Douluo Continent: Martial Soul Young Gilas, Sandstorm King!

Chapter 165 Remember my words.

Zhu Zhan took a step forward, and the shadow cast by his tall figure instantly enveloped Lin Xia and Zhu Zhuqing. The soul power fluctuations belonging to top experts squeezed the air like a tangible tide, making Lin Xia feel a slight choking.

"Where is the dignity of the Star Luo royal family? Where are the rules of my Zhu family?"

Zhu Zhan's gaze finally settled on Zhu Zhuqing's face, and the coldness and disappointment in his eyes were more damaging than any scolding.

"The destiny of the Netherworld Cat is not to be trifled with!"

Lin Xia kept her eyes lowered, her attitude respectful but not humble.

"Uncle Zhu is right. This trip was a long journey, and I failed to report it in time, which was a big mistake. Please punish me, Uncle Zhu."

He skillfully avoided the core conflict of "fate" and shifted the focus to procedural oversights.

Zhu Zhan's gaze lingered for a moment on the glaring bloodstain at the corner of Zhu Zhuqing's mouth and on her empty, no longer evasive eyes that were fixed on the ground.

Gone was the timidity and deathly silence of the past; replaced by an almost numb calm, and... a trace of cold stubbornness that made him vaguely uncomfortable.

This is not the reaction a six-year-old girl should have after being severely reprimanded.

He frowned almost imperceptibly, a strange feeling passing through his mind, but it was quickly overwhelmed by even greater anger.

This feeling of being unable to control things made him even more irritable.

"Humph!"

Zhu Zhan let out a heavy, cold snort, the sound like muffled thunder rolling through the hall, making people tremble.

Zhu Zhan's sharp, knife-like gaze swept over Lin Xia and Zhu Zhuqing again, finally settling on Zhu Zhuqing, and his voice suddenly deepened.

"You're under house arrest for a month! You're not allowed to step out of the West Garden without my permission! Reflect on your 'fate'!"

Having said that, he suddenly flicked his sleeve, the wide sleeves of his robe stirring up a gust of wind that whipped up the dust on the ground. He turned and strode away, his heavy boots clattering on the polished obsidian floor with a dull, oppressive sound, each step striking the heart.

Only when Zhu Zhan's figure completely disappeared at the end of the deep corridor leading to the inner residence did the terrifying pressure that had enveloped the entire front hall and was almost suffocating slowly dissipate like the receding tide.

Only then did the few pale-faced servants dare to secretly catch their breath and cautiously retreat.

The huge hall was now empty except for Lin Xia and Zhu Zhuqing, and a deathly silence.

Zhu Zhuqing stood straight in place, her small body taut, like a fully drawn bow.

The blood at the corner of his mouth had congealed, turning into a thin, dark red line.

Lin Xia turned around and looked down at her.

Her long eyelashes trembled violently a few times, like butterfly wings about to break in the wind, before finally lifting with difficulty to look at Lin Xia.

Those eyes, deep within their clear black pupils, had been replaced by something stronger and more intense—a mixture of humiliation, pain, anger, and a desperate, almost obsessive desire to become stronger, ignited by Lin Xia's words!

The flames burned fiercely in her eyes, almost bursting forth.

"Brother Lin Xia..."

Her voice was terribly hoarse, with a slight tremor of relief, yet it was exceptionally clear.

"I... went back to Xiyuan."

Zhu Zhuqing did not cry or complain; she simply used all her strength to maintain her precarious and fragile strength.

Lin Xia reached out, and this time, instead of ruffling her hair, she gently wiped away the glaring dark red bloodstain at the corner of her mouth with her fingertips, a touch of soothing warmth. "Go."

Lin Xia's voice was deep and gentle, carrying a reassuring power.

"Mark my words."

Zhu Zhuqing nodded vigorously, her gesture conveying a sense of resolute determination, as if she had already decided to burn her bridges.

She gave Lin Xia one last look, the flame in her eyes seeming to say: I will do it.

Then, she turned around, straightened her slender yet exceptionally stubborn spine, and walked steadily, alone, step by step, toward the West Garden, which symbolized punishment and loneliness.

The small figure appeared so tiny in the empty, cold hall, yet it exuded a heart-stirring, unbreakable resilience.

Lin Xia watched her disappear into the shadows of the corridor, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes, which was then replaced by a deep and focused gaze.

Without hesitation, he turned around and walked swiftly and silently toward the depths of the mansion, toward his secluded corner—the small courtyard he had transformed into a temporary workshop.

time is limited.

With a soft creak, the heavy wooden door was pushed open, and a unique smell mixed with metallic dust, mineral fragments, and a faint grease wafted out.

This is the most inconspicuous corner of the Zhu residence, where Lin Xia has cleared out several storerooms that were originally used to store miscellaneous items.

At this moment, the largest of them has been completely renovated.

A rough wooden workbench occupied the center of the room, with all sorts of oddly shaped tools scattered on it.

The steel carving knives of varying sizes gleamed with a cold, hard light.

The small yet heavy anvil is as steady as a mountain.

Several files for fine polishing are neatly arranged.

There are also ores of various materials and hardness!
In the secluded courtyard deep within the Zhu mansion, the heavy wooden door creaked shut out the last trace of noise and prying eyes from the outside world.

Lin Xia slammed the heavy bolt down, the click seeming to lock away the heavy anxiety in her heart.

The air was filled with the earthy smell of metallic dust, mineral fragments, and a faint, almost imperceptible grease – the unique scent of his temporary workshop, but now carrying a suffocating feeling of impending storm.

He strode toward the large workbench made of heavy logs in the center of the room.

The tabletop had already been cleared to a spotless clean, and several soul guide lamps, each inlaid with attribute-free lighting crystals, had been adjusted to their optimal angles, casting soft and bright light down and focusing on the "protagonist" who was about to appear.

Taking a deep breath, Lin Xia carefully took out the object bearing immense pressure and responsibility—the Starry Crown—from her storage soul tool.

When the ancient and majestic crown, crafted entirely from deep meteorite iron, was placed steadily on a tray covered with thick velvet, the entire room seemed to light up for a moment.

At the very center of the crown was a gemstone about the size of a pigeon's egg.

It is not the dazzling and eye-catching color that is commonly perceived, but rather presents a deep and restrained dark blue background, as if it has captured a condensed portion of the cosmic night sky.

The interior of the gemstone is not static, but contains countless tiny specks of light, as fine as dust yet as brilliant as stars, flowing and rotating slowly in a mysterious and indescribable trajectory, like a miniature nebula vortex.

An indescribable, pure, vast, and spatially distorted energy fluctuation, like the breath of a sleeping dragon, subtly pulsated with the flow of starlight.

This energy was so pure and ancient that just by getting close, Lin Xia's soul power seemed to be drawn to it, spontaneously accelerating its operation and becoming more condensed.

This is the power of the stars' origin, a symbol of the Star Luo Empire's royal lineage!
(End of this chapter)