The Zhu Family spared no effort in catering to their esteemed guest. From the moment Song Qing stepped into the mansion, he was treated with a level of reverence that even surpassed their usual deference to members of the Imperial Family. Duke Zhu himself led the way, his posture radiating respect, his every word carefully chosen.
"Your Holiness the Holy Son," Duke Zhu said, his voice a respectful baritone, "it is our greatest honor to welcome you to our humble home. Please, allow us to offer you some refreshments." He gestured towards a lavishly set table laden with exotic fruits, delicate pastries, and fragrant teas.
Song Qing nodded politely, accepting a seat at the head of the table. Ghost Douluo and Chrysanthemum Douluo stood silently behind him, their presence a subtle reminder of the immense power the Spirit Hall commanded. Duke Zhu, with a respectful inclination of his head, offered them seats as well.
"Please, esteemed Titled Douluo, do join us," Duke Zhu offered cordially.
Ghost Douluo's raspy voice replied, "Thank you for your kind offer, Your Grace, but we shall remain standing. Our duty is to ensure the Holy Son's safety and comfort. Please, focus on His Holiness." Chrysanthemum Douluo merely offered a polite, if somewhat aloof, smile in agreement.
Duke Zhu, though slightly surprised by their refusal, didn't press the matter. He understood that Titled Douluo often had their own ways and customs. He then signaled to his wives, who had been waiting discreetly in the background.
Two elegant women stepped forward, their movements graceful and refined. One was Duke Zhu's main wife, a woman in her late thirties with a regal bearing and a warm smile. The other was a favored concubine, slightly younger, her beauty captivating with a hint of playful charm. Both women approached Song Qing with an air of respectful servitude.
"Your Holiness," the main wife said softly, her voice melodious, "please allow us to serve you." She delicately poured a cup of steaming, fragrant tea, its aroma filling the air.
The concubine offered him a plate of intricately designed pastries. "We hope these meet your esteemed palate, Your Holiness."
Song Qing accepted the tea and a pastry with a polite "Thank you." As he did so, his gaze flickered over the two women. 'They're both quite… well-built,' he thought, his eyes lingering for a moment on the main wife's ample bosom and the concubine's curvaceous hips and slender waist. It wasn't a lustful gaze, more like the innocent fascination of a child observing something new and interesting. He quickly averted his eyes, taking a sip of the tea.
Even Zhu Zhuqing's mother, Zhu Mengshan, a woman with a gentle and somewhat weary expression, was among those attending to Song Qing, her movements quiet and efficient as she offered him a selection of rare fruits. There was no hint of shame or reluctance in their service; it was simply the highest form of hospitality they could offer to such a distinguished guest.
This elaborate display of respect continued for a while, with Duke Zhu engaging Song Qing in polite conversation, carefully steering clear of any sensitive topics. Song Qing answered his questions with a maturity beyond his years, occasionally offering insightful observations that further impressed the Duke.
However, Song Qing hadn't come all this way just for polite conversation and refreshments. After a suitable amount of time had passed, he set down his teacup and looked directly at Duke Zhu, his dark eyes holding a hint of earnestness.
"Duke Zhu," Song Qing said, his voice clear and direct, "I would like to request a meeting with your second daughter, Zhu Zhuqing. If possible, I would prefer to speak with her alone."
A flicker of surprise crossed Duke Zhu's stern features. 'My second daughter? Zhu Zhuqing?' he thought, his brow furrowing slightly. He wondered what possible connection his seemingly unremarkable second daughter could have with the Holy Son of the Spirit Hall. He wasn't aware of any prior interaction between them.
'Perhaps… perhaps it's just a whim,' he mused. 'The Holy Son is still just a child, after all. Maybe he simply wishes to speak with someone closer to his own age.' This thought made the request seem less perplexing. Zhu Zhuqing was a quiet child, focused on her training, but she was polite and well-mannered. There was likely no harm in granting the Holy Son's request.
"Of course, Your Holiness," Duke Zhu replied, his tone respectful. "I will have someone escort you to Zhu Zhuqing's private chamber immediately." He signaled to a nearby servant, who bowed and gestured for Song Qing to follow.
Song Qing rose from his seat, and the servant led him through the opulent corridors of the Zhu Family Mansion. They eventually arrived at a more secluded wing of the mansion, stopping before a set of intricately carved wooden doors.
Before the servant could announce his arrival, Song Qing turned to the two imposing figures of Ghost Douluo and Chrysanthemum Douluo, who had followed him at a respectful distance. "Elders," Song Qing said, his voice firm, "please wait for me outside. And I must insist that you do not use your spiritual senses to try and listen to our conversation. I would be very annoyed and displeased if I were to discover that you had been spying on me." His tone left no room for argument.
