Chapter 1: A Marriage Built on Lies
In front of the grand Pope's Palace, Qin Chuan stood tall, his expression complex, yet his heart unusually calm.
"Bibi Dong, let's get divorced."
His words were steady—this wasn't an impulsive decision. In fact, he had been thinking about this for a long time. He had carefully weighed his feelings and the truth he had come to accept.
Bibi Dong, who had just returned to the Pope's throne, halted in her steps. Her delicate body visibly trembled.
"What… did you say?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly.
She turned to face him, revealing a face of peerless beauty. Her red lips were soft and alluring, her skin smooth like cream, her figure elegant and well-proportioned. Especially under the hem of her Pope's robe—her legs, full and flawless, added an air of intoxicating charm.
"I said… let's get divorced," Qin Chuan repeated, calm and unflinching.
It had been over a decade since he transmigrated to the Douluo Continent. His feelings for Bibi Dong had shifted over time—from revering her like a goddess atop a pedestal, to marrying her through the arrangement of his teacher, Qian Xunji.
At the time, Qin Chuan had been thrilled.
Even though he knew that the marriage was politically motivated—that Qian Xunji only wanted to bind a genius like him, a man with a god-level martial soul, to the Spirit Hall forever—Qin Chuan still felt grateful.
Because he truly, deeply loved her.
He loved her so much that he never once held her past against her. He only looked forward, clinging to hope for a happy future.
Even after marriage, despite Bibi Dong refusing to consummate the relationship for over ten years, Qin Chuan always found an excuse for her. He convinced himself that she was haunted by the "Nightmare in the Chamber of Secrets."
But today…
What he witnessed shattered all of that.
She had secretly met with that man—Yu Xiaogang.
Just like in the original storyline he knew.
But what broke him wasn't just the secret meeting. It was what happened after.
After that worthless man left, Bibi Dong sat in his seat… and drank deeply from the cup he had used, as though she were savoring something precious.
That moment made Qin Chuan's stomach churn. He felt physically repulsed.
It wasn't that she couldn't escape the shadows of her past—it was that she had never let go of that man.
Everything Qin Chuan had held onto for more than ten years now seemed like a cruel joke.
"You…" Bibi Dong's voice was laced with disbelief. "Qin Chuan… Don't be ridiculous. We've been married for over a decade—"
He didn't interrupt her.
He simply looked at her with a calm, resolute gaze.
Bibi Dong's expression slowly froze.
He wasn't joking.
"I don't agree!" she snapped suddenly, her voice cold.
Her hand holding the gem-encrusted scepter trembled slightly, betraying her emotional turmoil.
"We've been together for more than ten years. We've always respected each other. Why are you suddenly asking for a divorce?"
"You want to end things so rashly—how am I supposed to explain this to the soul masters of Spirit City?"
"I won't agree!" she declared fiercely. "I will never agree to a divorce!"
As the first female Pope of the Spirit Hall, Bibi Dong was proud—proud enough to control everything in her life.
She had already suffered one humiliation in her youth. She refused to allow another blemish to stain her legacy.
More than that, she didn't think their marriage was a failure.
From her perspective, they had coexisted peacefully for over a decade.
"Gotten along well?" Qin Chuan sneered.
"You've refused to consummate the marriage for ten years. Is that what you call 'getting along well'?"
"So that's it, isn't it?" Bibi Dong's tone rose in anger. She turned and marched back toward the Pope's throne, her heels and scepter clacking across the marble floor.
But just as she was about to sit down, she hesitated, then turned back and strode toward him.
"Is this about that?" she asked furiously. "Qin Chuan, didn't I tell you I would give myself to you… when the time was right?"
"Can't you endure a little longer? Are you that shallow, like all those other men? Is that the only thing that matters to you?"
She looked into his eyes with righteous indignation.
But Qin Chuan only felt more bitter, more disgusted.
"Bibi Dong," he said flatly, "we've known each other for over ten years. Let's end things peacefully."
"Don't force me to say things you won't want to hear."
"It won't be good for either of us if this ends in a mess."
But Bibi Dong was already at her breaking point. She screamed without thinking:
"Then say it! Whatever you want to say—go ahead!"
"You cheated," Qin Chuan said coldly.
Her body froze. Then her fury exploded.
"I did not! You're slandering me!"
Her emotions ran wild. The pressure of her spirit power surged outward, forming dense cyclones that tore through the air around them.
The Pope's Palace seemed to tremble under the force of her rage.
"How dare you accuse me of that!" she shouted. "You're insulting me!"
"Then tell me," Qin Chuan said, completely unmoved. "What did you do today? Who did you meet?"
The surrounding cyclones spiraled toward him, but the energy he released as a newly advanced Titled Douluo quickly dispersed them.
Though he had only just broken through into this realm, his strength was already formidable—shocking, even.
Bibi Dong's eyes faltered for just a moment.
"I… I met an old friend. Do I need to report every little thing I do to you?"
"Qin Chuan, listen carefully."
"Even though we're husband and wife, I'm still my own person. I have the right to personal freedom. No one—not even you—can take that from me!"
She spoke as if she were making a declaration to the world.
But Qin Chuan's voice cut through her defiance like a blade.
"Old friend? You mean your old lover."
"And from what I saw, I'd say you're far more passionate toward him than you've ever been toward me—your supposed husband."
"You're being ridiculous!" Bibi Dong snapped, though her eyes flickered with guilt.
"What old lover? Don't be so narrow-minded, Qin Chuan!"
"He's just a friend—someone I met while traveling the continent. We went through a lot together."
"What's so wrong with me treating him a little better?"
Qin Chuan didn't respond.
He just looked to the nearby table—at the teacup she had so eagerly drunk from.
It was white and glossy, beautifully crafted… but the red lipstick stain on the rim stood out like a fresh wound.
An ugly truth masked in elegance.
So jarring. So out of place.