Douluo Continent: The Twin Holy Dragons of Light and Darkness, the Dragon Emperor Breaks Through the

He couldn't stop his eyes from looking at her, his ears from listening to news about her, or his heart from thinking about her.

Every night, her image would appear before his eyes, so clear, so close, as if he could reach out and touch it, but in reality, she was far away.

During that time, he wrote a lot for her; the words in those papers were all filled with his feelings for her.

No one could see it except him; he knew that every word was written for her and every theory was spoken to her.

She was his sole motivation for writing, and the only reason he lived.

Later, he heard that something had happened to her.

No one knows exactly what happened. Some say it was a betrayal, some say she was framed, some say she died, and some say she is still alive but has been imprisoned.

Chapter 182 Regret

The news was a jumbled mess, with the truth hard to discern, but one thing was certain—the Spirit Hall no longer mentioned her name, and all information about her was blocked.

From then on, the name Bibi Dong became a taboo, a taboo that could only be secretly uttered in the dead of night.

He cried, got drunk, and tried to forget, but all to no avail.

Now, he has heard news of her again.

Those who talked loudly in restaurants and teahouses would occasionally lower their voices and mention a name in an almost whispered tone—Bibi Dong.

She is a taboo subject of the Spirit Hall; no one can mention her, or it will be a capital offense.

She was said to have been imprisoned for more than ten years. Although she was recently released, she is still under close surveillance and is not allowed to have contact with the outside world.

They say she was once the Holy Maiden of the Spirit Hall, then became a sinner, and after that... no one dares to say anything more.

Yu Xiaogang was drinking when she heard the news.

He put down his wine glass and remained silent for a long time.

The wine jar in his hand was still held in mid-air, and the wine dripped down the mouth of the jar, drop by drop, onto the table, staining the words on a manuscript into a blotchy ink stain.

He sat there stiffly, as if struck by lightning, staring straight ahead at the mottled, moldy wall.

Bibi Dong.

He had called out this name a million times in his heart, but when he heard it from someone else's mouth, he still felt dizzy and heartbroken.

She came out.

He was imprisoned for more than 20 years and has finally been released.

But they were also being monitored and forbidden from contacting the outside world.

How is she doing?

Is she getting old?

Does she hate this world?

Did she ever—even for a moment—think of that down-on-his-luck boy who secretly watched her from the entrance of the Spirit Hall?

Teacher Liu returned sometime ago.

He didn't go inside, but stood at the door, watching Yu Xiaogang from afar, not daring to approach or leave.

He was holding a bowl of rice with a few bites of vegetables on it; it was the cafeteria's dinner.

Seeing Yu Xiaogang's distraught appearance, he hesitated for a long time before cautiously speaking.

"Mr. Yu, you...you haven't eaten yet, have you?"

His voice was soft, as if he were testing a wounded wild animal, "I got you some food from the cafeteria, would you like to..."

"lay down."

Yu Xiaogang's voice was squeezed out from deep in her throat, dry and tired, like a piece of parched land.

Teacher Liu felt as if she had been granted a pardon. She quickly placed the bowl of rice inside the threshold and then took two quick steps back.

"Then you should get some rest. I... I'll be going now."

He took a few steps, then stopped, looked back, and seemed to want to say something, but in the end he said nothing and turned to disappear into the twilight.

Dinner got cold on the doorstep.

Flies, drawn by the smell, flew over, landed on the rim of the bowl, rubbed their front legs, and greedily sucked up the soup.

A stray cat appeared out of nowhere and squatted by the wall. Its green eyes were fixed on the bowl of rice. It then glanced warily at Yu Xiaogang in the house. Seeing that he didn't move, it tentatively took a few steps forward, stretched its neck, picked up a piece of rice with its tongue, quickly pulled it back, chewed it a couple of times, and then stretched its neck again.

Yu Xiaogang neither chased it away nor ate.

He just sat there, like a piece of dead wood in the gradually dimming light.

Night fell.

There was no moon, and the stars in the sky were sparse, like a few grains of rice accidentally sprinkled on a black velvet cloth.

