"Three days? Only three days?"
Ye Chen frowned deeply as he looked at Bibi Dong. These people… they weren't ordinary by any means. Anyone admitted into the Advanced Class had to not only meet the soul power requirement, but also possess top-tier martial spirits. These were not the kind of opponents he could instantly defeat like that bulky man from before.
This group—whether in talent or comprehension—stood at the pinnacle of the Douluo Continent. Even if their current soul power levels weren't at their peak yet, their potential was unmatched.
This was no ordinary competition. It was a clash between geniuses, and with Ye Chen only at level 40, he was starting from a natural disadvantage.
His gaze shifted to Hu Liena, standing closely beside him, and a surge of rage bubbled in his chest.
That was his woman.
And now, she was being used as a pawn in Bibi Dong's cruel game.
> "I can't afford to lose… Not even for a second. Not when it comes to Na'er."
Resolve flared in his heart. Turning to face Bibi Dong, whose expression was as cold as ever, Ye Chen asked firmly,
"Master, can I speak to you alone?"
Bibi Dong lazily waved her scepter.
"The marriage arrangement is final. If you've got more to say, come with me."
Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked into the courtyard house. Ye Chen followed without hesitation.
Behind him, Hu Liena's worried voice called out softly:
"This was all decided when Master learned about us… Please don't act recklessly. Don't anger her."
Her voice trailed off, filled with guilt.
As the door closed with a creak, those outside turned to Hu Liena with blazing eyes. Who wouldn't want to marry the Saintess of the Spirit Hall—the personal disciple of the Pope?
Winning her hand meant status, honor, and perhaps a fast track to elderhood in the Hall once one became a Spirit Emperor.
Among them, a red-haired man clenched his fists excitedly, as though ready to fight right then and there.
"Yan, now's your chance,"
Xie Yue said with a smirk, arms folded across his chest.
"You've been chasing my sister for years and failed. Don't screw this up."
Yan forced a bitter smile.
"Brother Xie Yue, I'm not so confident… There are stronger people than me in the Advanced Class. If I don't stand out, how can I compete?"
Xie Yue didn't answer. He had no respect for the weak. Only strength earned his admiration.
---
Inside the house, Bibi Dong stood tall in the hall. Her sharp gaze landed on Ye Chen.
"You've got one minute. Speak."
Ye Chen smiled faintly.
"One minute? That's way too short. I have so much to say…"
"You've got 56 seconds."
Ye Chen stepped forward slowly, closing the distance between them. Bibi Dong watched him without emotion, but a sliver of disdain curled her lips.
She knew what he was thinking.
With the soul power gap between them, even if he tried something unexpected, he couldn't hurt her.
If she didn't still have use for him, Ye Chen would have died long ago.
Out of curiosity, she even withdrew her spirit power and dismissed her staff, wondering what he would try.
Step by step, Ye Chen crept closer—careful, calculated.
Now less than a meter away, he could almost reach out and touch her. But he needed to be closer.
20 centimeters.
Even Bibi Dong began to feel slightly uneasy with him so near.
Just as she was about to step back, Ye Chen suddenly dropped to one knee, tears welling in his eyes.
> "Master! I beg you—please help me obtain a spirit ring! I can't lose Na'er! Not in three days. I'll do anything!"
The dramatic plea caught Bibi Dong off guard. She blinked, completely stunned, before a laugh finally slipped from her lips.
"Fool. Don't worry, I wouldn't just give Na'er away.
If you train properly, you might just have a shot at winning the wedding battle."
Ye Chen sniffled dramatically.
"Thank you, Master! I won't let you down!"
Bibi Dong looked at him thoughtfully.
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this guy didn't have the guts after all. He begged for mercy once before too—easy to manipulate.
Then—
"Master!"
Ye Chen suddenly dropped to both knees, flung out his arms—
—and hugged her tightly.
SLAP!
Pain exploded across his backside as a terrifying wave of anger burst from Bibi Dong's body.
BOOM!
A tidal wave of soul power tore through the courtyard, reducing the small house to rubble. Students outside were flung hundreds of meters through the air by the shockwave, losing consciousness mid-flight.
Only Ye Chen, standing in the eye of the storm, remained untouched.
He gulped.
Bibi Dong's eyes could freeze oceans.
But in his mind, the system's notification echoed:
> [Sign-in successful!]
That was the only thing keeping him calm.
Well… mostly.
"Gulp…"
Yeah, he was definitely still a bit scared.
They stood there, locked in silence. Until finally, Bibi Dong spoke:
> "You shouldn't have touched me. I almost killed you back there."
Her voice was cold, but her eyes… carried a strange complexity.
Ye Chen felt a pang of guilt. He remembered the pain behind her icy mask—the trauma she carried. Maybe… maybe he should've tried another way.
Then Bibi Dong turned, her voice soft.
> "Tonight, midnight. Come to the Pope's Hall."
She no longer referred to herself as "this emperor." That meant something.
Ye Chen stood in place, stunned.
"I'm sorry," he muttered.