The instant Gu Yuena rose on her tiptoes, Lu Jingming understood her intent.

A gentle, knowing smile flashed in his eyes. Without the slightest hesitation, he stretched out his arm, firmly encircled her slender waist that scarcely filled a hand, drew her tighter into his embrace, and took the initiative to answer that kiss—one steeped in trust, reliance, and the first budding of love.

Moonlight spilled like liquid silver, tenderly swathing the two who held each other, tracing a hazy, sacred halo around them.

Even the night breeze seemed to soften its steps, wary of disturbing this beautiful tableau frozen in time.

Their figures intertwined upon the terrace, becoming the most moving scenery in the tranquil night.

Yet this poetic scene did not escape eyes hidden in the dark.

In the shadow of a nearby corridor pillar, Firefly stood alone, no one knew when she had arrived.

Her heterochromatic eyes—blue and pink—stared unblinking at the pair embracing in the moonlight.

She said nothing. Her hands clenched into fists, knuckles whitening with force.

Her face, so often marked by resilience and fiery emotion, wore no obvious expression now, yet the faintly pressed lips and that intent gaze—almost stubborn in its focus—betrayed that her heart was far from calm.

Higher still, on the upturned corner of the eaves, Castorice sat quietly, cradling her beloved book, like a ghostly orchid blooming silently beneath the moon.

Moonlight sketched her gentle, serene profile, bathing her in a cool radiance.

She kept her usual soft, slightly misty smile. But upon closer look, that smile seemed paler than usual; deep in her eyes flickered a subtle, elusive complexity, which was then quietly pressed down by her strong self-control, sinking back into tender silence.

Moonbeams still fell with gentle grace; the night breeze still stroked the treetops with a soft rustle.

Yet beneath this seemingly peaceful, harmonious night, the delicate ripples called emotion had already spread outward with that kiss beneath the moon.

The moonlit warmth, fine as silk, did not dissipate as their steps carried them away. Instead, it warmed between their interlaced fingers, like wine aged in a cellar—fragrant and intoxicating.

Lu Jingming held fast to Gu Yuena’s cool, supple hand, leading her through the silent, deserted corridor toward the bedchamber that belonged to him alone.

The heat in his palm was steady and burning, voicing some tacit anticipation—especially clear in the stillness of night.

Gu Yuena followed quietly at his side. Under the corridor’s dim lamps, her silver hair flowed with a dreamlike sheen.

Her gaze dipped slightly; her thick lashes like butterfly wings cleverly veiled the shyness swirling in her violet eyes.

With her intelligence, how could she not sense the ever-hotter gaze of the man beside her, and the unsaid depth in the pull of his hand?

Her heart was like a small pool struck by a pebble; ripples fanned out layer by layer—tinged with faint panic, yet more with a peace as of dust finally settling.

She had no intention of pulling away. Instead, her fingers tightened, returning his grip—wordlessly conveying her consent.

It was both an answer to the vow on the terrace that had shaken her heart, and proof that she was laying down her heavy guard, choosing to follow her true feelings into this unfamiliar yet alluring realm of emotion.

For the moment, the weighty thoughts of race, duty, and future were set aside; she only wished to immerse herself in this pure quickening.

However, when Lu Jingming pushed open the carved wooden door, the scene within poured over them like a perfectly timed basin of cold water, freezing the tender mood that had been ripening.

Inside, Firefly sat straight-backed on a pearwood armchair, her posture rigidly upright. Under the lamplight, her blue-and-pink eyes shone even brighter, filled with a serious determination bordering on obstinacy.

By the soft couch near the window, Castorice poured tea with graceful poise. Her motions flowed like clouds and water; misty fragrance quietly filled the air.

At the sound of the door, she lifted her gaze, wearing the same gentle, all-embracing smile as ever.

“…?”

Lu Jingming blinked, then understood; a helpless yet amused curve tugged at his lips.

He knew these two girls’ thoughts all too well.

Gu Yuena also paused, the lingering blush on her cheeks fading a little, her usual cool self-possession returning. She waited with poise to see what would happen, even a faint, theatrical glint sweeping through her violet eyes.

