The following day dawned bright and clear over Martial Soul City. The intense emotions and physical exertions of the previous night seemed a world away as Song Qing navigated the familiar, grand corridors of the Spirit Hall. He felt refreshed, centered, the successful management of his relationships – both the volatile, utilitarian connection with Ah Yin and the complex, affectionate bonds with the four younger women – leaving him with a sense of quiet accomplishment.
He was heading towards one of the main reception halls, having been informed that his anticipated visitor had arrived.
Liu Erlong.
He considered her impending arrival with cool detachment. Her letter had confirmed his suspicions about Yu Xiaogang's declining influence and the predictable incompetence of the Shrek contingent. Now, she sought him out, ostensibly for thanks, but likely driven by a deeper confusion and a need for validation.
'Good,' Song Qing thought. 'Her disillusionment is the perfect foundation for Teacher to build upon. Let Bibi Dong deliver the final, crushing blows to Yu Xiaogang's memory in her heart. It serves my purpose perfectly – punishing that trash while solidifying Liu Erlong's potential future utility, or at least neutrality.' He felt no personal animosity towards Liu Erlong herself, only a cold satisfaction at the prospect of using her situation to inflict pain on his old enemy.
He reached the designated reception hall, a vast, echoing space adorned with Spirit Hall insignia and imposing statues. Several attendants stood near the entrance. And there, standing somewhat awkwardly near a large window overlooking the city, was Liu Erlong.
She looked… stressed. Her usual fiery demeanor seemed dampened by uncertainty. She wore travelling clothes, practical but well-made, yet she seemed out of place amidst the opulent austerity of the Spirit Hall. Her brow was furrowed slightly, and she kept glancing around, as if unsure of where to look or what to expect.
'Why am I truly here?' Liu Erlong wrestled inwardly, twisting her hands slightly. 'Just to say thank you? That could have been done by letter. No… seeing him again… after what he revealed… after seeing the absolute mess Yu Xiaogang has made of things… I needed to confirm it. Needed to see the person who saw the truth when I was blind.' She felt a wave of gratitude towards the young man, mixed with a confusing swirl of residual anger at Yu Xiaogang and shame at her own past devotion. 'How could I have loved such a pathetic man for so long?'
An attendant noticed Song Qing's arrival and bowed deeply. "Holy Son."
Liu Erlong turned sharply at the address, her gaze locking onto Song Qing as he entered the hall. He moved with an easy grace, his handsome features composed, his emerald eyes calm and observant. He radiated an aura of quiet confidence that seemed utterly at odds with his youth.
Seeing him again, here in the heart of the Spirit Hall, solidified the contrast in her mind. Yu Xiaogang, with his bluster and theories… and this young man, wielding real power, insight, and undeniable presence.
She stepped forward hesitantly as he approached. "Holy Son Song Qing," she began, her voice slightly uneven. "Thank you… thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice. I… I wanted to personally express my gratitude for… for your previous insights. They proved… distressingly accurate."
Song Qing offered a polite, almost imperceptible nod. "Madame Erlong," he greeted her coolly. "Your journey appears to have been swift. Your letter regarding recent events was received and noted."
He didn't invite further conversation, didn't ask about her trip or offer pleasantries. His gaze was distant, already focused elsewhere.
'No need for me to retread this ground,' he thought. 'Teacher's personal testimony will be far more effective. And seeing Liu Erlong now… she is indeed a striking woman, fierce even in her uncertainty. But irrelevant to my personal affections.'
"However," Song Qing continued smoothly, cutting off any further thanks she might have offered, "while I appreciate your coming here, there is someone else who truly ought to hear your experiences directly. Someone whose perspective on… certain matters… particularly concerning Yu Xiaogang… holds far greater weight and insight than my own."
Liu Erlong blinked, confused. "Someone else?"
"Indeed," Song Qing confirmed. "If you would follow me, Madame." He turned, gesturing slightly down a wide corridor, already moving, expecting her compliance.
Confused, apprehensive, but feeling she had little choice, Liu Erlong fell into step behind him. She followed his confident stride through echoing hallways, past bowing attendants and watchful Spirit Master guards. The sheer scale and power of the Spirit Hall pressed down on her, making her feel small, insignificant. Where was he taking her?
They arrived before a set of imposing, ornately carved doors. Song Qing paused, nodding to the guards who immediately opened them. He gestured for Liu Erlong to precede him.
She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then stepped through.
The room wasn't the vast throne room she might have expected, but a slightly smaller, though no less luxurious, audience chamber. Rich tapestries depicting legendary spirit beasts adorned the walls, and plush seating was arranged before a slightly raised platform where a single, intricately carved chair resided.
And seated upon that chair, radiating an aura of almost unbearable power and regal beauty, was Supreme Pontiff Bibi Dong.
