150 Chapters of this book are available on my p@tr3on and 900 chapters of 2 Full Douluo Books are available.
Huo Yuhao pushed open the window and looked out, discovering that rain had begun to fall.
Ye Guyi gazed out the window, her voice as light as mist scattered by the rain.
Though the rain was loud, Huo Yuhao could hear her breathing with unusual clarity.
“She was my sister,” Ye Guyi said, her voice calmer than expected.
“Though not by blood.”
When she was three years old, Ye Guyi had been cornered by three older children in an abandoned church.
They pelted her with stones, calling her a “bastard of the Spirit Hall.” She huddled in the corner, covering her head, until a golden-haired figure charged over.
“Get lost!” Yu Mengdi, only a few years older than her, spread two ethereal white wings.
Though she had only just awakened her martial soul, that light was enough to scare off the bullies.
She crouched down and wiped the mud from Ye Guyi’s face.
“Don’t be afraid.
I’ll protect you.”
At this point, Ye Guyi’s vision blurred.
“She would always go with me to the woods to catch butterflies—there was a little freedom there.” Ye Guyi continued, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.
“Our childhood was spent in that dark, abandoned church.
She said that when we grew up, we’d leave that place together, go somewhere where no one knew us.”
Huo Yuhao nodded gently, not interrupting.
The rain outside filled the brief silence.
On her tenth birthday, Ye Guyi found Yu Mengdi sitting on the wing of the broken angel statue atop the church dome, crying.
The setting sun stretched her shadow long, like a bird with broken wings.
“I’m going to marry that cripple from the Le family.” Yu Mengdi shoved a butterfly she had been holding into Ye Guyi’s hands.
The butterfly’s wings seemed dampened by her tears, its flight weakened.
“They say this way our family can wash away the stain.
As if we exist just to prove to them that we’re not the source of evil.”
Ye Guyi released the butterfly, letting it dance between heaven and earth.
But Yu Mengdi’s nails dug into her palms, blood beading out and dripping onto the broken angel statue’s wings.
“I can’t escape.” Yu Mengdi’s final words to her that day were, “But at least I’ll make them know—I don’t need an arranged marriage to prove anything.”
Ye Guyi recalled that three months ago, when she had returned home for a break, Yu Mengdi had knocked on her window in the middle of the night, her eyes startlingly bright.
“I’m going to compete in the tournament.” Yu Mengdi’s backpack was bulging, stuffed with a few old clothes and a comb.
“If I can make it to the finals, the family will have no choice but to value me.”
In Ye Guyi’s memory, her neighbor sister’s silver-bell voice had sounded a bit sharp that time: “They said if I win the tournament, they’ll make me the heir—then I won’t have to get married!”
Ye Guyi had pressed half the gold soul coins she had saved from working at the Mingyue Hotel over the years into her hands.
Yu Mengdi laughed, took off the little angel pendant from her neck, and put it around Ye Guyi’s.
“Wait for me to come back.”
That little angel pendant now lay against Ye Guyi’s skin—and she only felt its coldness.
That afternoon, after returning from purchasing a batch of alloys as Huo Yuhao had instructed, Ye Guyi heard that a homicide had occurred at the Mingyue Hotel.
The victim was an injured student from Zhengtian Academy who had been resting there.
Trembling, Ye Guyi lifted the white cloth—and saw Yu Mengdi’s golden hair matted with blood, her mouth frozen in a final expression of shock.
The wound piercing through her chest was like a mocking mouth.
“On the day the Le family came to propose, Sister Mengdi stole my stash of candied fruit.” Ye Guyi suddenly laughed.
A vivid crack split her porcelain-white face.
“Her cheeks were puffed out like a hamster’s, and she ran shouting ‘Xiaoyi, come catch me!’—but that day she was wearing her engagement gown, its hem studded with diamonds—a gown only nobles were entitled to wear.”
The rain outside grew more torrential.
“When she returned the candied fruit to me…” Ye Guyi’s throat moved.
“There were a few extra figs inside.
She said, ‘These are your favorites.
When I come back from the tournament, I’ll take you to Qiming City for a feast—the fig pastries there are especially delicious.'”
When thunder rolled across the sky, she finally sobbed out loud.
Huo Yuhao handed her a handkerchief.
Ye Guyi didn’t take it.
She clutched the little angel pendant with both hands, and the rain blowing in from outside mingled with her tears, falling upon that pendant.
“You know what?” Ye Guyi said softly.
“She hated rainy days the most.”
“Qian Yuhan…
people on the Douluo Continent all say this was the name of the first Angel God, our ancestor.” Her fingertips unconsciously traced the feathered patterns embroidered on her sleeve cuff.
“That Angel God who first unleashed a plague and then pretended to save the world.” The rain streamed down the glass like tear tracks.
“They say this is our original sin.”
“They say the wings of the hypocritical Angel are as cold as rain and snow—unlike the gentle eight wings of the righteous Sea God.”
Huo Yuhao closed the window.
“Miss Guyi, go ahead and do what you need to do.”
“No matter what happens, I will stand behind you.”
“Evil soul masters, the Holy Spirit Church—what of them?
No matter what stands behind them, I, Huo Yuhao, will uproot them all in this lifetime.”
Huo Yuhao began tidying the room.
That night, he said no more.
After a night had passed, when a faint light emerged in the eastern sky, turning it the color of a fish’s belly, Huo Yuhao was already awake.
The rain had fallen all night, finally stopping.
By then, Ye Guyi and Snow Lady were still asleep—they hadn’t risen as early as usual.
Huo Yuhao went downstairs to buy breakfast.
“Snow Lady, today is your match against Chen Zifeng.
Be careful in all things—he is a six-ring Soul Emperor, a level above you.” Returning with the food, Huo Yuhao handed the meal boxes to Snow Lady and Ye Guyi, then said this to Snow Lady.
Snow Lady looked at the solemn-faced young man, then at Ye Guyi, who was eating with her head down, and placed her hands on her hips.
“That Chen Zifeng is the strongest member of the Shrek team, right?
This lady would like to see what he’s made of.”
“Don’t be careless.
I’ll go with you!” Huo Yuhao glanced at Ye Guyi and said, “Sister Guyi, wait for me before you act.
After all, we’re partners!”
In his previous life, as a representative of devotion to Shrek Academy, Huo Yuhao knew best how extraordinary it was for a commoner-born soul master like Chen Zifeng to become one of Shrek’s Seven Monsters.
Unlike those divine descendants who relied on their fathers, people like Chen Zifeng and he, Huo Yuhao, were of the same kind.
For such people to become one of the Seven Monsters of an era in Shrek Academy’s extremely harsh environment was itself a testament to the resilience of life and will.
At the Mingdu Arena, the atmosphere that day was still lively.
Especially after the successive setbacks of the Shrek Academy’s divine descendants in recent days, the people of the Sun Moon Empire were inspired.
“This tournament is different from all the previous ones.
Have you heard?
Those descendants of gods have actually lost consecutively to a young man.
Truly unbelievable.”
“Yes, those divine descendants have the blood of gods—how could they be defeated by mortals?”
Sitting in the Sun Moon Empire’s spectator section, listening to the murmurs around him, Huo Yuhao felt a complex mix of emotions.