While Yang Chang’an was talking with Fifth Uncle, the atmosphere within the Yang family had become oppressively tense.
Yang Wushuang sat upright in his chair, his expression calm, yet the hand gripping his teacup unconsciously tightened slightly.
He raised his eyes toward Yue Guan sitting across from him, his voice betraying neither joy nor anger: “You mean… His Holiness the Pope specifically named Chang’an to enter the Zihua Training Camp?” Yue Guan nodded gently.
The flirtatious demeanor he usually wore had long since disappeared, replaced by a rare seriousness.
He sighed softly, his tone carrying a trace of emotion: “That’s right.
Innate Level 9 Spirit Power—this kind of talent is rare even across the entire Spirit Hall.
Even the disciple personally accepted by Her Holiness the Pope isn’t much more talented than little Chang’an.” “On top of that, your Breaking Clan’s Soul Breaking Spear has always been famous for its ultimate offensive power.
It’s not strange at all that Her Holiness noticed him and wants to take him under her wing for training.” At this point, Yue Guan’s expression grew especially solemn, and he lowered his voice further: “You should seriously consider it.
Entering that place would bring him many benefits, especially for his future.” After hearing this, Yang Wushuang unconsciously revealed a bitter smile—one filled with helplessness and resignation.
“Consider it?
Brother Yue, do you think I, Yang Wushuang, still have the right to choose?” Who was Bibi Dong?
She was the current supreme ruler of Spirit Hall, unfathomably powerful and utterly decisive in both action and killing intent.
And what situation was the Yang family in now?
Their entire clan lived within Spirit City, surviving directly under her watchful eyes.
Their lives and futures were all in her hands.
Resist?
Like an ant trying to shake a tree—laughably overestimating oneself.
“Brother Yue, we’re both sensible people.
Since Her Holiness the Pope has already spoken, do you really think… I have the right to say no?” The moment those words left his mouth, the atmosphere in the room became even heavier.
But what Yang Wushuang never expected was that Yue Guan immediately shook his head.
Leaning slightly forward, his gaze deepened as he lowered his voice once more: “No.
You do.” “This time, you truly have a choice.
If you genuinely don’t want Chang’an to go—or if little Chang’an himself is unwilling—then you absolutely don’t have to send him.” Boom— Those words were like a thunderclap exploding directly in Yang Wushuang’s ears.
His entire body trembled.
His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at Yue Guan, his voice even shaking slightly: “Brother Yue, you…” A surge of warmth instantly welled up in Yang Wushuang’s heart, but before he could finish speaking, Yue Guan interrupted him directly.
“Don’t misunderstand, and don’t feel touched too early.
It’s not me protecting you.
I’m not brave enough to directly oppose Her Holiness the Pope.” Yue Guan waved his hand, an odd expression appearing on his face.
“It’s… someone else.” Someone else?
Yang Wushuang was completely stunned.
His brows furrowed tightly.
Within Spirit City, who else could possibly possess such influence?
Someone capable of changing—or even directly opposing—Bibi Dong’s will?
Seeing Yang Wushuang’s bewildered expression, Yue Guan stopped keeping him in suspense and slowly said: “Do you remember?
Around two and a half years ago, the situation of your Yang and Niu families in Spirit City suddenly improved quite a bit, didn’t it?” The moment this matter was mentioned, Yang Wushuang’s expression immediately changed, his eyes filling with confusion.
That period had been the hardest time for the Yang family.
Because of the Breaking Clan’s former allegiance, many factions within Spirit City looked down on them.
Openly and secretly, they excluded and harassed them.
Even with Yue Guan helping them from the sidelines, life was still extremely difficult.
But then, for some unknown reason, all those little schemes targeting the Yang family suddenly stopped.
The people who used to make things difficult for them everywhere abruptly became polite, as if some invisible hand had begun shielding them from the shadows.
Yang Wushuang subconsciously spoke: “At that time… wasn’t it you, Brother Yue, secretly helping us behind the scenes?” Hearing this, Yue Guan gently shook his head, his tone growing heavier.
“I only found out about this a year ago myself.
After learning about it, I secretly investigated a little.
And guess what I discovered?” Not Yue Guan?
Then who could it have been?
Why would someone help a small family like the Yangs, who had no backing to speak of?
Looking at Yang Wushuang’s grave expression, Yue Guan slowly uttered a name that caused Yang Wushuang’s entire body to tremble: “The order that protected your Yang and Niu families back then came directly from the Worship Hall.” The Worship Hall!
The moment those three words were spoken, the air in the room itself seemed to freeze.
