With the departure of the thieves, the Royal Knight Escort, responsible for protecting the competing teams, quickly regrouped and continued on their journey.
This time, though the road ahead remained peaceful, an oppressive atmosphere loomed over the group.
Two Titled Douluo from the Spirit Hall had been killed. And yet, they were still heading toward Spirit City. To put it bluntly, once they arrived, the Titled Douluo currently seated in the Shrek convoy would inevitably face a siege from the Spirit Hall.
A brutal battle was unavoidable.
However, Chen Xiaoming paid no heed to such concerns. Sitting comfortably in the convoy, he conversed with Ning Fengzhi, Tang San, and the others. To him, the Spirit Hall was a trivial matter. What truly mattered was soul bones.
"Little friend, you've slain two Titled Douluo of the Spirit Hall. They won't let this go. Isn't it unwise for you to head to Spirit City now?"
Ning Fengzhi looked at Chen Xiaoming in bewilderment. No matter how powerful he was, the Spirit Hall still had sheer numbers on their side. If they all attacked at once, even someone as strong as Chen Xiaoming would suffer injuries.
"Don't worry. You don't understand. The Spirit Hall isn't as powerful as you think."
Shaking his head, Chen Xiaoming decided it was time to enlighten them.
"The number of Titled Douluo in the Spirit Hall isn't that high—at most, around a dozen or so. I've already killed four. That leaves about twelve or thirteen."
As he spoke, he began counting on his fingers, muttering under his breath.
"The Grand Worshiper is one, the Second to Seventh Worshipers make six. Yue Guan, Gui Mei, Death God, and Snow Wolf—those four are already dead. That leaves Qian Jun, Jiang Mo, She Long, and Ci Xue—four more. Plus, there's Pope Bibi Dong. That makes a total of twelve."
Listening to Chen Xiaoming recite the names of Spirit Hall's Titled Douluo so casually, Ning Fengzhi and the others were dumbfounded.
Did he own the Spirit Hall or something? How did he know their numbers and names so precisely?
Even the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, after years of infiltration, hadn't uncovered this much intelligence!
"Wait… you said you killed four?"
Ning Fengzhi suddenly reacted, his voice filled with shock. Weren't only Yue Guan and Gui Mei supposed to be dead?
"Oh, when I went out for a stroll, I happened to run into two others. So, I just killed them along the way."
He explained nonchalantly, as if he were talking about buying vegetables at the market.
Ning Fengzhi and Tang San were left speechless.
In the last twenty years of peacetime on the continent, fewer Titled Douluo had fallen than the number Chen Xiaoming had just slain.
Even Ning Fengzhi couldn't imagine how furious Bibi Dong would be upon learning that four of her Titled Douluo had died.
"Alright, the Spirit Hall isn't important. Don't be afraid. If they provoke me, I'll simply wipe them out. A mere Qian Daoliu, who hasn't even ascended to godhood, can't stop me."
Waving his hand dismissively, Chen Xiaoming cut off the conversation. He hadn't come to Ning Fengzhi and Tang San to discuss the Spirit Hall. He had something more important in mind—soul bones.
"Master Ning, how about a trade?"
Smiling, Chen Xiaoming raised a single finger and spoke calmly.
"A skull bone, a torso bone, or a right leg bone. If you can provide any one of these, regardless of its age, I'll promise to assist the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect once in times of crisis."
"What do you think? With the wealth of your sect, this shouldn't be difficult, right?"
Ning Fengzhi fell into a momentary silence.
Chen Xiaoming's offer tempted him, especially since the latter had stated that any age of soul bone would do. He had no confidence in obtaining a 10,000-year soul bone, but a 100-year or 1,000-year soul bone? With the resources of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, that was certainly possible.
Soul bones were rare, but in Ning Fengzhi's eyes, Chen Xiaoming's promise was even more valuable.
"Alright. Before we reach Spirit City, I'll have an answer for you."
Ning Fengzhi nodded in agreement. Chen Xiaoming smiled faintly.
A 100-year or 1,000-year soul bone was far easier to obtain, and with Ning Fengzhi's wealth, acquiring one or two shouldn't be a problem.
With that settled, Chen Xiaoming turned his gaze to Tang San, his smile bright as sunshine.
"Ahem, Xiao San, do you need my help with anything?"
Tang San was momentarily stunned by the question. Then, as if something had come to mind, his eyes flashed with sharp insight.
However, he was puzzled—how did Chen Xiaoming know that he possessed a soul bone?
Had he been present when Tang San had killed Shi Nian?
Thoughts raced through Tang San's mind as he contemplated his options.
But just as he hesitated, a certain graceful figure flashed through his mind. In an instant, his indecision vanished, replaced by resolve.
"Teacher Chen, I do have a soul bone."
With that, he retrieved a crystal-clear skull bone from his Soul Tool. It shimmered with an otherworldly radiance.
Chen Xiaoming glanced at it but remained composed. He simply smiled at Tang San and spoke in a relaxed tone.
"Tell me. What do you want me to do?"
Chen Xiaoming wasn't one to owe favors. He had no reservations about killing Spirit Hall members like Death God Douluo and Chrysanthemum Douluo—they had targeted him first, after all.
But neither Tang San nor Ning Fengzhi had done him any harm. And since he wasn't one to kill indiscriminately, he wouldn't simply snatch the soul bone.
"I want Teacher Chen to protect someone for me."
Tang San's voice carried firm determination. Ever since his Purple Demon Eye had advanced further, a certain hidden worry had lingered in his heart. Now, with Chen Xiaoming here, he had found an opportunity.
Chen Xiaoming's expression darkened instantly.
Damn it. He should've seen this coming.
He had walked right into Tang San's trap.
Again.
He didn't even need to ask to know who Tang San wanted him to protect.
Without another word, Chen Xiaoming snatched the skull bone from Tang San's hand, gave him an exasperated glare, and hesitated.
But in the end, he couldn't hold back.
"Fine. I'll make sure she's safe. Now get lost."
A wave of soul power surged out, and before Tang San could respond, he was tossed out of the carriage.
Tang San blinked in surprise.
He hadn't even finished his request, yet he was already being thrown out?
But soon, a faint smile spread across his face.
As expected.
Quietly, he leapt onto another carriage—the one where the figure in his mind was sitting.
Though Tang San was gone, Chen Xiaoming felt his mood sour.
A perfectly good conversation, now tainted with the stench of public displays of affection.
"Do you smell that?"
Ning Fengzhi blinked, then sniffed the air.
"...I don't smell anything."
"It's the stench of shameless flirting."
Chen Xiaoming muttered to himself, gazing at the soul bone in his hand.
Somehow… it didn't feel as satisfying anymore.
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