The morning sun, a pale, watery disc, struggled to pierce the high, imposing windows of the palatial hotel suite. Inside, however, the atmosphere was anything but cold.
A large, low table in the center of the room was a tapestry of exotic fruits: vibrant red Sun-Kissed Berries, deep purple Shadow Grapes, and slices of pale, luminescent Moon Melon. The air was thick with their sweet, intoxicating scent, and the soft, breathless giggles of two women.
Zhang Tian was lounging on a mountain of silk cushions, a king in his court. He was flanked by his two fiancées, a vision of dark and light.
Ning Rongrong was on his right, her silk robe, the color of a dawn sky, having slipped from one shoulder. She held a single Shadow Grape between her lips. "Husband," she murmured, her voice a playful purr. "I'm so tired. I can't lift my arms. If you want this grape, you'll have to... come and get it."
Zhu Zhuqing, on his left, just scoffed, her own dark, silken robe barely clinging to her magnificent form. "So lazy, Rongrong." She picked up a large, red Sun-Kissed Berry. But instead of offering it to him, she tucked it deep into the valley of her magnificent, heavy breasts. "A true warrior," she whispered, her voice a low, husky challenge as she leaned over him, "is not afraid to hunt for his prize."
Zhang Tian just chuckled, a low, appreciative sound. He looked at Ning Rongrong's pouty, inviting lips. He looked at the perfect, red berry nestled in the pale, soft crevice of Zhu Zhuqing's cleavage.
"Decisions, decisions," he murmured. He leaned towards Ning Rongrong first, his hands finding her waist. He didn't take the grape. He kissed her, deeply, his tongue tracing the sweet, fruity flavor from her lips. "A fine appetizer," he growled against her mouth.
"Hey! That's not fair!" she giggled as he pulled away.
He then turned to Zhu Zhuqing. "And now," he purred, "for the main course."
He leaned in, his face sinking into the warm, soft, and impossibly deep valley of her breasts. He didn't just go for the berry. His lips, his tongue, his teeth, began to feast on her.
"Ah... Husband..." she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair, her back arching. He bit her, a sharp, playful nip on the soft, upper swell of her breast.
"You... you missed the berry..." she breathed.
"Did I?" he murmured, his voice muffled. "I suppose I'll have to... keep looking for it."
His mouth moved lower, his tongue tracing the line of her bra, his lips closing over a hardened, straining nipple.
It was at that exact moment of blissful, domestic decadence that a sharp, firm knock echoed at their door.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
The sound was an intrusion, a cold, hard note of reality in their warm, playful bubble.
Zhang Tian let out a low, frustrated growl against Zhu Zhuqing's skin. "Who dares?"
"Husband, get up!" Ning Rongrong yelped, scrambling to pull her robe shut. "Someone's at the door!"
Zhu Zhuqing, her face flushed a beautiful, crimson red, gently but firmly pushed him off her. "Go away," she called out, her voice a little breathless, but cold as ice. "We are... busy."
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
The sound came again, just as firm, just as insistent.
Zhang Tian sighed. He sat up, his own silk robe falling open, his expression one of pure, unadulterated annoyance. "Oh, for... fine! Come in!" he shouted.
The door opened.
A woman entered. She was not a hotel servant. She wore the formal, silver-and-purple robes of a Spirit Hall Elder, the intricate, six-winged angel crest embroidered on her chest. She had short, sharp purple hair that framed a face that was severe, but undeniably beautiful. Her dark, piercing eyes were as sharp as a hawk's.
And her aura... it was a Titled Douluo. Controlled, yes, but the power beneath was a coiled, sleeping serpent.
She had clearly expected to find the captain of the Emperor Team. She had not expected to walk in on a scene of such decadent, intimate... disarray.
She stopped, her professional, icy composure cracking for a fraction of a second. Her gaze went from Ning Rongrong, who was blushing furiously and trying to tie her robe, to Zhu Zhuqing, who was defiantly, and very slowly, readjusting her own top, her magnificent cleavage on full, unapologetic display.
And then, her gaze landed on Zhang Tian.
She saw a man whose robes were half-open, his chest and abs a perfect, sculpted landscape. She saw his strange, two-toned hair, his handsome, aristocratic face, and his blue eyes, which were not filled with shame or surprise, but with a cold, assessing, and almost... hungry light.
Zhang Tian's own gaze was just as analytical. He saw a Titled Douluo. A powerful woman. But he also saw... a woman. A beautiful one. Her formal robes, though designed to be imposing, could not hide the slender, elegant line of her waist, or the proud, full swell of her breasts. Her legs, visible beneath the split in her robes as she had stepped into the room, were long and athletic.
