Douluo Continent: Twin Souls of the Underworld, Holding the Power of Life and Death

Wuhun City, side hall of the Papal Palace.

Qian Renxue, dressed in a white dress, stood in front of the tightly closed door, holding an exquisite sandalwood box in her arms.

for a long time.

She took a deep breath and raised her hand to knock on the door.

"Mother."

His voice was filled with anticipation.

There was no response from inside the door.

Qian Renxue bit her lip and tapped again.

"Mother, today is your birthday, I..."

"roll."

One word.

It was as cold as ice, as cold as a knife, like the frost she had encountered every time she approached it over the years.

"Mother, I just wanted to..."

Qian Renxue froze on the spot. She wanted to explain, but...

The door was suddenly pulled open.

Bibi Dong stood inside the door.

His gaze was fixed on Qian Renxue, as if he were looking at someone insignificant.

I said, get out.

Qian Renxue opened her mouth, but the box slipped from her arms and fell to the ground with a "thud".

The hairpin, which was originally in the box, fell to the ground and shattered into pieces.

"Mother……"

"Don't call me mother."

Bibi Dong finally raised her eyes.

Those eyes held no warmth, only boundless disgust.

"Your very existence is a mistake."

Qian Renxue's face suddenly turned pale.

She watched the door close again, and the last figure disappear through the crack in the door.

a long time.

She bent down and picked up the shards one by one, completely unaware that her fingertips were being cut.

Blood droplets fell onto the plain white skirt, like red plum blossoms blooming in the snow.

When Qian Anci found her, Qian Renxue was huddled in a corner behind the Papal Palace.

A few fragments lay scattered in front of him, occasionally flashing a faint light in the dim light.

She didn't cry out loud.

His shoulders were trembling slightly, like a cub abandoned by its mother, hiding in a corner licking its wounds.

Qian Anci sat down beside her without saying a word.

He took out a plain white handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over.

Qian Renxue did not answer.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was hoarse and nasal. "To laugh at me?"

"Hmm," Qian Anci responded, "Watching someone who's all talk and no action secretly hide away and cry."

"……roll."

"Fine, I'll get out."

Qian Anci stood up, as if to leave.

Qian Renxue suddenly looked up, her eyes glistening with tears.

"you!"

"Just kidding."

He sat down again and put the handkerchief into her hand.

Then, he bent down and picked up the pieces of debris from the ground one by one, gathering them in his palm.

"It's broken."

Qian An declined.

"I know it's broken!" Qian Renxue's voice was choked with sobs. "I spent three days choosing... and she didn't even look at it..."

"Then let's pick another one."

"She won't want it."

"Then keep picking until she wants it."

Qian Anci glanced at her, his eyes filled with a deep, unfathomable gray light: "Or, pick until you don't want any more."

Qian Renxue was stunned.

She looked at the shards in Qian Anci's palm.

Looking at those sharp edges that reflected the faint light, the grievances that had been buried in my heart suddenly erupted.

"You don't understand."

Qian Renxue turned her face away.

"She hates me. She's hated me since the day I was born."

"I know."

"What do you know!"

Qian Renxue suddenly turned her head, and tears finally welled up in her golden eyes.

"Do you know what it feels like to be hated by your own mother? Do you know what it feels like to be pushed away every time you get close? Do you know...?"

Her voice stopped abruptly.

Because Qian Anci reached out his hand.

That small, delicate hand gently covered the back of her hand.

Warm, steady, like a silent anchor.

"I know."

His voice was soft, yet it clearly cut through this dark corner.

"Six years ago, I woke up in the ruins of the Evil Soul Master. I had no memory, no name, no origin. I didn't know who I was, where I came from, or why I was lying in that pool of blood."

Qian Renxue stared at him blankly.

"Grandpa picked me up and took me home."

Qian Anci continued.

He named me and gave me a home.

"I have no roots. No past, no blood relatives."

He turned his head and met Qian Renxue's teary, golden eyes.

"But at least now I have you and my grandfather."

Qian Renxue's tears finally fell.

One drop, two drops, fell onto the plain white handkerchief, leaving dark stains.

She suddenly leaned forward, resting her forehead on Qian Anci's shoulder, and finally let out a suppressed sob.

It's like all the grievances that have been sealed away by pride over the years have finally found a way out.

Qian Anci did not move, letting Qian Renxue's tears soak his clothes.

He simply sat there, letting her tears soak his robes, letting the hand that gripped his sleeve tremble slightly.

"...An Ci."

"Um."

"Your shoulders are so stiff."

"Um."

"...Come with me next time I'm picking out a gift."

"it is good."

In the distance, the chimes of the Papal Palace rang out softly.

Qian Renxue gradually stopped crying, but still buried her face in his shoulder and refused to look up.

"Sister," Qian Anci suddenly spoke.

"……Um?"

"The blood is dripping onto my robe."

Qian Renxue was taken aback and looked down at her fingertips.

The cut I made while picking up the shards is now oozing blood.

She hurriedly tried to wipe it, but Qian Anci grabbed her wrist.

"Don't move."

He took out another handkerchief and clumsily but carefully bandaged her wound.

The handkerchief was quickly stained red, but he seemed oblivious.

Qian Renxue looked at his lowered eyes and suddenly felt a pang of sadness in her nose.

"Goodbye."

"Um?"

"Your bandage looks terrible."

"……Um."

Qian Renxue smiled through her tears, her eyes still filled with tears, but the corners of her lips curved upwards.

The smile was faint, like a sliver of light filtering through the gloom.

She suddenly reached out and gathered all the amethyst fragments from Qian Anci's palm into her own hand.

"I'll keep these."

"It's broken."

"I know it's broken." She carefully tucked the shards into her sleeve, her voice softening, "But this is one I chose over three days."

Qian Anci looked at her, his eyes filled with a deep gray light, and said nothing more.

The two sat side by side in that dark corner, gazing at the sky above, which was cut into thin strips by the buildings.

A bird flew by, leaving behind a string of clear chirps.

"Goodbye."

"Um."

"From now on..." Qian Renxue paused, a faint blush rising to the tips of her ears, "From now on, whenever I hide and cry, you must find me."

Qian Anci glanced at her sideways.

Qian Renxue turned her face away, her voice muffled: "...Don't be late."

"it is good."

Time flies like an arrow.

Three years have passed in the blink of an eye.

During these three years, Qian Anci's life was filled with cultivation and actual combat.

Every morning, he would meditate in the Holy Son's Palace, drawing upon the death energy of the underworld to temper his meridians.

In the afternoon, he sparred with the twelve inspectors in turn on the training ground, from Crow Nine to Crow One, from Soul Emperor to Soul Douluo, he fought almost all of them.

He absorbed all the dark-attribute resources that Qian Daoliu had found for him.

The aura of death that ordinary people would avoid at all costs nourished his martial soul like sweet rain within his body.

Qian Renxue often came to see him.