That one blow finally shattered Dai Tianfeng's last trace of imperial dignity.
With a heavy thud, the Emperor of Star Luo dropped to his knees like a sack of potatoes.
But Qian Daoliu clearly wasn't done.
He strode forward, grabbed Dai Tianfeng's collar with one hand—lifting half his body into the air—and with the other hand, swung the twisted, L-shaped scepter in relentless arcs.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The dull, rhythmic thuds echoed like a drum performance at the entrance of Feng Ran Pavilion.
As he hammered away, the High Priest muttered through clenched teeth, his voice hoarse with a mix of fury, grievance, and pent-up emotional devastation.
"Teach you to act arrogant!"
Bang!
"Teach you to tell me to scram!"
Bang!
"Teach you to break my pontiff's scepter!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Finally, after a long string of head-tapping violence, Dai Tianfeng managed to thrust out a trembling hand.
"W–Wait!"
Qian Daoliu paused mid-swing.
He lowered his gaze.
Dai Tianfeng's once-majestic imperial face was now… indescribable.
Bruises layered on bruises.
Seven or eight pointy lumps sprouted across his forehead like a colony of angry mushrooms.
His eyes were watering; his lips trembled.
He looked like a tragic caricature of an Emperor in a street play.
"High Priest… I've been wronged…" Dai Tianfeng sobbed, voice cracking. "I just arrived… when did I ever break your scepter?!"
The moment the words left his mouth—
Qian Daoliu's eyes widened in fresh outrage.
"You still dare argue?!"
"It's your fault! If I say it's you, then it's YOU!"
BANG!!!
A blow heavier than all the previous ones smashed into Dai Tianfeng's forehead.
His eyes rolled back; he nearly fainted.
That was when the Star Luo entourage—who had been petrified in shock this entire time—finally snapped out of it.
Zhu Chenfei, Dai Weisi, and the rest rushed forward in a scrambled panic to "rescue" their Emperor.
Not because they were loyal.
No.
If Dai Tianfeng died here, they would be the ones taking the fall—and who would kneel to the Divinity to apologize then?
"High Priest, calm down! Please calm down!"
Zhu Chenfei was first to dive in, his face full of anxious devotion—an Oscar-worthy performance that made him look like Dai Tianfeng's long-lost twin.
He grabbed Qian Daoliu's arm tightly.
"This is a misunderstanding! A complete misunderstanding!"
Dai Weisi threw himself forward as well, hugging Qian Daoliu's thigh like his life depended on it.
"Your Holiness, spare him! My Imperial Father would never dare disrespect you!"
One after another, Star Luo's civil and military officials piled in.
Some begging, some crying, some trying to mediate, some near fainting themselves.
Inside the restaurant, the farce had already drawn everyone's attention.
Devil Bear Douluo stared blankly.
"My god… when the High Priest snaps, he really doesn't hold back!"
Saint Dragon Douluo nodded. "That L-shaped stick almost has afterimages…"
Chrysanthemum Douluo clutched his silk handkerchief tightly.
So THIS is how you distort the truth.
Impressive… truly impressive.
Even Lin Feng couldn't help the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Good heavens.
That old man Qian Daoliu… really hit with gusto.
The sound honestly resembled someone playing Whac-A-Mole with spiritual power amplification.
Dai Tianfeng, the Emperor of Star Luo, was being reduced to comic relief.
However…
Lin Feng's gaze shifted—not to the beaten emperor—but to someone in the crowd.
Someone who had quietly taken half a step back the moment the scepter snapped.
Bibi Dong.
She stiffened instantly at his look.
Her cheeks flushed, eyes darting away, throat clearing in guilt.
In her heart, she cursed Yu Xiaogang ten thousand times over.
If it weren't for venting her rage from smashing that piece of trash earlier… how would she have accidentally shattered the pontiff's scepter?
Lin Feng let out a silent chuckle.
He had no intention of pursuing it.