He let his gaze roam, a slow, deliberate, and blatantly appreciative sweep from her sharp, purple hair, down her beautiful, severe face, lingering for a moment on her lips, then moving down, over her breasts, her waist, her hips, and all the way down to her feet. He was not just looking at her. He was inspecting her. Like a buyer at a high-end slave market assessing the quality of the merchandise.
The woman, Elder Ling Yuan, felt his gaze. It was a physical, tangible thing. It was disrespectful. It was arrogant. It was... and this was the strangest, most confusing part... not entirely unpleasant. She had never been looked at like that. Not by a man, and certainly not by a boy who was half her age. But this boy... he was, she had to admit, the most handsome man she had ever seen. His power, his arrogance, it was a palpable, magnetic force.
She forced her professionalism to return, though a faint, unbidden flush colored her cheeks.
"Mister Zhang Tian," she said, her voice as crisp and clean as a high wind, though it was a fraction of a second too late to be truly composed. "I am Elder Ling Yuan, the Spirit Kite Douluo. I come on behalf of the Supreme Pontiff."
The name "Supreme Pontiff" was a bucket of ice water.
Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing, who had been glaring at the intruder with a mixture of annoyance and jealousy, froze. Their playful, seductive mood vanished, replaced by a cold, wary tension. The air in the room, which had been warm and thick with their perfume, suddenly turned sharp and cold.
Elder Ling Yuan's gaze was analytical, her own composure now perfectly restored. She swept her eyes over Zhang Tian, her cold curiosity now firmly in place. "His Holiness, the Supreme Pontiff Bibi Dong, has heard of your remarkable performance in the Heaven Dou qualifiers. She requests your presence for a private audience. This evening."
She paused, her dark eyes as sharp as obsidian shards. "She has requested that you come... alone."
Zhang Tian, who had been listening with a polite, almost bored, expression, did not react. He simply reached for a nearby teacup, which Ah Yin had, at some point, refilled for him. He took a slow, deliberate sip.
'Bibi Dong. Finally,' he thought, a slow, predatory smile touching his lips, a smile that was hidden from the Elder by his teacup. 'The true dragon in this den wants to meet the new, smaller dragon that has just entered her territory.'
He placed the cup down with a soft, delicate click.
"An invitation from the Supreme Pontiff is a great honor," he said, his voice as smooth and as polite as a courtier's. "Please inform Her Holiness that I will be there this evening. I look forward to it."
Elder Ling Yuan nodded once, her mission complete. "His Holiness will be expecting you."
She turned to leave. And Zhang Tian, his gaze now fixed on the subtle, powerful sway of her hips as she walked away, just smiled.
The Elder paused at the door, her back still to him. "And, Mister Zhang Tian," she said, her voice a low, cold warning, "I would advise... a more... formal attire for your audience with Her Holiness."
She left, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving a heavy, profound tension in the room.
The moment the door clicked shut, Ning Rongrong was on her feet, her playful, relaxed mood completely gone.
"Alone?!" she shrieked, her voice a high, worried sound that was dangerously close to a panic. "She wants to see you alone? Husband, you can't! You can't go!"
She rushed over to him, grabbing his arm. "That's Bibi Dong! The head of the entire Spirit Hall! The most powerful, most dangerous woman in the world! What if it's a trap? What if she tries to hurt you? Or... or force you to join them? Or... or make you one of her... her... pets?!"
Zhu Zhuqing was also frowning, her dark eyes filled with a cold, analytical suspicion. She came to his other side, her hand resting on his arm. "Rongrong is right," she said, her voice a low, steady murmur that did not quite hide the fear beneath it. "It is too risky. She is the most powerful woman in the world. To go to her, in her own palace, alone... it is walking into a beast's lair. A spider's web."
"My father has always said that the Supreme Pontiff is… not a stable person," Ning Rongrong added, her fear mounting, her grip on his arm tightening. "He said she's ruthless. He said her power is terrifying. He said she is a woman who would kill a thousand people just to prove a point. You can't go! I won't let you!"
Zhang Tian just chuckled, a low, warm sound. He pulled both of them into a tight, reassuring hug, his arms a cage of iron around their trembling bodies. "Relax, my loves," he said, kissing Rongrong's forehead, and then Zhuqing's. "Do you truly have so little faith in me?"
"It's not about faith, husband!" Rongrong protested, her voice muffled against his chest. "It's about... about her! She's... she's a monster!"
"She is the Supreme Pontiff, yes," he said, his voice a calm, soothing sound. "But she is also a politician. A very, very smart one. And she is not a fool. To harm me? The fiancé of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect's heir? The man who is the personal guest of the Emperor? In her own palace, on the eve of the tournament finals?"
