The muffled thud-thud-thud inside the Supreme Pontiff Palace continued from midnight all the way until dawn.
Only when the first ray of morning sunlight pierced through the crystal windows and brushed across Bibi Dong's face… did she finally stop.
Yu Xiaogang was already beaten into a state that would require heavy pixelation to display safely.
His limbs twisted at unnatural angles, his breath was so faint it seemed he'd stop at any moment, and his entire body looked like it had been chewed up and spit out by some ancient beast.
Bibi Dong was panting, chest heaving, her smooth forehead dotted with fine sweat from a full night of "physical labor."
But her beautiful face still carried the cold, unextinguished killing intent of someone who absolutely wasn't done yet.
She lowered her gaze.
The Seraphim scepter in her hand—symbol of the supreme authority of the Angel Clan—had three wings broken off the carved angel.
The perfectly straight staff was now bent at nearly ninety degrees.
Something with suspiciously red and white coloration clung to it.
Just as she contemplated whether she should change locations or find another weapon to continue…
That ray of morning light made her freeze.
Morning… already?
The string in her heart labeled "anger" snapped instantly.
A new, far stronger string labeled "food" tightened in its place.
Today is the second day.
She can eat again.
Thinking of this, Bibi Dong didn't even bother to change out of her bloodstained, dust-covered pontiff's robe—there was even a long tear from where she had swung too hard last night.
She turned and rushed out of the palace.
As she passed the guards, she casually tossed out an instruction:
"Watch that good-for-nothing inside. Don't let him die."
Before the guards could even reply, she had already turned into a purple streak and disappeared down the steps.
However—
Just as she approached the familiar stairway, a sturdy arm suddenly blocked her path.
Bibi Dong stopped.
Her amethyst eyes slowly lifted.
Qian Daoliu.
He stood there like an immovable mountain, expression flat, not a trace of yesterday's frustration remaining—as if the fight with Qian Renxue and yesterday's clash with Bibi Dong had never happened.
At this moment… he was simply the security guard.
"Your Holiness," Qian Daoliu said calmly.
"The senior hasn't opened the shop yet. You're early."
Bibi Dong's pupils tightened.
Her gaze drifted past him, through the large glass doors of Feng Ran Pavilion.
Inside, at the dining table she knew so well, Lin Feng leaned back casually, eating breakfast.
Hu Liena and the Zhu sisters sat beside him, smiling sweetly as they served him dishes.
The four of them chatted, laughed, and enjoyed a warm, simple breakfast together.
They were laughing with the senior.
Eating with the senior.
Sharing warmth with the senior.
Bibi Dong's expression collapsed instantly.
A wave of sourness, loss, and stabbing resentment surged up in her heart.
She remembered it with painful clarity—
Her three-meals-a-day monthly pass had been revoked.
She was no longer the only VIP who could sit at that table whenever she wished.
She swallowed, her lips dry.
"…I'll wait."
She stepped aside quietly, like a stray wandering outside a brightly lit home, watching warmth through the window but unable to join.
Qian Daoliu nodded lightly—then froze.
His gaze snapped to something in Bibi Dong's hand.
His expression—always as rigid as granite—cracked.
His pupils shrank.
He almost forgot to breathe.
He pointed, trembling violently.
"You… that… is that…?!"
Bibi Dong, lost in her sorrow, didn't notice his reaction.
She lowered her head, casually looking at the weapon she had swung all night.
Oh.
The pontiff's scepter.
Right.
She forgot to put it back.
Without thinking, she handed the deformed scepter directly to Qian Daoliu.
"The heirloom scepter of your Angel Clan. Here."
Just then—
Ding-a-ling~
The glass doors of the shop slid open.
Lin Feng and the others had finished breakfast.
The smell drifted out like a divine blessing.
Bibi Dong's dim expression instantly brightened.
She hurried inside without hesitation.
Outside.
Qian Daoliu was left standing alone, holding the half-destroyed scepter.
His body shook uncontrollably.
He slowly lowered his eyes.
The intricate carvings were shattered.
Jewels were missing.
Half-dried blood and mysterious white goo coated several parts.
He tried to lift the Seraph statue atop the staff—
Crack!
A sharp, heart-piercing sound.
The upper half of the angel statue broke cleanly off and fell to the ground with a dull clank.
Qian Daoliu: "…"
The world turned grayscale.
He stared at the broken statue on the ground.
Then at the warped scepter in his hand.
Then at Bibi Dong's silhouette through the window—already seated, waiting to order breakfast.
A massive rush of blood surged to his head.
His vision darkened.
He nearly passed out on the spot.
He hurriedly pinched his philtrum, inhaling sharply—
Not here.
Not in front of the senior's shop.
He must not be remembered in history as the first Rank 99 Peerless Douluo to die from anger.
But just as he steadied himself—
Whoooosh—!!!
Over a dozen explosive sonic booms ripped through the sky!
A dozen figures plummeted, like meteorites, into the plaza!
Leading them were—
Gold Crocodile Douluo and Ghost Douluo!
BOOM—!!!
They slammed into the ground with enough force to shake the entire street.
A cloud of dust exploded outward.
Qian Daoliu sucked in the dust—
"Cough—! Cough! Cough—!"
He almost cursed aloud—
Who dared cause trouble here at the senior's door?!
But then—
He saw who they were carrying.
Ghost Douluo held a man whose aura was faint… almost gone.
It was Chrysanthemum Douluo—Yue Guan.
Qian Daoliu's face changed instantly.
He understood at once.
Ghost Douluo stumbled forward through the dust and rushed into the restaurant.
The moment he saw Lin Feng—
He collapsed to his knees with a heavy thud!
Tears streamed from his eyes.
"Senior… please…"
Lin Feng stared at him blankly.
The teacup in his hand froze mid-air.
…No way.
No way…
More than a dozen Titled Douluo went out to dig up a potted plant.
And somehow…
One of them got killed by the bonsai?!