Ghost Douluo and Chrysanthemum Douluo exchanged a silent glance. While they were primarily tasked with ensuring the Holy Son's safety, they also understood the importance of respecting his privacy, especially given his unique status.
"As you command, Holy Son," Ghost Douluo replied, his voice a low rasp. Chrysanthemum Douluo simply nodded in agreement, his usual flamboyant demeanor slightly subdued by Song Qing's unexpected firmness.
With a final, pointed look at the two Titled Douluo, Song Qing turned to the servant. "You may announce my arrival." The servant quickly nodded and gently pushed open the doors to Zhu Zhuqing's private chamber. Song Qing stepped inside, eager to finally see his friend again.
~~
As the door to her room creaked open, Zhu Zhuqing, who had been sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her melancholic thoughts, flinched. Her first instinct was that it was her elder sister, Zhu Zhuyun, come to deliver another round of taunts and reminders of her impending doom. She braced herself, a familiar knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach.
But the figure that stepped into her room was not her sister. It was a boy, slightly taller than she remembered, with striking dark blue hair and piercing dark eyes that seemed to hold a depth of understanding far beyond his years. He had lost the last vestiges of his childhood chubbiness, his features now sharper, more defined, making him look even more handsome and charming than she recalled from their brief encounter two years ago.
Zhu Zhuqing's breath hitched in her throat. She couldn't help but stare, her mind momentarily blank with surprise. It took her a few moments to even register the servant standing awkwardly by the door, murmuring a respectful introduction.
"Second Miss, this is His Holiness the Holy Son of the Spirit Hall, Song Qing," the servant announced, bowing low.
Meanwhile, Song Qing's gaze had also locked onto the young girl seated on the bed. Her long, beautiful black hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing a delicate face with striking brown eyes that held a hint of sadness. He noticed that even at the tender age of eight, her body was developing with a graceful elegance, hinting at the stunning beauty she would one day possess. 'She's grown quite a bit,' he thought, a soft smile touching his lips.
The servant, seeing that both children were simply staring at each other, cleared his throat softly before backing out of the room and closing the door behind him, leaving Song Qing and Zhu Zhuqing alone in the quiet chamber.
Song Qing took a few steps further into the room, his smile widening slightly as he approached her bed. He stopped a few feet away, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of concern and a hint of playful reproach.
"Zhuqing," he said softly, using her given name with a familiarity that surprised even himself, "why didn't you contact me? I gave you that jade slip for a reason, you know." His tone was gentle, but there was an underlying note of mild anger in his voice. "If some people at the Spirit Hall hadn't happened to stumble upon news of your… circumstances, I wouldn't even know you were in trouble. And this entire visit," he emphasized, gesturing around the room, "is solely to see you and help you out."
Zhu Zhuqing's eyes widened in utter shock as she heard his words. 'He… he came all this way just to see me? Just to help me?' Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. She had never imagined that the Holy Son of the Spirit Hall, a figure of such immense importance, would travel to the Star Luo Empire just to meet with her. A wave of warmth and gratitude washed over her, so intense it almost brought tears to her eyes again.
In the last two years, kindness within the Zhu Family had been a rare commodity. Everyone, it seemed, had thrown their support behind her elder sister, Zhu Zhuyun, the favored heir. Only her mother, Zhu Mengshan, a concubine with limited influence, had shown her any genuine affection, but even her mother's ability to help was severely restricted.
'He… he remembers me,' Zhu Zhuqing thought, her mind still reeling. 'And he actually came to help… me?' The contrast between the cold indifference of her own family and the unexpected kindness of this boy, who was now a figure of immense power and prestige, was stark and overwhelming.
A wave of self-doubt then washed over her. 'But… why?' she wondered, her brow furrowing. 'I'm just a Soul Master with a mere Level 13 soul power. What could I possibly offer someone like him? He's already a Soul Ancestor, his soul power at Level 44… it's like comparing the sky to the earth.' The thought of her own insignificance made her feel even more unworthy of his attention.
She recalled the day he had given her the jade slip. He had been so kind, so confident, so… extraordinary. Even then, she had sensed that he was no ordinary boy. Learning that he was the Holy Son of the Spirit Hall had only confirmed her initial impression. He was a genius, a prodigy, destined for greatness. And she… she was just Zhu Zhuqing, the forgotten second daughter of a Duke, struggling to survive in a cruel and unforgiving environment.
'I… I didn't dare to use it,' she thought, her voice barely a whisper as she finally found the courage to speak. "I… I didn't think I had the right to bother you, Holy Son. You're so… important." She lowered her gaze, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. "I just… I kept the jade slip as a reminder of our meeting… of your kindness that day in the forest." She still cherished the memory of their training session, his patient guidance, and the genuine encouragement he had offered. It was one of the few bright spots in the darkness of the past two years. She had often taken out the jade slip, just to look at it and remember that brief moment of connection with someone who had seen potential in her.