Chapter 22: The Return to the Pope's Palace
The Pope had summoned Prince Xue Qinghe to the Pope's Palace to discuss the details of the finals.
When this news broke, a wave of tension swept through the ranks of the participating teams.
After all, Pope Bibi Dong had only recently sent people to raid them. Given her past actions, no one could be sure she wouldn't resort to new tricks.
"Your Highness, let us accompany you."
"I also want to ask her face-to-face why she did such a thing!" Flanders said, his voice hoarse from exhaustion.
These past few days had taken a toll on him. He looked haggard and older.
Meng Shenji and the other high-ranking members of the Royal Soul Master Academy also wore somber expressions.
Even Ning Fengzhi stepped forward and said seriously,
"Qinghe, you must be careful. If you like, let Uncle Jian accompany you. With him by your side, I doubt even the Pope would dare act rashly."
His demeanor was affectionate and warm, as though the tension from a few days ago had never existed.
Qian Renxue was quietly moved by this.
"Teacher, don't worry. I'll be fine."
She turned her gaze toward the young man in black standing not far away, and her lips curved into a gentle smile.
"With His Majesty Qin Chuan here, I'll definitely return safely."
Hearing this, Ning Fengzhi's expression grew complicated.
"That's good. His Majesty Qin Chuan is powerful. He can certainly bring you back unharmed."
He then turned to Qin Chuan and bowed slightly with sincere eyes.
"Fengzhi entrusts His Highness to you."
Qin Chuan nodded lightly in response.
And so, under the watchful eyes of many, Qin Chuan and Qian Renxue boarded a carriage bound for the Pope's Palace.
The wheels rolled along a bluestone-paved road, smooth and steady without the slightest bump.
Qin Chuan closed his eyes and rested quietly during the journey.
Only Qian Renxue occasionally lifted the curtain, gazing at the familiar streets of Wuhun City.
It's really been too long since I came back, she thought, sighing softly before lowering the curtain and turning her gaze back toward Qin Chuan.
What is Bibi Dong planning this time?
Before long, the carriage came to a halt outside the grand Pope's Palace.
Towering, solemn, and majestic—this was the power center not only of Wuhun City but of the entire soul master world.
Massive stone gates were hoisted by heavy iron chains, revealing the deep, chilling silence beyond—a place that radiated sacred mystery.
Rows of fully armored Templar Knights stood vigil like statues, their expressions cold and stern, exuding killing intent that extended all the way to the outer square.
This was the Pope's Palace.
And it was also the place Qian Renxue hadn't set foot in for over a decade.
She took a deep breath and stepped off the carriage, walking steadily toward the entrance.
Qin Chuan followed closely behind, silent as ever.
The last time he stood here was just days ago—during a heated confrontation with Bibi Dong.
He hadn't expected to return so soon.
"Great Elder, please stop!"
Just as Qin Chuan was about to step through the palace gates, two palace guards suddenly crossed their swords and halberds, blocking his path.
At the same time, a figure in a flamboyant red robe adorned with a bright flower on his chest walked out.
It was Chrysanthemum Douluo—Yue Guan.
Yue Guan looked at Qin Chuan with a complicated expression.
"Your Holiness has requested to meet only the Young Master. Please wait here, Elder."
"Heh…"
Qin Chuan sneered. His eyes flashed coldly, and he prepared to force his way in.
But just then, Qian Renxue turned around and smiled faintly.
"Brother Qin Chuan, wait for me here. I'll go see her myself."
She added, "Don't worry, I'll be fine."
Qian Renxue was no longer the naive and obedient girl she once was.
She was growing—becoming her own person.
Qin Chuan stared at her silently for a long moment before nodding.
"Alright. I'll wait here."
With that, he stood like a statue outside the Pope's Palace.
The sound of footsteps echoed through the vast, silent Pope's Palace, breaking the cold stillness within.
On the Pope's throne, a graceful yet haggard figure stirred. Leaning sideways, she had been dozing—her face weary, her eyes bloodshot.
Bibi Dong raised her head slowly.
The once noble and elegant Pope now wore the marks of sleepless nights.
Ever since her argument with Qin Chuan, she had suffered from insomnia.
But last night…
She finally slept—because she knew the carriages of the Tiandou Empire would arrive today.
She had a plan.
When Qin Chuan received the gift she sent, surely he would understand.
Surely… he would forgive her and return.
She imagined his reaction again and again.
When he sees what I've done for him… he'll come back. He has to.
She told herself that over and over—until she dozed off in a self-made illusion of comfort.
To ensure everything went well, she had even sent Yu Xiaogang's legs to Qin Chuan early that morning. She feared he wouldn't recognize them, so she stripped off Yu Xiaogang's blood-soaked clothes herself.
But… Qin Chuan hadn't come.
Still angry?
She wanted to rush out, to find him immediately.
But Ju Douluo, Yue Guan, had stopped her.
"Your Holiness," he said cautiously, "the Great Elder has boarded the Tiandou Empire's carriage. If he has plans of his own, your appearance may expose him and ruin everything."
Bibi Dong clutched her armrest tightly, nearly losing control.
This won't do! That won't do! Then what can I do?!
Was she supposed to just sit here and do nothing, knowing the man she longed for was only a short distance away?
Yue Guan then offered a solution.
"We can summon the Young Master here under the pretense of discussing the finals. The Great Elder will surely follow, concerned for the Young Master's safety."
That led to the current situation.
As Qian Renxue walked into the Pope's Palace, the soul guide lights lining the vast hall flickered to life one by one.
Each of her steps was like a command—the palace responding in kind.
With each stride, a light lit up, until the entire hall was bathed in brilliance.
And in that sacred light, a transformation took place.
Starting from her legs, the clothes of Prince Xue Qinghe dissolved into motes of ash and faded away.
In their place, golden light surged upward.
Everywhere the golden glow passed, her attire changed—layer by layer, until the disguise completely vanished.
When the light reached her face, her true self was fully revealed.
Her hair gleamed like molten gold, shimmering in the glow.
She now wore a flowing golden dress embroidered with sacred patterns. Her skin was snow-white, her features elegant and noble.
Between her brows, an angelic sigil shone like a divine imprint.
This was Qian Renxue.
Daughter of the Spirit Hall.
Warrior of the Heavens.
She stopped at the center of the palace, lifted her gaze to the Pope's throne—
—and her eyes, full of resolve, did not flinch.