Firefly was the first to rise, movements crisp and decisive; with a few steps she stood before Lu Jingming.

She tilted up her small, resolute face; her gaze was clear and unwavering, her tone direct and brooking no refusal: “Xiao Ming, I’m already far behind.”

Her voice carried urgency and unwillingness to yield.

“I want to join as well.”

Her resolve was fervent and forthright.

Castorice set down the white jade teapot, walked over with light, graceful steps, her voice soft as spring water, yet just as unshakably firm.

“Xiao Ming, this time—”

She paused slightly, meeting his eyes.

“I won’t retreat again.”

The words were light, yet bore the weight of a thousand pounds.

Looking at the two girls before him—their ties to him deep, and at this moment clearly allied—then feeling Gu Yuena’s increasingly calm, even faintly teasing gaze beside him, Lu Jingming couldn’t help the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. Exasperated and amused, a headache stirred.

He raised a hand to rub his brow, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes as he deliberately drew out his tone and smirked: “Oh? This is what you asked for yourselves—’together’? Keep your word. No backing out later.”

The effect was immediate.

Firefly and Castorice’s pretty faces flushed scarlet at once, like the brightest rouge.

They instinctively glanced at each other. The courage that the moonlit scene had stirred up in them popped like a punctured balloon under Lu Jingming’s blunt, suggestive retort, leaving only mortified shyness and fluster.

It took courage to face him alone—let alone the three of them together… Their move just now had indeed been more impulse than anything.

Gu Yuena’s ears burned even hotter. She couldn’t help but reach out her slender fingers, pinch the soft flesh at his waist with precise accuracy, and give a gentle twist. She lifted her eyes and glared at him, shy and reproachful, wordlessly chiding his loose tongue.

“All right, all right—just kidding.”

Sensing it was time to stop, Lu Jingming quickly yielded. The teasing faded from his face, replaced by warmth and gravity.

“Tonight, we’ll all meditate and cultivate together. Firefly, Castorice—you both need to focus on comprehension as well. Strive to condense your second soul cores soon and break through the bottleneck to Title Douluo. The road is long—strength is the foundation.”

He knew his limits.

However close they might be, he would not trifle so absurdly with the first time of three young women.

For a woman, the first time is always special and worth cherishing. Even without forced romance, it ought to be treated solemnly, one-on-one.

Starting off with such an intense scene would be far too aggressive for them—and not what he desired.

What had just happened with Gu Yuena arose from genuine feeling, water flowing where it willed; he naturally went with it.

Firefly and Castorice’s appearance had interrupted the process, but he wasn’t truly angry.

How could he not know their hearts?

Besides, the four of them sharing a room tonight—even if only to cultivate—was, in a sense, a step forward in their relationships. As for his distant dream of all sleeping under the same quilt… perhaps this counted as a subtle, tiny step toward it?

The thought brought a flicker of amusement to his eyes.

…

Star Luo Empire, Imperial Audience Hall.

Within the towering hall, the high dome loomed; carved beams and painted rafters were steeped in the pressure of an approaching storm.

The assembly gathered was once-in-many-millennia, encompassing nearly all core powers capable of resisting the Spirit Empire on the Douluo Continent.

The air felt congealed; each breath carried weight. Representatives sat in separate ranks, their gazes interlacing with scrutiny, wariness, and the complicated emotions of those forced to join hands under the shadow of a mighty foe.

On one side sat the Star Luo Emperor Dai Yutian, imperial aura vast.

Beside him were Dai Weisi, Zhu Zhuyun, as well as the increasingly steady Dai Mubai and the ethereally cold Zhu Zhuqing.

Near them were the remnant forces of the Heaven Dou Empire led by Prince Xue Xing and Prince Xue Beng. Though dispossessed of their lands, the flame of restoration still burned in their brows.

Ning Fengzhi, Sect Master of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, sat at ease; beneath his gentle exterior lay unfathomable wisdom. Sword Douluo Chen Xin and Bone Douluo Gu Rong stood like two guardian mountains at his side, power restrained but palpable.

