrounded by a palpable aura of evil and killing intent, its eyes glowing with a faint red light.
Even Bibi Dong, the Pope of the Spirit Hall, recoiled in shock at the manifestation.
Chu Tianxiu withdrew the three lotuses back into his body. His voice was flat, final. "Teacher, I need to go out. I need to clear my head. This is one of my avatars. He will stay in the Spirit Hall in my place." He turned to leave, his movements stiff. "Take care."
"No!" A desperate, broken cry. A hand, fair and jade-like, shot out and gripped his arm with surprising strength, refusing to let go. "Little Xiu, no! Please don't go!" For the second time in her life, Bibi Dong shed tears for a man.
Chu Tianxiu stopped. He turned back, and for a moment, the mask of cold disappointment slipped. He reached out and gently stroked her cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb. His touch was heartbreakingly tender.
"Sister Dong'er," he said, his voice soft again, filled with a sorrow that dwarfed his earlier anger. "It's better for both of us this way. Please, let me go."
He gently, but firmly, pried her fingers from his arm. He stood up, squaring his shoulders, and walked towards the door without looking back.
He never made it.
"Pfft!"
A violent shudder wracked his body. A torrent of crimson blood sprayed from his lips, staining the pristine white marble floor before him. Bibi Dong rushed forward, only to be blocked by the black-robed Chu Tianxiu, whose expression was one of cold, murderous indifference.
The true Chu Tianxiu casually wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He didn't look at her, didn't look back. He simply walked out of the Papal Palace with Ding Jiu'an, leaving behind a vast, empty hall, a sorrowful Pope, and a silent, murderous copy of himself.
The adventure on the continent awaited, but the home he had known was now behind him.