But…
The noise outside was becoming ridiculous.
Crying, wailing, pleading, scolding, head-smacking—
all blending together like a flock of ducks having a nervous breakdown.
Lin Feng finally spoke.
"That's enough."
His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through all the chaos outside like a blade.
"Qian Daoliu, just hit him to vent. Don't actually kill him."
"He's a future leek… after all."
The second half remained in his heart.
Yet even the first half carried undeniable weight.
The rampaging Qian Daoliu froze instantly.
Senior had spoken.
The madness vanished from his face like it had been erased.
In its place bloomed a warm, polite, almost grandfatherly smile.
His facial transformation speed was so absurd that Zhu Chenfei, still clutching his arm, began doubting reality itself.
"Oh my!"
Qian Daoliu suddenly exclaimed, as if only now noticing the half-conscious Dai Tianfeng covered in bumps.
He hurriedly withdrew the L-shaped scepter into his spirit tool with a shoop.
"Isn't this His Majesty Dai Tianfeng of the Star Luo Empire?"
His voice became hearty, warm, filled with the joy of reuniting with an old friend.
"Coming to Spirit City as a guest—why didn't you inform us in advance?"
"This old man would have welcomed you properly!"
The entire Star Luo delegation froze.
Zhu Chenfei's hand stiffened mid-air.
Dai Weisi froze on Qian Daoliu's thigh.
The civil and military officials stood slack-jawed.
Not a single brain among them could process what they were seeing.
Was this… really Qian Daoliu?
The High Priest of Spirit Hall?
A level 99 super Douluo?
This face-changing, lie-spinning, shameless performance…
How did it differ so much from the dignified, sacred, awe-inspiring figure recorded in their history books?!
While they questioned their very existence—
Qian Daoliu released Dai Tianfeng's collar.
"Your Majesty Dai, look at you—just coming is already enough. No need for such a grand gesture! You're far too polite!"
He loosened his grip.
But Dai Tianfeng was already dizzy from the hammering.
His mind fogged, his body limp.
The moment Qian Daoliu let go, he began collapsing face-first toward the ground.
"Hey! Careful!"
Qian Daoliu reacted swiftly, grabbing him again before he kissed the floor.
After stabilizing him, Qian Daoliu turned around sharply.
The smile vanished instantly.
His face hardened into the stern fury of an elder reprimanding incompetent juniors.
His glare swept the Star Luo entourage like lightning.
"What are you all standing there for?!"
"Didn't you see your Emperor accidentally fall and injure himself—unable to move?!"
"Are you blind? Or dead?!"
"You just watch and don't help him up?!"
BOOM!
His scolding crashed into their minds like a thunderbolt.
Every Star Luo minister turned into a stunned chicken.
Their eyeballs nearly exploded from their sockets.
Damn!
Damn it all!!
This…
This Qian Daoliu…
was unbelievably shameless.
You were CLEARLY the one beating our Emperor into this sorry state with that bizarre broken stick!!
Why did it suddenly become "he fell on his own"?!
And now you're blaming US for not helping him?!
How can there be such a brazen, truth-twisting, heaven-defying shameless person in the world?!
The prime minister's goatee trembled so hard it nearly launched into the sky.
He pointed at Qian Daoliu, lips quivering—
But not a single word came out.
Because he didn't dare.
They had understood.
This wasn't a dignified legend.
This was a super-powered hooligan!
Try reasoning with him?
You'd be inviting that stick to knock on your skull next.
Everyone swallowed their anger, forcing down the blood rising in their throats.
Their expressions were bitterer than eating ten catties of raw Coptis root.
Seeing their obedient silence, Qian Daoliu nodded approvingly.
He tossed the half-conscious Dai Tianfeng into Zhu Chenfei's arms like he was tossing out a heavy bag of rice.
"Hold him steady!"
"If your Emperor falls again, this old man will hold YOU responsible!"
Zhu Chenfei: "…"
Go. To. Hell.
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