Occasionally, a few barks could be heard from the street in the distance. They would bark for a while, stop for a while, and then bark again, as if they were arguing with someone.

The frogs in the stinking ditch started croaking, their loud, unpleasant calls sounding like someone repeatedly banging on a broken drum.

Yu Xiaogang slid off the stool and sat on the ground.

The ground was cool, and dampness seeped from the cracks in the bricks, but he didn't feel cold.

He leaned against the table leg, holding the last wine jar in his arms like a drowning man clutching his last piece of driftwood.

There was still half a jar of wine left. He would take a sip, rest for a while, and then take another sip.

By the end, he could no longer distinguish east from west, day from night, or reality from dreams.

In his hazy state, he seemed to hear a voice, very soft, as if it were calling him from a very, very far away place.

The voice was as gentle as a mother's caress, as fragile as a spider's web in the wind, delicate and soft, carrying a power he could never resist in his lifetime.

"Little anus... little anus..."

Who is calling him?

Is it Bibi Dong?

Or was it a voice he imagined?

He didn't know, nor did he want to know.

He closed his eyes, letting the voice envelop him, like a fallen leaf carried by the current, drifting towards an unknown destination.

That night, he had a dream.

In his dream, he stood on a pile of ruins, with broken stone slabs and a broken flagpole beneath his feet, and collapsed walls and charred beams beside him.

There was no sun or moon in the sky, only a hazy gray light, as if someone had covered the entire sky with a veil.

At the end of the ruins stood a man, dressed in a blue robe, his back to him. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a straight back, like a sword drawn from its sheath.

He wanted to walk over and see the person's face, but his legs felt like lead, and he couldn't move an inch.

He opened his mouth to shout, but the sound got stuck in his throat and he couldn't make it out.

The person stood there for a while, then suddenly turned around.

It was the face of an old man, full of wrinkles, with white hair and beard, and deep-set eyes, but his eyes shone like two lamps.

Those eyes looked at him, without anger or sadness, only something indescribable, heavy.

It was like regret, like relief, and also like something almost gentle that he had never seen on this person's face before.

The person opened their mouth and said two words.

The wind was too strong, and he couldn't hear clearly.

He wanted to hear it again, but the person had already turned around and slowly walked into the depths of the ruins, getting farther and farther away, becoming more and more indistinct, and finally dissipating like a wisp of smoke into the hazy light.

Yu Xiaogang woke up with a start, covered in sweat.

He was panting heavily, like a fish thrown ashore.

The room was pitch black; you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.

The stench from the ditch lingered, the frogs were still croaking, and dogs were still barking in the distance.

Everything was the same as before I went to sleep, yet it felt like nothing was different.

He reached out and touched the ground beside him, feeling the broken porcelain shards of the wine jar. The sharp pieces pierced his fingertips, drawing blood.

He held the porcelain shard tightly in his hand, letting the sharp edge dig deeper into his flesh, using the pain to confirm that he was still alive, to confirm that the dream he had just had was a dream, and to confirm that reality was still reality.

He remembered the person in his dream, the one who uttered two words and was then swallowed by the wind.

These two words seemed to be branded into his mind, and he couldn't shake them off no matter what he did.

He thought about it for a long time and finally figured out what those two words meant.

Chapter 183 Going to the Spirit Hall

"go home."

That person said "go home".

Yu Xiaogang sat in the darkness and suddenly burst into tears.

It wasn't the silent, suppressed tears of before, but a loud, wailing cry, like a child abandoned by the whole world, crying with heart-wrenching pain, with one's whole body trembling.

He cried so loudly and unrestrainedly that even the dog in the distance was startled by his cries and stopped barking.

The frogs have stopped croaking.

The whole world fell silent, leaving only his sobs echoing through the dilapidated streets of Soto City, before disappearing into the boundless darkness.

He cried for a long time, until his voice was hoarse, until his tears dried, until the last bit of strength was drained from his body.

Then he leaned against the table leg, lying among the broken porcelain shards and manuscripts, and fell into a deep sleep before dawn.

This time, there were no dreams.

After waking up, he made a bold decision.

He was going to the Spirit Hall to ask Bibi Dong.