Her rose pink hair cascaded around her shoulders, framing a face of breathtaking perfection. Her pink eyes, sharp and impossibly deep, immediately fixed upon Liu Erlong as she entered.
Liu Erlong froze, her breath catching in her throat. She had seen images, heard descriptions, but standing before the legendary Pope herself… it was overwhelming. She instinctively lowered her head, performing a respectful, if slightly clumsy, bow.
Song Qing stepped into the room behind her. "Teacher," he announced calmly, his voice echoing slightly in the chamber. "Madame Liu Erlong has arrived. She wished to share her perspective on recent events involving Yu Xiaogang. Given your own… history… I believed it would be valuable, perhaps even cathartic, for you to hear her account directly."
Bibi Dong's gaze shifted from Liu Erlong to Song Qing, softening infinitesimally, almost imperceptibly, before returning to Liu Erlong. She inclined her head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgement.
'So, this is Liu Erlong,' Bibi Dong thought, observing the other woman with cool detachment. 'The third point of that ridiculous 'Golden Iron Triangle'. Younger than I'd pictured from the old stories. Carries herself with a certain fire, yes, but it's dampened now. Uncertainty clings to her.' She felt… nothing. No echo of the old jealousy, no resentment towards the woman Yu Xiaogang had nearly married. Her heart, her focus, belonged entirely elsewhere now.
'My Qing'er wants her thoroughly disillusioned with that trash,' Bibi Dong reminded herself, the task feeling almost trivially easy. 'A simple service. I wonder what reward I should request? Another night like the last? Perhaps I should initiate this time… show him Teacher can be bold too…' Her thoughts strayed pleasurably, momentarily forgetting Liu Erlong's presence entirely before snapping back to the present task.
"Madame Erlong," Bibi Dong's voice was smooth, regal, carrying easily across the room. It held a slight coolness, but was not unkind. "Welcome to the Spirit Hall. My disciple informed me of your recent correspondence and your desire to speak." She gestured gracefully towards a comfortable chair positioned opposite her platform. "Please, be seated. Tell me what weighs on your mind."
Feeling slightly like she was dreaming, Liu Erlong moved stiffly to the indicated chair and sat down, perching on the edge. She felt Bibi Dong's powerful gaze on her, analyzing, assessing. Song Qing remained standing near the entrance, a silent, observant presence.
Taking a shaky breath, Liu Erlong began to speak. She recounted the arrival of Flender and Yu Xiaogang at her Blue Tyrant Academy, the audacious proposal to merge the failing Shrek Academy into her own institution.
"They spoke of talent, of potential," Liu Erlong said, her voice gaining a measure of indignant heat as she recalled the encounter. "But what I've heard since… what I've learned about those students… Their behavior at Heaven Dou Imperial Academy was disgraceful! Reports of… inappropriate conduct towards female students! And their actual performance? Unimpressive, relying on tricks rather than solid foundations!"
She shook her head, bitterness tinging her words. "And Yu Xiaogang expected me to simply absorb this… this liability? To tarnish my academy's reputation with his failures?"
She looked directly at Bibi Dong, then glanced briefly at Song Qing. "I refused him. Unequivocally. His arrogance… his assumptions… And it all connected back to what the Holy Son had warned me about. His theories… his character…" Her voice trailed off, the disappointment raw.
Bibi Dong listened patiently, her expression impassive. Only a slight tightening around her eyes betrayed any reaction when Liu Erlong spoke of Yu Xiaogang's arrogance. 'Pathetic,' she thought. 'Always overestimating himself, always failing.'
When Liu Erlong fell silent, Bibi Dong leaned forward slightly, her pink eyes seeming to pierce through Liu Erlong's defenses.
"His theories, Madame Erlong," Bibi Dong began, her voice calm, cold, utterly devoid of emotion, "were never truly his."
Liu Erlong looked startled. Hearing it confirmed so baldly by the Pope herself was jarring.
"Much of what he published, what formed the basis of his supposed 'genius'," Bibi Dong continued, her tone laced with faint, icy disdain, "was derived, often poorly synthesized, from restricted research conducted within the Spirit Hall archives decades ago. Research I personally contributed to significantly in my youth, before… circumstances changed."
She didn't elaborate on the circumstances. "He lacked the intellectual honesty to credit his sources. He presented stolen knowledge as his own innovation, often misunderstanding the deeper principles involved."
She paused, letting the weight of the accusation settle. "As for his character…" A flicker of something cold and hard entered Bibi Dong's eyes. "Arrogance built upon a foundation of deep-seated insecurity. An inability to accept his own limitations – limitations imposed by his own mediocre spirit. He craved recognition he hadn't earned, blamed others for his failures… particularly those who surpassed him."
She spoke of their past briefly, clinically. "He sought me out, yes. Charmed me, as he likely charmed you. But when faced with real pressure, with challenges to his ego, his lineage… he proved incapable of loyalty. Incapable of true strength. He fled responsibility. He chose pride over connection." Her voice remained steady, but the air around her seemed to chill perceptibly. "He is, fundamentally, a coward."