Even for a well-informed Titled Douluo like Yue Guan, merely mentioning the Worship Hall caused an uncontrollable trace of deep apprehension to flash through his eyes.
What kind of place was that?
It was the most mysterious and transcendent power within the entire Spirit Hall—a place filled with old monsters who had secluded themselves for years, all peak Douluo-level experts.
They answered only to the Grand Worship Qian Daoliu.
Not even the Pope had the authority to directly command them.
And yet the Worship Hall had actually intervened to protect the Yang family?
Yang Wushuang felt his mind buzzing uncontrollably, utterly unable to understand.
“The Worship Hall… why would they help us?” Yue Guan spread his hands helplessly.
“That, I don’t know either.
But I do have a guess.” He paused, looking at Yang Wushuang with meaningful eyes.
“There’s an eighty or ninety percent chance this has something to do with your precious grandson.
Doesn’t that little fellow love running around everywhere?
Maybe while he was out playing, he accidentally met some important figure from the Worship Hall, who took a liking to him and secretly started backing your family.” Yang Wushuang fell silent.
He wanted to refute it, but after thinking carefully, he realized he had absolutely no basis to deny it.
“…That’s possible.” Only after a long while did Yang Wushuang slowly nod, tacitly accepting the speculation.
But that only made things even more troublesome.
Though he didn’t fully understand the extent of the conflict between the Worship Hall and the Pope’s faction, he could vaguely sense that the two sides were absolutely not united.
Secretly, they had always been competing against each other.
On one side was Pope Bibi Dong, personally naming Yang Chang’an for the Zihua Special Training Camp.
On the other side was the mysterious Worship Hall, secretly protecting the Yang family and clearly harboring plans for Yang Chang’an as well.
If Yang Chang’an truly became entangled in the struggle between these major powers, whether it would become a blessing or a disaster was impossible to say.
One wrong move, and he could be crushed into dust.
Yue Guan also knew this matter was far too significant, so he didn’t rush him.
He simply sat quietly to the side, giving Yang Wushuang enough time to think.
Yang Chang’an was the Yang and Niu families’ only hope—the entire future of both families rested on him.
If anything happened to Yang Chang’an, then the Yang and Niu families would forever lose any chance of rising again within Spirit City.
No one knew how much time had passed.
Even the candle flame had burned noticeably shorter before Yang Wushuang finally slowly raised his head.
Bloodshot veins filled his eyes, and his voice carried deep exhaustion.
“Please trouble Brother Yue to report back to Her Holiness the Pope for me.
I need some time to properly discuss this matter with my family before giving Her Holiness an answer.” Yue Guan wasn’t surprised in the slightest.
If it had been him, he wouldn’t have agreed immediately either.
If Yang Chang’an truly had ties to the Worship Hall, then no matter which side the Yang family chose, they would offend the other.
This was not a decision anyone could make lightly.
Yue Guan stood up and adjusted his robes.
“In that case, I’ll head back and report first.
Don’t rush yourself too much.
Think it over carefully.” At this point in time, Yue Guan was not yet the overly cautious, constantly fearful Chrysanthemum Douluo from the later parts of the original story.
At present, under Bibi Dong there were only two Titled Douluo directly serving her: himself and Ghost Douluo Gui Mei.
Furthermore, the two possessed an extremely powerful Martial Soul fusion skill, giving them very high status among the elders and considerable influence in their words.
Thus, toward Bibi Dong, what he felt was mostly respect and apprehension—not yet the bone-deep terror that would come later.
Yang Wushuang personally escorted Yue Guan to the door.
Only after watching Yue Guan’s figure disappear into the distant street did he turn around heavily and return to his room.
Closing the door behind him, he sat alone in his chair with his head lowered, lost in thought.
On one side was the Pope, who held the power of life and death.
On the other side was the unfathomably mysterious Worship Hall.
On one side was an explicit command.
On the other side was hidden protection from the shadows.
On one side was the bright future promised by the Zihua Special Training Camp.
On the other side was a vortex of struggle that could lead to utter destruction with one wrong step.
Yang Wushuang only felt as though his head were splitting in two, his thoughts tangled into complete chaos.
“Grandpa!
I’m back!” Just then, a childish voice suddenly rang out from outside the door.
The next second, the door burst open with a bang.
A fair and chubby little figure that looked especially lovable charged in energetically from outside—it was Yang Chang’an, who had just returned from the pavilion.
The moment Yang Chang’an entered, he saw his grandfather sitting there alone with an unpleasant expression.
He immediately froze for a moment, and the smile on his face faded slightly.