He shook his head. "It would be a declaration of war against your father and the Heaven Dou Empire. It would be a scandal that would shatter the Spirit Hall's reputation. She is far too intelligent for such a crude, messy move."
"Then... then what does she want?" Zhu Zhuqing asked, her voice still a low, worried sound.
"She's curious," he replied, his mind already calculating the angles. "This isn't an execution. It's an... interview. An assessment. She wants to see the 'monster of Heaven Dou' for herself. She wants to measure me. She wants to see if I am a tool she can use, or a threat she must, eventually, eliminate."
Zhu Zhuqing was still not convinced. She pulled back, her dark eyes searching his. 'He's a Spirit King. A powerful one, yes. But she is... a peak Douluo. A being on the verge of godhood. The gap... it is as wide as the sky. What if she doesn't care about politics? What if she just... decides he is too dangerous to be allowed to live?'
Zhang Tian saw the lingering fear in her eyes. And he smiled, a small, cunning expression.
"Besides," he added, his voice a low, conspiratorial whisper. "Who said I was going alone?"
Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing looked at him, their expressions a mixture of confusion and a dawning, brilliant hope.
"But... but that woman, that Spirit Kite Douluo... she said alone!" Rongrong said.
"She did," Zhang Tian agreed, his smile widening. "But I think... I'll bring a chaperone. One that she cannot possibly refuse."
"Who?" Ning Rongrong asked, her mind racing. "Grandpa Sword? Or Grandpa Bone? Yes! We should bring them! They can hide and protect you! They're Super Douluos! Even Bibi Dong would have to think twice before trying to hurt you in front of them!"
Zhang Tian just shook his head, a fond, almost pitying look on his face. "No, my love. Bringing them would be an open sign of disrespect. It would be an insult. It would be like bringing an army to a dinner party. No, I have someone... better in mind. Someone who has a right to be there."
He looked at them, his blue eyes gleaming with a light that was both beautiful, and incredibly, wonderfully, and almost religiously profound dangerous.
"I'm going to bring Qian Renxue."
"Her?!" The two women gasped in unison.
"But… why?" Zhu Zhuqing asked, her brow furrowed. "What could she do? She's… she's his daughter, yes. But… they hate each other!"
"Exactly," Zhang Tian said simply. "She is the Supreme Pontiff's daughter. And this, my loves, is the true test. I am not just going there to be 'measured'. I am going there to test the waters. To see how Bibi Dong reacts to her own child, to the daughter she has not seen, as herself, in over a decade."
He gently stroked Zhu Zhuqing's hair, his expression turning serious. "I made a promise to Renxue, a long time ago. That I would help her. That I would find a way to… reconcile her with her mother."
He looked at them, and his eyes were filled with a strange, almost sad, light. "This," he said, his voice a quiet, somber sound, "is the first step. I need to see the wound, before I can even begin to think of a way to heal it."
A heavy, thoughtful silence settled over the room. Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing exchanged a look. Their initial, possessive jealousy of Qian Renxue had, over the past year of shared secrets, of shared victories, of shared… him… softened. It had not disappeared, no. But it had been… complicated. Tempered by a new, grudging, and almost sisterly acceptance. They knew her story. They knew her pain.
Zhu Zhuqing was the first to nod. Her voice was a low, analytical sound. "It is a dangerous move. You will be walking into a warzone, a battle between two of the most powerful, and most broken, women in the world. But… I understand. It is the only way you will learn the truth about their relationship. It is… a necessary risk."
Ning Rongrong let out a long, slow sigh. She snuggled closer to him, her head resting on his chest, her heart beating a fast, worried rhythm. "I still don't like it. It's risky. It's like… like prodding a sleeping dragon with a stick. A very, very angry, very, very powerful, and very, very crazy sleeping dragon."
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading. "Just… be careful, husband. Please. Promise me you will be careful."
He kissed the top of her head. "I will be," he promised. "I am not a fool. I know what I am walking into."
He gave them both a final, reassuring squeeze. "Now, I will go and inform Qian Renxue. But… that is a task for later this afternoon."
His smile returned, a slow, predatory, and wonderfully, joyously lecherous expression. "We have an entire day to ourselves before my big meeting. And we have a half-eaten breakfast, and a very comfortable bed, that is being sorely neglected."
His gaze swept over them, at their beautiful, flushed faces, at their silk-clad, magnificent bodies.
"I think," he purred, his voice a low, rumbling sound of pure, unadulterated lust, "we should make the most of it, don't you?"
~~
A/N: Check out my BTTH Fanfic [Doupo: Plundering the Plot with God-Tier Comprehension].
Also, check out 20 Chapters Ahead for this fanfic on my P.atreon.
Patreon link: https://www.patreon.com/c/evildragon04