Liu Erlong listened, utterly still. Hearing the story from Bibi Dong herself, delivered with such cold, factual contempt, was devastating. It stripped away the last lingering romantic notions, the final excuses she might have made for Yu Xiaogang. He wasn't a tragic figure; he was simply… inadequate. Pathetic. The image crumbled into dust.
She sat in silence for a long moment, processing the finality of it. She looked at Bibi Dong, truly looked at her – the power, the beauty, the absolute control. And the complete, utter indifference towards the man who had once held both their hearts.
'She's truly free of him,' Liu Erlong realized with a jolt. 'It's not an act. She despises him, yes, but more as an irrelevance, a piece of trash swept aside long ago. How… how did she reach this point?' The question burned within her.
Gathering her courage, she spoke again, her voice soft, hesitant. "Your Holiness… forgive my boldness, but… you seem so… completely detached from him now. As if he holds no power over your memory at all. How did you achieve such… such closure? After everything he put you through?"
A sudden, startling transformation occurred. The icy composure on Bibi Dong's face melted away instantly, replaced by a soft, luminous smile. It was genuine, warm, almost girlish, lighting up her features with breathtaking beauty. Her gaze immediately shifted, leaving Liu Erlong and fixing unerringly on Song Qing, who still stood observing near the door. The fondness, the deep affection shining in her eyes, was unmistakable, radiant.
"It becomes easier, Madame Erlong," Bibi Dong said, her voice losing all its coldness, becoming soft and warm, filled with a gentle happiness Liu Erlong hadn't expected. Her eyes remained locked on Song Qing. "It becomes much easier when you find someone else."
She paused, her smile deepening. "Someone truly worthy of your heart. Someone you begin to love… far, far more."
Liu Erlong instinctively followed Bibi Dong's loving gaze towards the young man standing by the door. She saw the Pope's incredibly fond smile directed solely at her disciple.
'Ah…' Liu Erlong's mind leaped to the obvious, yet incorrect, conclusion. 'She means her disciple. Of course. The bond between a master and a truly exceptional disciple can be profound. Her affection for him must be immense. Understandable, really.'
Her own gaze lingered on Song Qing. Standing there, bathed in the light from a high window, he looked impossibly handsome, his emerald eyes holding depths that seemed far beyond his years. Powerful, intelligent, insightful, and the focus of the Supreme Pontiff's deep affection… A strange warmth spread through Liu Erlong's own chest, an unexpected flutter. 'He truly is… remarkable,' she thought, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. 'No wonder she was able to move on, having someone like him to mentor, to care for…' She completely missed the romantic, possessive nature of Bibi Dong's love.
Bibi Dong, however, did not miss the direction, or the nature, of Liu Erlong's lingering gaze upon Song Qing. She saw the faint blush, the flicker of nascent fascination in the other woman's eyes. An idea sparked, coolly strategic yet subtly possessive.
'Interesting,' Bibi Dong mused. 'Captivated already. Predictable, perhaps. Good. Let her stay close. Let her witness Qing'er's brilliance daily. Let her see his… devotion and appreciate his talent along with his skills.'
Turning back to Liu Erlong, Bibi Dong's expression became one of warm, almost sisterly solidarity. "Madame Erlong," she said kindly, perhaps even reaching out to briefly touch Liu Erlong's hand across the space between them. "Hearing your story… it resonates deeply. We find ourselves in a similar, unfortunate position – women grievously misled and ultimately abandoned by the same fundamentally inadequate man."
She leaned forward slightly, her tone inviting. "Why rush back to the Blue Tyrant Academy immediately? Stay here, at the Spirit Hall, for a few days. Remain as my personal guest. We have much we could discuss. Perhaps we can find some… mutual strength, some clarity, in sharing our experiences further."
Liu Erlong looked utterly taken aback by the unexpected, generous offer. Stay? As the Pope's guest? Here?
"Your Holiness… I…" She was momentarily speechless. "That is… incredibly kind. An honor I don't deserve…"
"Nonsense," Bibi Dong waved a dismissive, elegant hand. "Consider it done. You will be given comfortable quarters."
"Then… then yes!" Liu Erlong accepted, a surge of gratitude – and something else, a fluttering excitement she didn't quite examine – rising within her. "Yes, Your Holiness, I accept readily! Thank you! Thank you so much!"
'Stay here… talk more with the Pope, yes… gain insight…' Liu Erlong reasoned, justifying her immediate acceptance. But deep down, another thought flickered, unacknowledged but potent. 'And… perhaps… I might see more of Holy Son Song Qing…' The chance to be near him, to observe him further, felt like an unexpected, incredibly welcome bonus. She didn't question why that felt so important.