Suppressing the tremor of excitement in her heart, Spirit Kite Douluo forced her expression into solemnity.
She bent deeply toward the lazy figure reclined behind the counter.
"Thank you, Senior, for granting me this supreme divine fire."
Her voice no longer carried even a trace of the earlier urgency or panic.
What remained was pure reverence—deference that came from the depths of her soul.
Lin Feng, lying in the rocking chair, didn't even bother lifting his eyelids.
He only let out a faint, dismissive "hmm" from his nose.
As if the Ultimate Fire—enough to shake the entire continent—was nothing more than a speck of ash on his sleeve.
He waved his hand lightly, telling her not to fuss.
Yet that casual gesture caused Spirit Kite Douluo's reverence to reach its apex.
But in the midst of this sacred silence, an abrupt, utterly untimely voice—overflowing with raw envy—shattered the atmosphere.
"Ultimate Fire… this is too cool!"
It was Yan.
In his simple, straightforward eyes, fiery desire flickered.
He was practically drooling.
As a fire-attributed Spirit Master, he understood better than anyone the meaning of Ultimate Fire.
He also completely failed to notice how the entire room's atmosphere instantly shifted.
Hu Liena's hand shot up to cover her face.
Xie Yue instinctively took half a step back, as though trying to distance himself from this hopeless companion.
It's over.
This idiot!
Indeed.
Spirit Kite Douluo's movements suddenly froze.
She turned her head slowly—painfully slowly.
Her phoenix eyes, burning with golden divine flames, locked unerringly onto Yan.
All the previous majesty and sacredness drained from her face.
What replaced it… was a half-smile.
A smile filled with dangerous amusement.
Like a satiated lioness leisurely observing a naïve young antelope that had wandered into her jaws.
Yan sucked in a sharp breath.
Only now did he sense that something was catastrophically wrong.
That gaze—utterly devoid of killing intent—made his scalp prickle more than any murderous aura ever had.
His legs trembled uncontrollably.
He watched Spirit Kite Douluo approach him, her steps elegant, measured, and terrifying.
Tuoba Xi's expression tightened.
Even knowing he was far from her match now, responsibility as an Elder forced him to step forward.
"Elder Spirit Kite, Yan… he meant no offense. Please—"
"Elder Tuoba, you misunderstand."
Spirit Kite Douluo's lips curved into an impossibly gentle, refreshing smile.
A smile that made Yan's very soul let out a silent scream.
With a voice softer than silk, she said:
"Yan's Spirit is also fire-attributed. Truly, this must be fate."
"Such talent, such character… I am deeply moved. I wish to take him as my disciple and guide him personally. Elder Tuoba—what do you think?"
Tuoba Xi was stunned.
Another Titled Douluo taking a disciple was hardly something he could oppose.
He simply nodded and stepped aside.
Meanwhile, Yan—the boy whose brain normally held only food, fighting, and Hu Liena—was struck by a flash of unprecedented clarity.
Take him as her disciple?
Personally guide him?
This was clearly revenge—righteous, justified, officially sanctioned revenge—for the "noodles in the nostril" incident!
In his mind, horrifying future scenes appeared one after another:
"Yan, your foundation seems unstable. Hang upside down and cultivate for ten days."
"Yan, your master invented a new technique. Come test it. Don't worry, I'll 'control my strength.'"
"Yan, ah—"
Yan's face drained of all color.
He instinctively wanted to refuse.
What a joke!
With Feng Ran Pavilion here, as long as he saved money, ate meals, and drew prizes, he could become a Titled Douluo effortlessly.
Why would he willingly walk into torture?!
But the moment he looked into Spirit Kite Douluo's smiling eyes—
Every beast-like instinct howled in warning.
If he dared to say "no" today… the consequences would be a hundred times worse than becoming her disciple.
His expression twisted into one more bitter than swallowing a dozen Coptis roots.
He stiffly turned to Hu Liena and Xie Yue, silently begging for help.
But all he met were Hu Liena's pity-filled yet gleeful eyes…
and Xie Yue's trembling mouth as he struggled not to laugh.
Both of them simultaneously stepped back.
No hope.
Just wait for death.
Finally, under Spirit Kite Douluo's increasingly "kind" smile, Yan—near tears—forced out:
"Disc… Disciple Yan… greets… Master…"
Spirit Kite Douluo's smile blossomed even wider, like a beautiful carnivorous flower laced with venom.
She placed a slender hand on Yan's stiff shoulder and patted it gently.
"Good disciple, no need for formalities."
"From today onward, your master will definitely… 'love' you very much."
The way she emphasized "love you" sounded to Yan like a devil whispering from the abyss.
While this tragic "master-disciple bonding" unfolded, Tuoba Xi's side was filled with pure bliss.
Tuoba Xi lifted the bowl of Golden Dragon Beard Noodles.
He picked up a strand of golden thread and placed it in his mouth.
At that instant, an indescribable, mellow flavor burst across his tongue, washing through his limbs, bones, and finally his very soul.
In over a hundred years of life—as Saint Dragon Douluo—he had prided himself on tasting all the world's delicacies.
Only now did he realize everything he had eaten before…
was mere fodder.
This—this was true food.
He forgot he was an Elder.
Forgot why he had come.
He simply ate devoutly, like a believer worshipping divine cuisine, finishing the entire bowl without leaving even a drop of soup.
He then moved on to the Sacred Light Kirin Arm.
The skin was crisp and fragrant, shimmering with a soft, sacred radiance.
The meat inside was unimaginably tender—ready to melt at the lightest pressure.
Each bite was a sacred baptism for the taste buds, especially when paired with the Ten-Thousand-Year Dragon Blood Brew.
Anyone would be intoxicated.
Unknowingly, Tuoba Xi had devoured everything.
Only then did he awaken from the trance.
But he knew… this was only the beginning.
The moment that would truly decide his fate was now approaching.
He rose slowly, every movement brimming with solemnity.
The Saint Dragon Douluo adjusted his robes—as though preparing to meet a god.
He withdrew a heavy pouch of coins from his spirit tool.
Stepping to the counter, he placed the thirty-six thousand gold coins before Lin Feng and bowed deeply.
"I beg Senior… to bestow divine grace."
_____________________
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