Poison Douluo Dugu Bo lounged lazily, or so it seemed; beneath half-lidded eyes, his gaze cut through the hall like a viper’s, warning all to keep their distance.

Yu Yuanzhen, Thunder Douluo and master of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon clan, looked pale from unhealed wounds, yet his spine remained ramrod straight.

Tang Xiao, Howling Sky Douluo and Sect Master of the Clear Sky Sect, sat in stern silence, a mountain’s weight in his aura, embodying the prestige of the number-one sect under heaven.

Shrek Academy’s core, led by Grandmaster Yu Xiaogang, Liu Erlong, and Flender, were also present.

Behind them, Tang San, Xiao Wu, Ning Rongrong, Oscar, Ma Hongjun, and the other leading youths sat upright, youthful immaturity shed, solemnity remaining.

Opposite this grand alliance sat a smaller group who could not be ignored.

Xuan Zi, Ma Xiaotao, Han Ruoruo, Xu Sanshi… these mysterious figures had thwarted the Spirit Empire’s schemes. They sat quietly, yet a naturally emanating pressure made hearts thud.

Xuan Zi’s eyes, seemingly clouded, would flash with sharp light when they opened; the soul power of a level-98 peak Douluo surged like deep currents beneath a placid sea.

A blazing aura flowed faintly around Ma Xiaotao—noble and domineering like the phoenix, pure and powerful—stirring in Ma Hongjun a blood-deep quiver and kinship through their shared fiendish phoenix line.

Yet what most unsettled the peak experts present were the two absent existences—Jeanne and Aglaea.

All knew: if not for those two mysterious powerhouses releasing an aura at a critical moment strong enough to make the newly ascended Angel God Qian Renxue hesitate and hold back, there was no way the Heaven Dou core could have slipped the Spirit Empire’s net and transferred safely to Star Luo.

Those two were the true trump cards who could balance divine threats—the invisible foundation letting this alliance sit and negotiate here.

As host and sovereign, Emperor Dai Yutian understood the alliance’s fragility.

He drew a deep breath; his steady, resonant voice shattered the suffocating silence and rang through the vast hall:

“Honored sect masters, seniors, allies.”

His gaze, sharp as a torch, swept each face, finally resting on Xuan Zi. His tone was grave and candid.

“Today we set aside past grievances and gather in Star Luo’s hall because we all face an unprecedented cataclysm—the Spirit Empire and the two who serve beneath it and have already ascended the divine thrones.”

He paused, letting the oppressive weight of those two deities settle on every heart, then continued:

“Bibi Dong and Qian Renxue—either alone has the strength to overturn the continent’s balance. Two gods upon the throne, momentum like a tidal wave—any single force among us, before divine might, is but a mantis blocking a chariot. The situation is clear: united, there is a chance at life; divided, we perish. This concerns our survival—and the continent’s future.”

His words laid bare the necessity of alliance.

He then shifted the point, eyes sharpening to the crux:

“Alliance demands sincerity; its root is trust. Before we discuss plans to resist the foe, some matters must be clarified.”

He locked his gaze on Xuan Zi, his tone solemn.

“Senior Xuan Zi, and the… friends you have brought—your identities, your purpose, and those two seniors who have yet to show themselves… all of this concerns whether the pact we are about to forge can hold, and whether we dare entrust our backs to one another. For the trust required to fight side by side, we ask… for candor.”

At once, every gaze in the hall—curious, appraising, grateful, or still steeped in doubt—focused on the unremarkable, even slightly slovenly old man.

Xuan Zi—one of the most unfathomably powerful present—and in many minds matched only by Sword Douluo Chen Xin.

Though he and his people had rescued Thunderclap Douluo, exposed Qian Renxue’s stunning disguise, and escorted Heaven Dou’s core to safety, their origin—too mysterious, too strong—was a blade hidden in fog. Even as they relied on that strength, many could not help but feel wary and hesitant.

That unknown was the first and most critical hurdle before this fragile alliance.

Without knowing Xuan Zi’s origins and goal, they could not fully trust him.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep